Arangetram Part 4 - Where's the third page? Oops. I think I left it in the printer...

Finally, the dreaded dance of the evening: Thillana. Under normal circumstances, I could make it through Thillana without killing myself, but today was different. I was pooped! The lights were hot, my adrenaline was wearing out, and I was finally starting to feel the heaviness of the jewelry, hair, and bells. I signaled over to the musicians that I would need them to stall for a bit as I attempted to catch my breath and cool down by the fan. Venu Uncle and Durga Aunty had no problem in capturing the audience's attention with their elaborate flute and veena introduction until I was ready to enter.


I came on feeling okay, but the fatigue set in pretty quickly. I gritted my teeth (not literally...that would have looked odd) and pushed myself through until I had one more Jathi left, the hardest one. I thought I might faint on stage if I had to finish that one. Ack! Then, I realized that for the first time, I could actually skip the entire Jathi and as long as I did it confidently, nobody would know. And for the first time, Jothi Aunty would not be able to stop me! Bwahahahahaha. Well I tried to transition into the abhinaya as smoothly as possible, but being the moron I am, I forgot to take backward steps and finish the line of the song. So, like an idiot, I ended up repeating the first line of abhinaya twice (I didn't think to improvise) until Geetha Aunty finally caught on. To a dancer, the mess-up might have been apparent, but I was too close to the end to be worried.


And finally, after one more taxing bit of nritta, I practically bounded off stage, chest heaving, sweat dripping, head spinning, and grinning like crazy. I collapsed into the chair, ignoring the high fives from Nisha and Jyoti. One of them slapped me on the back instead. I rolled off the chair and was about to flatten myself on the ground. Whatever. I had never been so exhausted and so euphoric in my life.


And that's when I remembered (oh crap), I've still got another piece to do! Well, not a real piece, but the Mangalam: where I walk onto stage and thank the God, musicians, and audience. I dragged myself onto the stage one more time for Mangalam. This managed to happen without major issues even though the musicians did something funky at the end. My brain felt like it had detached itself from my body again. I went over to the deity, bowed, went to the musicians, bowed, finally stood before the audience and bowed.



I got the customary standing ovation, which made me sigh in relief (because I was half expecting everyone to have walked out by then). It was at this point that I thought it might look cool if I shed a few tears. I scrunched up my face as best as I could and tried to cry, but it just didn't happen. I guess I'm just not good at that sort of thing.


I gave up and started grinning again until the clapping stopped. I dipped my head one more time and exited the stage. Ah. It was over. Too bad I was in such a daze that I couldn't appreciate the moment. My mom ascended the stage to give her thank you speech and my brother accompanied me as I brought gifts to the musicians, touched their feet, and received their blessings. Durga Aunty had played Veena, Geetha Aunty had sung, Venu Uncle had played the flute, and Naranayaswamy (NS) Uncle had played the Mridangam.

My brother gave his own small speech and demolished the audience with his oh-so-creative borrowed jokes. Then, it was my turn.

You know, Indians really suck at RSVPing. I was expecting to speak before far fewer than 400 people. Usually when I am in front of a podium, my nerves are like live wires. But after dancing on stage for two and a half hours, my nerves were more like burnt wires. I actually took a Speech class this summer...my teacher would have taken off points for lack of eye contact, but I honestly was just planning to read off the paper. Except. It's difficult to read off the paper when IT'S NOT THERE. I realized that I was missing a page of my speech (did I leave it in the printer?). So I made it up on the spot. Surprisingly, I think I actually made more sense when I spoke straight from the heart (imagine that), so all was well.

Continued...in Part 5: The Aftermath

Arangetram Part 3 - "I thought I said no ice in the mango lassi!"

The audience got their own stretch break and exited the auditorium to partake in some samosas and mango lassi (my idea), meet with any friends who arrived late, and exchange comments about my dance. Of course, I wasn't aware of any of this, since I was having my own panic attack backstage after someone mentioned that part of my costume, the center piece that connects to one of my legs, had nearly come off. "It wasn't obvious, I swear," she tried to convince me. We had forgotten to tighten the hooks. I would remember that for my last costume.


