Odissi
Before theory class in the evenings, we would sit and wait on the rooftop. Those whose feet could risk scalding, would practice their dance steps barefoot on the weathered concrete. I would hover in a slither of shade, holding the top half of my sari over my head as an awning, just as I saw the women in the main street do. When those bright blue doors of our dance school opened, we would scramble in.
Our school consisted of one large room, split by a single step. Enclaved in a wall was our altar on which sat Lord Jagganath, the deity of our dance. A thatched roof let in air but kept monkeys out. And yet with not much there, there was everything. Twenty women from virtually every continent had found their way to these painted wooden doors in a temple compound in Pushkar.
Six months earlier I had been told, 'I see you doing a very sensual form of dance, with long lines of strong women. You must do it, for the pure reason that you can. You’ll be using your hands' and she had placed her fingers in the heavy metal sign of the horns. It was only when I was ensconced in the white-washed walls of the school, that recognition fired a shot of goosebumps through my arms. Learning the single-handed mudra of the deer - my thumb and pinkie up, four middle fingers bowing down - I remembered her words.
As a writer, Odissi was the perfect dance form for me to sink my heels into, as each movement is laden with symbolism. The first posture I learned is the stance of Lord Jagganath. Considered ‘masculine’ it is erect and square, requiring strength to maintain. Knees are bent in plié, feet two fist lengths apart. When resolve to continue dancing in this pose would wane, I would glance at Lord Jagganath on the altar maintaining his.
In contrast is the ‘feminine’ tribhanghi, which shapes the body into a curvaceous ’s’. It is shown with a bend at the knee, waist and neck. The head is cocked as if playing a flute, which Lord Krishna portrayed by this pose, often does. Swaying our ribs, a motion mimicking the waves of the Orissian sea, you could see why our saris were such suitable attire, exposing a rare portion of skin. Gently rocking with these women in our lines of learning - I remembered her words again.