'My grandfather would be winking at me', thought as I performed puja at the Brahma ghat on my third visit to Pushkar in 2020. As the priest recorded my name, purpose and date of visit in the voluminous manuscript, I envisioned my grandchildren coming here a full circle. Headed towards the market for the dessert to my soul... harem pants, bangles, boho scarfs and tunics, jholas and jumpsuits. I bought them all and more! December this one, unusually kind as the sunshine irked me to peel out the upper layer of raiment and carrying it amongst the retail therapy stuff, required I to rest.
Notes my auditory senses felt acquainted with and transported me to the shrine of Shri Jagannath, Puri... but hey, this is Pushkar! On one of my visits to Puri, as Prabhu summoned me around the noon and for my memory that I claim to be photographic, this was the music played by the priests, I climbed the stairs along.
I followed the melody of Manjira (Cymbals) and found myself at the door of a space that read Tejaswini Gautam.
The plot I describe: 3 students (2 Indian and an immigrant - all girls) holding a position that required to have their respective torso deflected - they seemed calm yet agile, wanting to learn a language that would please their Divine.
A promising voice that explained the mechanism of their next mudra (posture) spelled into the air. The source of this voice was a lady whose back I could only see. Knee length hair secured with a clip. A champa flower resting upon her ears. And she swirled with her temple smiling of a small maroon bindi and draped in mustard yellow saree that illuminated the floor, her foot gently thumped.
"Kousaki raga for the noon", as she exclaimed and explained the mood and angles of the stance.
Losing the count of time, I stood there as the energy of these Goddesses percolated upon me and all I remember from the plot besides this, is that I was smiling.
Justified its work on point - the fragrance of bel - phool rooting of the decorated altar on the right wall of the well-ventilated and naturally lit room, as the fumes wafted towards the picture of Maa Durga and the idol of Prabhu Jagannath and Nataraja.
The instructor with long hair took notice of me and continued the session. This dance, as I could gather, intended at praising, pleasing God. And of course, pleading for proximity. As the class wrapped around salutations, the girls sought blessings from the lady, to which she hugged each and recited a chant.
My curiosity reached her, as it is and she welcomed me. 'My name is 'Nehal and the manjira sounds pulled me here; I said smilingly. Tejaswini ... you may call me 'Swini and I teach Odissi dance'.
We struck an effortless comfort in the very first minute and threw at her this query as to how not I spot ghoomar or bhavai (popular dance forms of Rajasthan) but Odissi. Yes, unity in diversity as we would fill pages essaying during the primary school years, but this space certainly came of a story. And the story had me spend the entire noon at Tejaswini Gautam School of Dance, Pushkar. There was lunch and the noon extended into the twilight.
Tejaswini was once a schoolgirl who'd stare at aeroplanes sans a blink...
story to be continued
Neha M. R. Aggarwal (storyteller) is a psychotherapist, pranic healer based in Delhi; Views presented are personal.