Someone brought me lassi. I forgot to use a straw and poured it right into my mouth. I got a mouthful of ice cubes. I was so mad that I spit it back into the cup and refused to drink any more, even after someone took all the ice out. I'm generally not like that (okay, maybe sometimes...), but I was in such a crappy mood. However, I cooperated a little better during this second costume change and was able to chill for a few minutes before the end of intermission. My necklace was changed AGAIN despite my protests (which was accompanied by several minutes of frantic pinning (and stabbing)), and I was given another massive layer of makeup and Vaseline that would hopefully last me through four dances. Sanj, who forgot to take pictures during the interlude, remembered to take them again.

See that bottle? It contained glucose powder dissolved in water. It was pretty gross.

I was feeling much less tensed by now and my body had finally stretched out. I entered the stage to my favorite dance, Alarulu Kuriyaga, which I executed without issues.

The next dance was Hanuman Chalisa, the one which my mom had requested Jothi Aunty to choreograph especially for me. I had practiced this song to the voice of MS Subbulakshmi, but Geetha Aunty had her own unique style to singing it, which was just as gorgeous. I had a lot of fun onstage. I ended with the bhajan twirl as Sravanthi spotlighted and dimmed on me. She did it a little late, but that was perfectly fine because I was handling the dizziness pretty well. Usually, I teeter around for a bit, but I managed to stay firmly on the pink X until the lights were completely dim. I bowed, but before I walked off stage, I spun the other way to undizzy myself (and received a few chuckles from the audience).


JA introduced my last padam, Kalai Thooki. I remember to stretch my quads for this one...usually I don't and end up screwing the poses because I pull a muscle or something. The poses came out fine, as did most of the dance, except for one part where Geetha Aunty sang one line twice, realized her mistake, and switched into the next line of the song. I had to do some crappy improvisation that probably did not remotely fit the words. Luckily, I don't think anyone caught that. At the end of Kalai Thooki, I made the split second decision to actually end in a Nataraja pose. Luckily, it held up until the lights dimmed. Yay. I'm getting good at this impromptu thing.

Arangetram Part 2 - The light really was blinding.

A representation of my mental state during the first 15 minutes of my arangetram: OH MY GOD WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING UP HERE AAAHHHHHHHH MAKE IT STOPPPPP AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH.....


I advanced onstage to the first beats of my Pushpanjali, trying to migrate gracefully to the pink X that marked the center of the stage. The colored lights beat down on me from the upper corners of the stage, blinding me from the audience (My mom decided, against my protests, that we would have to use those because they would make the video come out better...very like her) As I danced, I felt like I was swimming into the darkness. My brain was somewhere else entirely while my limbs moved of their own accord, but I didn't try to think about it because they seemed to know what they were doing. By the time I had finished the abhinaya and was about to begin the second stretch of intense nritta, I was able to catch up with my breath and the rest of my body. I finished Natesha Kavuthuvam in that notoriously painful pose that, on regular days, would have caused my right thigh to explode in pain (it doesn't look painful, but oh boy, it is). Today, though, I couldn't feel it (thank you, adrenaline) and I sunk into the pose until the lights dimmed.


My calves were still unbearably stiff and I hobbled offstage in a frenzy. Thankfully, Alarippu starts out slow. I managed to finish it without a hitch, except for the slight sloppiness due to the unresponsiveness of my lower body which I will blame on my inadequate stretching beforehand. I exited, had a sip of Gatorade, and returned to the stage for Jathiswaram, perhaps the fastest dance of all. Everything in Jathiswaram went alright except for the 5th Jathi, which I blanked out on and had to improvise on the spot. I picked it up again at the 6th Jathi and finished the dance okay despite that jarring moment. I was, of course, angry that my legs were still tight with tension and my dance rather sloppy. But for the next ten minutes, there would be a musical interlude and I would have some time to rest.

