Smriti

Chapter-10

The dance students assembled in the Natya mandapa, a large rectangular space used solely for imparting dance lessons and organizing dance functions for various festivals and events.

The beauty of the mandapa could never satiate Smriti's eyes. Four pillars in the corners stood tall, supporting the roof. These pillars were adorned with various dancing sculptures and floral designs sculpted only from stone. The roof itself was a stunning work of craftsmanship, illuminated by both precious stones and earthen lamps. Right in front of the entrance, there stood a medium-sized sculpture of the god of dance, Nataraja.

Smriti touched the floor with her fingers and brought them to her forehead in reverence. She took a deep breath as the familiar scent of sandalwood incense filled her nose. The garland around the god's sculpture spread its fragrance throughout the room, creating a divine and serene environment for all those present.

A woman entered the mandapa, prompting the students to bow to her in respect. This woman was in her middle age, with a few grey hairs pinned to the sides of her head and slight wrinkles on her forehead. However, her stance remained as graceful as that of a youthful woman. Her fingers and feet appeared thin, outlining her bones, a testament to the hard work of a dancer past her prime.

Her saree reached just below her knees, and she had tied the pallu tightly around her waist. Her kohl-rimmed eyes glanced at the children assembled in front of her, and she smiled, saying, "Get ready for pranam."

Smriti quickly folded her arms near her chest, her fingers elegantly curling into the katakamukha mudra. With a small smile, she tapped her feet one by one and turned her face to the right. Her fingers morphed into the shikhara mudra, and she soon lowered her body to the ground, resting on her toes. Touching the floor, she closed her eyes and prayed to Mother Earth to allow her to dance on her bosom and to ask forgiveness for the pain it would cause her on her body.

The Natyaacharya, the dance teacher, after finishing the pranam herself, announced, "You all will have a year-end project where you need to present a dance piece based on any of our stories from literature, the popular dramas, or, if you want to explore more of your creativity and other themes, those are welcome as well. But it has to be choreographed and practiced only by you. No teacher will help, except the music team for the songs. To make it easier, all of you are allowed to perform solo or in groups. If you are forming a group, then by the end of this month, come to me to register them along with those who shall opt for solo presentation."

"And what about our first term examination?" Natesh asked.

"The same as before. Theory and demonstration. Whatever you all have learned, they will ask you to present it or ask questions about it. This time, I hope you all demonstrate taala correctly. Each year, someone or the other goofs up," said the dance teacher.

The whole class nodded their heads at her. Some exchanged sheepish smiles and began counting various taala cycles on their fingers, which made the teacher smile.

Clapping her hands to regain the class's focus, she said, "You all can revise the old lessons some other time. There will be ample time for revisions, but now we are going to learn a new piece."

"Please, this time let it be Krishna Natyaacharya!" Smriti said, almost pleading. Natesh rolled his eyes with a small smile, while the others looked at the teacher, curious about the new piece for the year.

"Krishna answered our dear Smriti's prayers, so yes." Smriti jumped and looked at Natesh, saying, "I told you. This time, we would start with Krishna."

As the class finally begins, Smriti excitedly learns every moment and tries to execute it to perfection. Smriti always had a habit of following her teacher's steps, even when she hadn't learned them completely. She believed that following those steps beforehand would give her a rough idea about the movement sequence, thus making it easy for her to execute it well.