My dear dancers,
I don't think I need to tell you that I was quite saddened about not being able to dance in the festival this past weekend (the last weekend of Oct 2009). It sort of became acute on the second day (Saturday), when it felt like everyone was dancing and it was only I who could not. So, after the matinee show on Saturday, I came home to cry. I did not want to sulk in front of everyone. But I am sure I did that too!
I also quietly admitted one truth to myself: that besides feeling bad for not dancing, I was jealous of you all. I just decided to face that fact, have a good cry, and get it over with. And that's what I did.
Something really beautiful and paradigm-shifting happened after that. While walking back to the theater, I found myself humming the lines of a song that I have not remembered in months. It is a song by Subramanya Bharathiyar, one of Tamil's most dearest poets. The lines of this particular song go like this:
காயிலே புளிப்பதென்னே கண்ணப்பெருமானே - நீ
கனியிலே இனிப்பதென்னே கண்ணப்பெருமானே ........
How do you taste so sour in this raw fruit, Oh, Kanna!
How do you taste so sweet in this ripe one, Oh Kanna!
நோயிலே படுப்பதென்னே கண்ணப்பெருமானே - நீ
நோன்பிலே உயிர்ப்பதென்னே கண்ணப்பெருமானே
You are what lies enervated in illness, Oh, Kanna!
You are what springs alive after a fast, Oh, Kanna!
Never before has the song made sense to me in the spectacular light in which I occurred to me at that moment. If I love my dancing, agile self, I must also love my healing, wounded body, for it is all "Kanna" finally! If I can offer my dancing body in prayer, I can offer by limping one too! :) That shift was tectonic in scale.
I wanted to share this experience with you.