In the silence of the music and the stillness of the movement , the expansive space of objectivity unfolds while I dance. In this space, everything seems leisurely, there is no urgency in the unfolding of characters and no visible end to this state of awareness. But as the muktayam plays, the awareness and objectivity diminish to a barely recognisable, miniscule presence within me, and I quickly emerge again with my name, my titles and roles, fully intact.
As a dancer who loved movement, the stillness of the physical practice of yoga was not very pleasurable as a teenager. I was restless and thrived on the physical gains of yoga more than the mental quiet and single pointed attention that it demanded. I was ecstatic with the physical prowess that I developed in yoga class.
My balances became more controlled, my legs felt like they had gained an inch with all the stretching and I could contort myself into shapes that seemed a far reach just months earlier. I skipped pranayama class, yoga nidra classes, and any class that didn’t push me enough physically. I wanted only to be challenged physically.
Calming the mind is the key. Rukmini shows how.| Photo Credit:Courtesy: Raadha Kalpa I didn’t realise that years of dancing would bring me back to the same stillness of yoga, even if it was through movement.
In a fast-paced tillana, I need the inner leisure and space that yoga was begging to offer me earlier, in order to truly ‘dance’. Dance and yoga have been intertwined in I.
