Thursday, September 18, 2008


This is my first post. I have loved dance in all in forms since I can remember. I can hardly recall a time when the sound of rain plattring on the windows in the Mumbai monsoon, the sound of tabla playing on the radio, the loudspeaker during ganapati, the songs in the rickshaw and the sound of the drummers fingers on the dhoombek have NOT made me want to forget everything else and DANCE. Yes, dance is my passion, it is my first love. To me dance expresses all things beautiful and alive. The very first time I remember being a proud dancer was at family function, where I sang and and most importantly danced to the EVER-GREEN and always fun HAWA-HAWAI song of Sridevifrom Mr. India. I remember being called miss. Hawa Hawai for a long time after that. I learnt Bharat-natyam from Age 7 to at a dance school close to my home. Although the experience was not deep enough for me to continue with Barath-naytam, it did however open up the world of DANCE to me. I was taught mudras and gestures. I was taught how to be angry, happy, shy, in love, be sad; all just using your body; no need to even say a word. It was simply wonderful.
While studies took precedence, dance was over-looked. Still there were always school parties, college rose-days, birthdays where there was always an opportunity to dance. I really recongised my passion for dance when I came to do my masters to the NCSU. I met a bunch of people there as passionate about dance as I am. We formed a troupe and I had loads of fun rehearsing and performing with them.
When life brought me to Memphis, I met Jasmine, and I am happy to say that my life CHANGED!!! I discovered BELLY DANCE. I finally found a dance teacher. A teacher who is caring, knowledgable, fun and most importantly one who really respects DANCE. I have been performing with her for the last 1 year.
Being from India, I love all things dance; and dance is such a part of my culture and life. I love Hindi movie songs, folk dances and often perform at local indian cultural events.
So this is an attempt to keep a track of my Thumkas and my Shimmies, of sore-ness in my arms holding a skirt and pain in my fingers playing the cymbals; of costumes I wore for lavani and bhangra and my choreography blues from thinking about koli and hindi movie song steps.


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