This Is One Way to Dance

Subarna lives in America now, but her heart still beats to the rhythm of her Indian roots. She has come a long way from the small town in Karnataka where she spent her childhood. But she still remembers the sultry summer days spent with her cousins, the smell of the mango groves, the feel of the cool grass under her bare feet.

As Subarna grew older, she began to understand that her heritage was not just something to remember fondly. It was a part of her, an identity that she carried with her wherever she went. She learned to dance the bharatanatyam, a classical Indian dance form that had been passed down through generations of women in her family. And as she danced, she felt a sense of belonging, a connection to something deeper and more profound than she had ever known.

Years later, Subarna found herself living in a small apartment in New York City. She had come to America to pursue her dreams of becoming a writer, and although she had found some success, she still felt a sense of dislocation, of not quite fitting in. She missed the warm embrace of her family, the smell of home-cooked food, the sound of the sitar that her grandfather used to play.

One day, Subarna received an invitation to attend a bharatanatyam recital at a local community center. She went, almost on a whim, not expecting much. But as soon as the music started and the dancers took the stage, she felt something stir within her. It was a feeling of familiarity, of recognition, of coming home.

After the recital, Subarna approached the lead dancer and introduced herself. She learned that the woman was a renowned bharatanatyam teacher, and she asked if she could take lessons. The woman smiled and said, "Of course, my dear. We are always looking for new students."

And so, Subarna began to study bharatanatyam once again. She practiced in her tiny apartment, her feet tapping out the intricate rhythms on the hardwood floor. She read books about the history and meaning of the dance, about the lives of the women who had carried it forward through centuries of tradition.

But as she delved deeper into the world of bharatanatyam, Subarna began to question some of its traditions. She wondered why only women were allowed to perform the dance, and why it was so closely tied to notions of purity and virtue. She began to explore other forms of dance, to incorporate elements of modern movement and improvisation into her performances.

And then, one day, Subarna was invited to perform at a multicultural festival in her neighborhood. She decided to choreograph her own piece, a fusion of bharatanatyam and contemporary dance. She spent weeks crafting the movements, choosing the music, perfecting the costume.

When the day of the performance arrived, Subarna was nervous but excited. As she danced, she felt a sense of freedom that she had never known before. She felt like she was breaking down barriers, defying expectations, creating something new and beautiful.

And when she finished, the crowd erupted in applause. People came up to her afterwards, thanking her for sharing her culture, for showing them something different and inspiring. Subarna felt a sense of joy that she had never known before. She realized that she had found a way to dance that was uniquely her own, a way to honor her heritage while also exploring new horizons.

From that day forward, Subarna continued to dance. She performed at festivals, at community events, and even at her own book launch party. She used dance as a way to connect with others, to share her stories, to create a sense of belonging.

And as she looked back on her journey, Subarna realized that