I walked into a salon one Sunday morning. It was time for the girls’ quarterly haircut. The six year old tried hard to convince me not to chop off her unruly locks and the younger one had an indifferent look on her face, as if to say, “Get it over with it, shall we?”. After explaining to the lovely hairdresser the length, look and style (as dictated by the elder one) and carefully whispering what I actually wanted, I settled down on

Meet Chitra Arvind, Artistic Director of Rhythmotion in Bangalore. She is a choreographer, teacher, and performing artist, professing and practicing Bharatanatyam, Kathak and Contemporary dance for more than two decades. She also trains hearing impaired students in dance to help develop their overall personality. Chitra continued to dance post motherhood and with her story is keen to encourage mothers who have given up their passion post child birth. Read more about Chitra in her own words.   I started learning

Talk about life and all that it comprises of, the phases and their bitter sweet nuggets! The most essential is the sixth one, when things begin to conclude; The choices one makes set up the stage for the very next thing to take place! Here are six stories to spell this out.   1.0 THE TWILIT SKY She resembled the twilit sky; right before the eyes, yet miles away! Spread endlessly, she too lived in a multifaceted disguise that none could

I started learning Bharatanatyam when I was five years old in Kalamandalam, Kolkata. My mother had learnt Bharatanatyam in her younger days and so by natural extension she enrolled me in it too. I loved it from the get go. I continued to learn in Chennai after my father’s transfer there. When I reached standard 10 at school, the dance classes stopped. Not because I needed to focus on my academics, but because the teacher who used to come to our

April is Autism Awareness Month. Prior to my son’s diagnosis, I never knew this month even existed. That’s how it typically goes I guess. People don’t pay attention until it’s their life. I get it. That was me pre-Autism. Now, my whole world is an Autism Awareness Month. I have a nineteen-year old with semi verbal Autism, and I invite you to take a peek inside our secret world. Autism can be scary, isolating, beautiful, humorous and sad. I, along

Most of my childhood memories are related to dance. Rehearsing, travelling, the whole process of dressing up, responses from the audiences, the actual performance, the goof ups. Dance was an integral part of my life. Going to dance class directly from school was routine. I started learning Bharatanatyam around the age of five, my parents tell me that I danced around quite a bit at home and they figured that this was something I would enjoy. Because of the nature of my

Last year, around late April, I found myself sitting in front of the City Hall building, in New York City. On my right was the Brooklyn bridge, and on my left, the big Wall Street Bull. I was waiting for a friend to pick me up, and in the interim, I had a few minutes to myself. Sitting on that park bench that sat opposite the heritage building’s façade, I remember thinking to myself, “My dance has brought me here”.

Since no one ever asks a man how it feels to be a man on a certain day, it is with certain indulgence that we have to approach this question. Not all women have similar human rights or control money, if they did, their futures and that of the country will be different. To acknowledge that all is not well is the first step, to understand we have to do something every single day at homes and in work places

I was born in the Steel city of India, Jamshedpur. Having always excelled in studies, I was keen on becoming a doctor but my parents were strict and conservative and did not want me to pursue that career. I was good looking and ambitious, was known to be a rebel who did not want to marry or give dowry. I was however, married off while doing MBA after which I moved to Bangalore and continued studying as hard as I could. With over 13 years

You could call it a mere coincidence but I got my first period on Women’s Day. That’s right. I was only 10. Because of which, my mother was completely unprepared for the drama that unfolded by her clueless daughter who was convinced her kidneys had failed. After a lot of mayhem, my mother sat me down along with my grandmother, and gave me a brief explanation about Menstruation. I was relieved that it meant my kidneys were still functioning normally;