Rest? Yeah right! As soon as I stepped off the stage, I was yanked into the dressing room where the girls immediately got to work removing safety pins, peeling off my sweaty costume, and drying me off. Someone dragged over a giant fan. Someone else stood before me with a bottle from which I sipped glucose water. I traded my mango necklace for one with white pearls. My eyeliner was desmudged and darkened, my lips reddened and coated with another layer of Vaseline, and my skin given another dusting of powder. Thankfully, my bells hadn't snapped like they had during rehearsals a few days before. I had an emergency stash of borrowed bells (which various friends had brought me that day without even me needing to ask them) in case this happened. I hurriedly stretched my calves and quads before I was rushed onto the sidestage again. JA briefly explained the Varnam and beckoned me to come and give a small illustration of her description. After that, it began. It started off a little shaky due to some confusion with the song, but I slid right into the dance and finally found my comfort zone on the stage.

I welcomed the stretches of abhinaya that came after every intense jathi; during them I could rest and forget about staying with the rhythm. About halfway through the Varnam, I wasn't feeling that nervous anymore. And by the end of the dance, though my chest was heaving and the sweat dripping off me like crazy, I finished with confidence.

Ah, finally intermission. 1/2 done, another 1/2 left to go.

Continued...in Part 3: "I thought I said no ice in the Mango Lassi!"

Arangetram Part 1 - The best bits: everything that happened before I even stepped on stage.

It's over. But well before it was over, well before I even stepped on stage, a lot of preparation went into creating my arangetram. Apart from the year of dance preparation, this (and the next five posts) describe what happened the day before and day of the event. It was probably the most fun I have ever had.

The arangetram took place on August 30th, 2008 at the Littleton High School Center for the Performing Arts. The day before, we had driven there and I had a small stage rehearsal with Jothi Aunty (my dance teacher), Venu Uncle, and NS Uncle (two of the musicians). We insisted that we do a sound check...just so there would be no surprises the next day. Being on stage during the rehearsal really spiked my tension levels, as it finally hit me how close the real thing was. After my rehearsal, we started on the decorations in the lobby and on the stage. I was politely asked to go home and relax, but there was no way I was leaving without poking my nose in all the preparations. Several family members and friends had come to help us and the place started to look fabulous. I pranced around nervously for a little while, swapping photographs of myself here and there, adjusting lamps, adding extra safety pins...just being my usually nitpicky self. After being yelled at by several people, I went home, ate a few plates of pasta, and jumped into bed. Thanks to the excessive panicking and jitteriness of that day, I was pretty tired and didn't take a long time to drift off.

When I awoke that Saturday, I immediately looked out the window. It was uniquely gorgeous: There were clouds, but the sun was streaming right through them and everything was kind of glowy and nice. It was kind of early, and I wished I could have slept longer, but I knew that I would never be able to go back to sleep. I ate Honey Nut Cheerios, showered, remembered to put on a button-down shirt and spandex, and applied red Sharpie to my feet with painstaking precision. Traditionally, dancers wear this stuff called Paarani to color their toes and fingers red, but its easier to use red marker. After a few weeks of coloring everybody else's feet for their performances, I had become an expert. I was really OCD about it. Later, my mom forced me to eat some yogurt rice, and we left to the auditorium at about 1 o'clock. I listened to my iPod during the ride, desperately trying to relax.

I was sitting in the dressing room at about 1:30, repeatedly burning myself with my hair straightener when Praneetha, Harita, and Sanjana showed up to the rescue. They almost finished straightening my hair...I just had the top layer left...when Jothi Aunty entered and cast aside the straightener (being my perfectionist self, I started freaking out, but my protests were ignored).


