Not all journeys unfold in straight lines.
Some bend. Some turn. Some spiral.
Much like dance.
Growing up in India, life appeared structured: education, learning music, veena, and cultural dance traditions, guided by elders, shaped by expectations. Yet even within that structure, there was movement beneath the surface, a subtle rhythm guiding choices and shaping awareness.
Dance entered not just as an art, but as a way of being. It revealed early that beauty does not lie in straight lines, but in angles, curves, and intentional bends.
I vividly remember stepping into the role of Shiva, a deeply special and defining experience. Under the direction of the Vinjamuri sisters (in our colony called BEML Nagar), in the dance drama Girija Kalyanam, I was chosen for the lead role. I immersed myself completely with a lot of interest in the practice sessions, in the anticipation, and ultimately, in the performance.The dance drama, quite a lengthy one with several scenes, was all hand written, choreographed with live music.
That experience opened further doors. I was invited to perform in several productions, including Ritu Samyogam, where I portrayed Grīṣma Rāṇi, the Summer Queen. These were largely cultural ensemble productions rather than parallel, rigorous classical immersions, yet each role deepened my connection to expression, rhythm, and embodied storytelling.
It was not merely an act of performing, but of experiencing.
A different level of expression, where something deeper takes over.
I had a strong desire to formally learn classical dance. But circumstances led me toward learning the veena instead: due to the availability of teachers and my parents’ guidance. At the time, I remember feeling disappointed that dance could not unfold more fully.
Looking back now, there is only gratitude. The veena became a profound anchor, perhaps the very discipline that refined my inner listening.
Then came migration to the United States after marriage, another shift in rhythm. A departure from known choreography into something more improvised.
After a while, choosing to step into a stay-at-home phase may have seemed like stillness from the outside. But like a held posture in dance, it carried quiet strength, awareness, and preparation.
When it came to my daughters, I found a quiet continuation of my early longing. They were introduced to Kuchipudi (an Indian classical dance form from the south), initially because it was available locally, but it became much more than access.
In taking them to classes and staying involved, the intention was not just to teach an art form, but to integrate it into life. Through Kuchipudi, they began to experience alignment of body, mind, and expression, discovering that discipline and creativity are not opposites, but partners.
The dance never paused.
It shifted form: becoming inquiry, evolving through academia, and deepening into an inner pull toward ancient wisdom, experienced rather than just studied.
In that space of convergence, my Project Upaasana emerged.
Not as a linear project, but as a composition: where tradition and science meet, where scholarship and lived experience intersect, where the inner and outer find rhythm together.
Looking back, the path was never fragmented.
It was choreographed, just not in straight lines.
Each bend had a purpose.
Each pause held energy.
Each shift carried direction.
Life, then, is not a straight journey to be managed. It is a dance to be understood.
Angular. Fluid. Evolving.
And perhaps that is the essence: to trust the movement, even when it does not appear linear… because a deeper rhythm is always at play.
The Dance of Life!