A nightlamp

I lived in a hostel room for 7 years during my Ph.D. It was a small room and everything was a step away. Then I moved to a one-bedroom apartment in the US, nearly 4 years ago. I bought large number of things on my first weekend in the US when my friend got a car and offered to drive me around and buy stuff from Ikea, Walmart, Target. A lot of my cutlery and furniture were bought in one day when I was mostly jetlagged; and I was all set to live in my first apartment in America. In my first apartment, I had a big lamp next to my bed with a foot-switch and it worked satisfactorily for 2 years. The I moved to a sharing two-bedroom apartment.
My lamps got distributed in the bigger square foot area and then I took out this rarely-used smaller Ikea lamp which is suppose to be a nightlamp. But it always had a very sharp light in it (which I never changed) and a very inflexible wire that I could not fix around my bedside table. I had to fix it awkwardly on the floor on the other side. So for nearly two years, it was rarely used, which would mean darkness, or when used, a blinding uncomfortable light and position. It would always nag me, but then nothing was done about it. Until(!), my husband gifted me a beautiful Light Art from Sweden. I decided to put it on the bedside table, next to my bhagwanji, on the table mat, my mother-in-law made for me. I thought this would give light to my prayer section and also stay protected as its all glass. With its flexible wire, one night I switched it on in darkness and Viola!! The perfect nightlamp ever. It was just what I needed. But until I got it I didnt realize it.
This has made me wonder everytime I look at it. Little details that actually make it your personal space. About little details that we are too busy to check.  Details that become important when there is a change. How change makes you learn about yourself, if you listen. Helps you to get in touch with yourself. How its important to assist people during change. Importance of support systems. And then about Surprises! And the little joys of life!

Dance - a rediscovery and beyond

In present times, art forms such as dance and painting, among others are regarded as sources for creation of something aesthetically beautiful by a large body of audience. In fact, many find no "real" reason for practice of these activities. My existence without dance as a means of expression seems unthinkable, nevertheless I too have also found myself ask, "Why dance?" in the same essence as "Why paint?". To express, to create, yes, but why this instinct at all? This question has been a roadblock in defining my path to discover my relationship with dance.
Many many years ago, there existed no language. The only way to communicate was to enact or draw. Then our civilization found many a legible alphabet. The means of expression developed from spoken, to written, to typed words. Body language became a secondary means of communication.
However, dance survived in the human society by evolving into more ornate forms, traveling through temples and courts, theaters and streets, ballrooms and brothels. And now many, driven by this deep-seated existential urge, propagate this form of communication through the present times, and evolve it into more modern styles. While many others practice it as a specialized pass time, keeping it pleasantly visible to those who may not indulge.
Through this entire journey, dance, in its basic essence, still remains a means to project the worlds around us through a human body. It is this timeless quality I aspire to explore in my journey through dance.
This realization provokes a long-forgotten memory, surprisingly a mythological one; a story that I never quite understood as a child. I refer to the story from Mahabharata, where Yashoda asks Lord Krishna if he ate mud, which Lord Krishna denies. When Yashoda asks him to open his mouth and peeks inside, Lord Krishna projects an entire universe through his mouth and leaves her wonderstruck.
Ancient recorded history shows that dance has earliest noted presence in religious ceremonies and rituals. Like dance itself, my personal journey with dance begins here in a religious backdrop. I now wait to evolve….

Inspired by an essay by Doris Humphrey in "The Dance has many Faces", by Walter Sorell.

The new generation Scrapbook!

Very recently, I was reminded of the days when we were asked to collect leaf samples and paste them in a Scrapbook with black pages and butter paper in between. Just the thought was refreshing.
In my life, I have traveled to some places which are worth remembering. I have met people, eaten food, experienced cultures and done some "things". Its not much, but its still something worthwhile for me. I suddenly felt like I need to record it. My most favorite memories from a place or time; I need a scrapbook. And if needed I can look back on it or even share it with people.
Oh wait! Isn't that what one can do on Facebook. Is Facebook the new generation scrapbook? Ah well! But used very differently. For my purpose, I think I will still go back to my scrapbook.

An artist's burden!

This is an abstract thought:
What is my art? What does it stand for? What does it express?
Questions that many artists ask of themselves. I am a dancer. Or lets just say I love to dance. Why do I dance? So far I have danced because I love it. It calls to me and I go. And I do one more thing; When I go, I take as many with me as I can.
I have danced to enjoy, put up shows for people to enjoy the movements within the music. My contribution has been to those whom I have taken with me to experience, those who thought they could not. But I have believed that "everyone can dance". That is how I have lead my groups. There have been no auditions. Everyone is allowed to go and express their joy. And I do whatever I can to make it happen.
My art has been my own and for those who shared the stage with me. Those who witnessed were much welcome.
And now I stop again to ask, what is my art? What do I express? What are my responsibilities as an artist to my audience? What can I further contribute to?
I now realize an artist's burden. As a scientist, it is upon me to find cures for the body, as an artist it is upon me to find cures for the soul. (If there is such a thing as a cure, that is).
My creation would be carved out of my experiences, feelings and beliefs. That is where it would start. I would pass this ideology to my co-performers and we will have inputs where everyone's personality brings in new aspects. So now we have this structure and within this structure there are movements, gestures improvised by our lives and experience (as performers and otherwise). As an artist I am capable of doing this. I am aware - of my body, my emotions, my movements. Much of my audience is not.
The world is full of people who do not know what they feel, or then, cant balance on a single leg. My responsibility is to such people. They do not know my life. But as they come and watch my dance, movements and expressions, do they see themselves in me, the performer. Is what I express, what they feel?
Some of the greatest plays and shows in history have awaken people to what they could not see.
And this is why an art needs to evolve itself, or bring the change.
Yes, art can be that powerful....!!!

Why clean my house?

This last year I have been living with a housemate and have gotten used to having someone around. And then spent two months at home around people, and another month in my house in Washington DC with my husband. I got used to having people around me. While my husband was around me, he spoiled me a lot. He would cook for us, even clean the house whenever he could. He was helping me to catch up with work and not worry about the chores at home. And it was a huge help; I had a very comfortable one month.
And then both my housemate and my husband left. After three months of much hullaboo at my home and at our wedding, I was all alone. I should mention here that before moving to this house, I had lived all by myself for two years and it was perfectly fine. But now I suddenly felt lost and lonely. I just could not connect to anything around me. I would work and then come home, order in, eat and
sleep.
But today when it is almost time for my housemate to return home, I decided to stop being sloppy and clean the house of all the mess. This was something I had been putting off for quite sometime. I was lazy, it seemed boring and tiring. But to my surprise, when I cleaned my house today, I felt more in touch with all that was around me. I felt that I belong here and that this is my niche. Cleaning let me experience and explore every part of my house. It gave me time where my senses were not over-powered by technology or even my own thoughts. It was a simple connection of me and my surroundings. Of being in the moment. Being in the present. That's it.

You help me, I help you!

I helped someone at work today,

Showed him how things may not go his way,

It troubled him deeply but said

It was good he knew the truth,

I empathized with him, he thanked me,

said, 'Hey! You help me, I help you!'.

It shook me but saddened me more,

Reminded of what is strange with our world

I helped you, I was genuinely concerned,

Not looking for what I gain in return.

There is a scale for emotions,

There is rule book for kindness too.

Does it tell you to be thankful to many

Those you don't know and can't return?

If you give more and expect nothing,

You might just be able to settle your score.

Because if you don't,

Life might render you with an unforeseen debt,

Would you burden your soul as you left?

Pacific sunsets

A combination of three sunsets in Chile!