Dance as an Anchor in Loss
Dance has been a part of my life since I was five years old. Over the years, I’ve written about its ability to create an anchor, a sense of belonging, and the refinement of aesthetics. But its most profound gift to me has been its role in my journey through grief. It has held me steady during life’s greatest challenges—first after the loss of my son to heart disease and later as I rebuilt my life as a single parent.
January 2007: A Turning Point
I remember January 2007 vividly. Just a month had passed since my first born’s death, and I was lost in an overwhelming sea of grief. That’s when @praveendance , long-time teacher and friend, asked me to perform in a nearby city. His invitation felt like a lifeline, a chance to take one steady step forward.
When the day arrived, I was consumed with uncertainty. How could I step onto the stage when my heart was so heavy? Yet, as I prepared—tying bells to my ankles, applying makeup, and donning my costume and applying alta to my hand—it felt strange , like watching myself from a distance and something shifted. I wasn’t just a grieving mother anymore; I was an artiste. The “costume of grief” was replaced by the “costume of a performer.”
As I moved through the performance, the pain didn’t disappear, but it began to transform. On that stage, I realized something profound: life is a series of roles and costumes we wear temporarily before changing again. In that moment, I knew I could take on a new role—that of a mother who could find strength within her grief. This performance became a pivotal moment in my healing, reminding me of who I was before motherhood. Dance gave me the strength to begin again.
2013–2014: Grounding Through Adavus
Fast forward to 2013–2014, and I found myself at another crossroads. Newly single, between jobs, and financially stretched, I felt unmoored. Once again, I turned to dance—not to perform, but simply to reconnect with myself.
For a year, I practiced daily with @ramaavenugoapalan. We focused on plain “Adavus”—the foundational steps of Bharatanatyam—for an hour each day. The repetition and rhythm of those movements became my anchor. It gave me something to hold onto, a way to ground myself physically and emotionally amidst the chaos of rebuilding my life.
Those sessions were more than technical practice; they became moments of laughter, exploration, and camaraderie. Through dance, I reconnected with who I was long before wife-hood. It gave me the space to heal and a routine to focus on, helping me rebuild a sense of identity based on my own inner strength.
Rebuilding Connections Through Dance
As I healed, my dance practice grew into new opportunities. I began performing with friends, creating enriching relationships, and even collaborating on a series of articles with Rama Venugopalan. Writing about dance helped me channel my grief into creativity and redefine my sense of self. I was no longer defined by the roles I had lost but by the strength I found through my art.
Lessons From the Stage
Dance has been far more than a skill or a form of movement for me. It has been a mirror reflecting my truest self, free from the roles and responsibilities life assigns. Here’s what Bharatanatyam has taught me:
- Healing Comes Through Movement: Pain needs a channel. Whether through dance, art, or other forms of expression, movement can create space for healing.
- We Are More Than Our Roles: Life’s roles are temporary costumes. At our core, we are something deeper, and staying connected to that essence is vital.
- Detachment Brings Perspective: Dance has taught me to view pain with a sense of distance, as we play many roles going through grief, loss , heartbreak etc. Understanding that it is part of life’s flow rather than its entirety.
- Routine Builds Strength: In times of uncertainty, even the simplest routines—like practicing adavus—can be grounding and stabilizing.
- Art Forges Connections: Through collaboration and creativity, art builds bridges to others and to ourselves.
The Enduring Gift of Dance
Today, dance remains an integral part of my life. It is not just an art form but a source of healing, strength, and transformation. Bharatanatyam has carried me through my darkest moments, reminding me that no matter how heavy the loss, it is always possible to begin again.
Dance is not just what I do—it is who I am. It has helped me wear and shed life’s many roles, teaching me that even through grief, we can find joy, strength, and the courage to move forward.
