Dance performances are a dime a dozen. But how often, while watching a performance, does one experience a feeling of being transported to another level of consciousness, where one has for a few moments, lost a feeling of oneself? This was the state-of-being I experienced watching Malavika Sarukkai dance in the Angan of her home, before a small gathering of friends. To review such a performance would almost be an affront, for what was an act of worship and thanksgiving at the altar of the Dance muse, for having bestowed on the dancer's person, the benediction of mental and physical vigor to pursue with dedication, the dance for fifty two years - and for still being able to partake of its richness. I am more interested here in the process of what has transpired in the person of the dancer during these long years, with regard to her relationship with the dance.Read more in the site
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