She started on my makeup. I had some newly purchased toner, foundation, mascara, and eyeliner but that lay forgotten on the side as she whipped out her case of 1960's dance makeup (which was probably better anyway). "Old is Gold," she said. "This stuff will make you look gorgeous on stage." And then Nisha said, "Well, we're going to need a LOTS of it." Nisha was standing too far away to be kicked, so I settled for a few degrading comments about her intelligence. JA applied this red stuff that initially made my face look like it was hemorrhaged (it was scary up front, but ended up looking good onstage).


Of course, Sanj had to take a picture of this. After evening out the red stuff, JA applied pan-cake foundation (it has to be mixed with water to be applied so it cakes onto your skin when it dries) that makes your complexion very light. I freaked out when I looked in the mirror and couldn't find my eyebrows or lips--they were the same color as the rest of my face. JA told me to calm down and proceeded to go over my eyebrows with pencil. She lined my eyes with kohl and we didn't need eyemakeup remover even once (unlike at my photoshoot)! Then, she started with my hair. Despite the layer of unstraightened hair at the top, she tamed it and weaved everything into a nice braid, along with the fake hair and ornaments. She's just got some awesome skills.


After JA left for her sound check, I kicked everyone out of the dressing room while Harita stayed to help me into my first costume. I was soo glad that I had practiced putting on my costumes so many times beforehand because they have so many parts and it's easy to put them on incorrectly. Then, we let everybody in again and they (Manasa, her mom, Jyoti, Nisha, Mamtha, her mom, Praneetha, Sanjana, Pranathi) proceeded to finish my makeup and adorn me with temple jewelry and flowers. JA sewed all the flowers, jewelry, and everything together nice and tight with her needle and thread (of course, I was terrified of being stabbed, but I forgot she was an expert) and everybody else stuck bobby pins at every empty space of hair they could find. My scalp was in so much pain when they were done, but it all numbed away soon.


I am so glad that I've been wearing Indian earrings, with the Bombay-style screw, for all of my life. Because of them, I have huge ear holes. They've always kind of grossed me out, but I was thankful today because the temple earrings fit in painlessly and bloodlessly.


So, we eventually managed to get me all dressed up, ready, and relatively presentable for the stage. Almost. Except for the nose ring. See, there's this tiny piece that fits right between both my nostrils and hangs down to my upper lip, like what bulls wear. It's rather annoying and during my photoshoot closeups, I ditched it entirely, but they didn't let me do that here. The only way it stays on is if you pinch it in REALLY hard until your eyes water. I believe it is humanly impossible for anyone to intentionally cause themselves that much pain. After several failed attempts, sneezes, and panicked screeches, Mamtha agreed to stick her fingers up my nose and pinched till my eyes watered...and it was finally in. After that spectacle, Praneetha/Sanjana/Nisha were able to color my fingertips with red Sharpie. I jumped around a little to make sure I could move with everything on.


The jewelry and hair was pretty heavy, but my adrenaline was ready to handle even forty extra pounds. I stretched out a little, admired myself in that long mirror, tried to do some warmups, and evaded people they tried to give me liquids. Here I am pulling on my padded ankle socks while everyone stands around, looking beautiful.


I was finally dragged onto the sidestage, where some girls were loitering around as my dad was finished up the introductory speech. Mamtha fed me a slice of mango pie so I wouldn't have to touch anything with my Sharpied hands.


And then, most of the girls left to grab their front seats but Jyoti and Nisha stood by, armed with Gatorade (and straws), Vaseline, a towel, and lipstick that would have to be periodically reapplied. Jothi Aunty went onto to give her speech on the introduction to Bharatanatyam and then called me on to bow to the statue of Nataraja and take my bells. After I touched her feet and went to the sidestage, the Prayer Song began and Jyoti and Nisha rushed to buckle my bells. The Prayer Song seemed to last FOREVER, and I almost got lost in Geetha Aunty's voice, but it actually did end. She started singing my familiar Pushpanjali and I positioned myself behind the curtain, waiting for NS Uncle's mridangam beats to signal my entrance. My mind seemed to go blank for a few seconds, but I managed to gather myself together and took my first steps into the blinding light.

Continued in Part 2: The light really was blinding