A Time To Dance Part 40

EPILOGUE.

TEMPLE.

of the

DANCING G.o.d: REVISITED.

Some places that sprawl in childhood memories shrivel in size when revisited.

But the temple of the dancing G.o.d feels just as large when I visit again, honored with an invitation to perform there at a dance festival; not any smaller than when I, as a child touching sculpted feet, first craved the gift of dance He gave our world.

Before my performance begins on the outdoor stage, I pour a handful of white jasmine blossoms at the dancing feet of the bronze s.h.i.+va.

From a lofty corner a celestial dancer smiles at me.

Beneath another curtained sanctum where an empty s.p.a.ce represents G.o.d as formless, I bow; and bow to the crystal symbolizing G.o.d as the fragmented light within us that strengthens through each compa.s.sionate act as our souls progress from one life to the next.

Akka's cymbals strike a crisp, clear note, calling me to the open-air stage where Ma, Pa, Chandra, and Govinda wait with the rest of the audience.

I close my outward-seeing eyes and meditate on the spot between my brows covered by the dot of sacred vermillion.

Noises of night harmonize with the drumbeats.

Music fills and lifts me.

My body feels small as a speck of silvered dust swirling upward in a cone of moonlight.

I dance dance dance.

Beyond movement for one long moment: shared stillness.

Then applause pierces the night like the chirping of sparrows at dawn.

Closing my eyes to the blinding glare of the spotlight, I salute the infinite presence within everyone in the crowd, then slip away until the clapping sounds as distant as an echo from a past life.

Alone in the soft darkness of the temple courtyard, I trace the curves of all ten perfect toes with my fingertips.

And touch the sacred earth beneath both my beautiful feet.

AUTHOR'S NOTE.

One of my earliest memories is of Smt. Shoba Sharma as a girl, dancing at my brother's wedding ceremony. She became a performer and dance teacher despite suffering serious physical injury. This work of fiction is inspired by her life and the lives of other dancers who overcame physical trauma, such as Smt. Sonal Mansingh, Smt. Sudha Chandran, Sri. Nityananda, and Clayton Bates (the disabled African-American tap dancer whose photograph Veda sees on Jim's wall). Smt. Kamala Lakshmi Narayanan, a child prodigy who grew into a famous performer, and Smt. Ambika Buch, an amazing teacher and exponent of the Kalakshetra school, introduced cla.s.sical dance to me at an early age. My understanding of the spiritual aspect of Bharatanatyam came later, just as Veda's does in the novel. The Sanskrit verses I translated and interpreted here are taken from original texts.

Between the ages of seven and fourteen, I was privileged to have daily lessons in Carnatic music (to which Bharatanatyam dance is set) from Smt. Savitri Rajan, disciple of Veenai Dhanammal. Like akka in the novel, she never accepted payment for her lessons. This book, I hope, serves as a guru daks.h.i.+na to her and to Sri. T. Krishnamacharya, who introduced me to yoga and Vedic chanting, and thus to the universality of spiritual truth that underlies our religious diversity.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS.

First and foremost, thanks to my brilliant, committed, and enthusiastic editor, Nancy Paulsen, who was immensely patient as this novel evolved. Nancy's ability and dedication to helping me create a story out of the flimsy chaos of early drafts is unparalleled. I am particularly glad Nancy encouraged me to experiment with this novel's form and thus to grow as a writer.

Rob Weisbach is more than an agent; he is my rock. He is critical, intelligent, humorous, generous, kind, sharp, witty, wise, and always wonderful.

Stephen Roxburgh, my most trusted "outside" reader, blessed and honored me with his steadfast belief in Veda's story. His profound insights, comments, and unswerving faith were the guiding light of her journey-from Eros, through Charis, to Agape. Thanks also to Carolyn Coman for her unstinting warmth and encouragement from the very beginning, when I started climbing the stairs as a writer.

Several poets broadened my understanding and helped in different ways: Richard Blanco, Peter Covino, Rigoberto Gonzalez, Peter Johnson, Scott Hightower.

Sincerest grat.i.tude to the many gracious artists who took time to share with me: Sri V. P. Dhananjayan, Ahalya Bhaskar, Smt. Angelika Sriram, Smt. Bragha Bessel, Jaya Teacher, Kavya Suresh, Smt. Lakshmi Ramaswamy, Smt. Maya Shekar, Mala Ramadorai, Smt. Nithya Vaidyanarayanan, Smt. Renuka Subramaniam, Smt. Shoba Sharma, Smt. Sumitra Gautama,

Smt. Sas.h.i.+kala Ananthanarayanan, Sri J. Suryanarayana Murthy, Smt. Sudha Chandran, Dr. Sudha Gopalakrishnan, Smt. Sumangali Neroor, Smt. Saraswathi Vasudevan, Uma Venkatraman.

Heartfelt thanks to the generous medical personnel and differently abled persons who spoke to me and especially to those who read a draft and supported me: Mr. Robert C. James, CPO, Mr. Joshua James, CPO, and Ms. Becky Blaine of South County Limb and Brace in Wakefield, Rhode Island; Smt. Ambika Kameshwar, director of the Rasa-Arpita Center for Theater Arts and Special Needs and the Academy for Research and Performance of Indian Theater Arts; Dr. S. Sunder, Founder and Managing Trustee, Foundation for the Rehabilitation, Education and Empowerment of the Disabled of Madras; Ms. Meena Dhadha and the staff and patients at Mukti Charitable Center, M.S. Dhadha Foundation; Mr. Michael Nunnery of Nunnery Orthotics, North Kingstown, Rhode Island; Staff of Prosthetic Artworks, LLC, Pennsylvania; Dr. Marakatham Venkatraman, Dr. Ashok Venkatraman, Dr. Venkatesh Balasubramaniam, Dr. Jeff Bachmann, Dr. Kevin Dennehy, Dr. S. Devarajan, Dr. Juergen Dolderer, Dr. Sue Ferranti, Dr. T. V. Jayaraman, Dr. S. Jay Jayshankar, Dr. Sandeep Murali, Dr. Elwira Pyz, Dr. Raman Srinivasan, Dr. Lynn Ho; John Bezak, Jeannine Atkins, Judy Begalau, Betty Cotter, Lakshmi Chayapathi, Jim Cipelewski, Kathleen Gremel, Jyoti Ganesh, Mary Heikes, Anne Herman, Maria Iacuele, Kris King, Kevin Klitze, Treacy Lewander, Sarah Ornstein, Sarah Lamstein, Emily Pet.i.t, Vicki Palmquist, Linda Pavonetti, Susanna Reich, McCall Robertson, Laurie Rothenberg, Kay Schenk, Maura Stokes, Carole G. Vogel, Maiite van Hentenryck, Sara Kreger, Jacqueline Woodson.

Finally, much more than mere thanks to my spouse, Rainer Lohmann, and our daughter, Karuna, for the love that nurtures and sustains me.

Also by Padma Venkatraman.

Island's End.

Climbing the Stairs.