The Immortals of Meluha
Page 16

That was wellput! She can’t say no!
Sati looked surprised. This was unexpected. ‘Umm, okay,’ she managed to say.
A delighted Shiva immediately moved to the centre of the stage. He took off the angvastram covering his upper body and tossed it aside. Krittika’s quick anger at the perceived insult to her mistress was forgotten quickly as she sighed at Shiva’s rippling physique. Sati, though, began to wonder how Shiva would bend such a muscular body into the contortions that were required for this style of dancing. Flexibility was usually sacrificed by a human body at the altar of strength.
Playing lightly on his dhol, the Guruji asked Shiva, ‘Tell me the beat that you are comfortable with, young man.’
Shiva folded his hands into a namaste, bent low and said, ‘Guruji, could you just give me a minute please? I need to prepare for the dance.’
Dancing was something Shiva knew as well as warfare. Facing east, he closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly. Then he bent down on his knees and reverentially touched the ground with his head. Standing up, he turned his right foot outwards. Then he raised his left leg off the floor in a graceful arching movement till the foot was above knee height, as he bent his right knee slightly to balance himself. His left foot pointed in a direction exactly between the bearing of his right foot and his face. Only a calm breeze broke the almost deathly silence that enveloped the audience. The Guruji, Sati and Krittika looked in amazement at Shiva. They did not understand what he was doing but could feel the energy that Shiva’s stance was emanating.
Shiva raised both his arms in an elegant circular movement to the sides to bring them in line with his shoulder. His right hand was moulded into a position like it was holding an imaginary dumru, a small, handheld percussion instrument. His left hand was open with its palm facing upward, almost like it was receiving some divine energy. He held this pose for some time; as his glowing face showed that Shiva was withdrawing into his own world. Then his right hand moved effortlessly forward, almost as if it had a mind of its own. Its palm was now open and facing the audience. Somehow, the posture seemed to convey a feeling of protection to a very surprised Sati. His left arm then moved slowly from its shoulder height position to come in front of him with the palm facing down. The left arm stopped moving when the hand was pointing almost directiy at the left foot. Shiva held this pose for some time. And then began the dance.
Sati stared in wonder at Shiva. He was performing the same steps as her. Yet it looked like a completely different dance. His hands moved effortlessly as his body moved almost magically.
How could a body this muscular also be so flexible? The Guruji tried helplessly to get his dhol to give Shiva the beats. But clearly that wasn’t necessary. For it was Shiva’s feet which were leading the beat for the dhol!
The dance conveyed the various emotions of a woman. At the beginning it conveyed her feelings of joy and lust as she cavorted with her husband. Then it conveyed her fury and pain on the wrongful death of her mate. Even with Shiva’s rough masculine body, he managed to convey the tender yet strong emotions of a grieving woman.
Shiva’s eyes were open. But the audience realised that he was oblivious to them. Shiva was in his own world. He did not dance for the audience. He did not dance for appreciation. He did not dance for the music. He danced only for himself. Rather, it almost seemed like his dance was guided by a celestial force. Sati realised that Shiva was right. He had opened himself and the dance had come to him.
After what seemed like an eternity the dance came to an end, with Shiva firmly shutting his eyes. He held the final pose for a long time as the glow slowly left him. It was almost like he was returning to this world. Shiva gradually opened his eyes to find Sati, Krittika and the Guruji gaping at him in complete awe.
The Guruji was the first to find his voice. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Shiva.’
‘No, no. Not the body. I meant who are you?’
Shiva crooked his eyes together in a frown and repeated, ‘I am Shiva.’
‘Guruji, may I ask a question?’ asked Sati.
‘Of course you may.’
Turning to Shiva, Sati asked, ‘What was that you did before the dance? Was it some kind of preparatory step?’
‘Yes. It’s called the Natarajpose. The pose of the Lord of dance!
‘The Nataraj pose? What does it do?’
‘It aligned my energy to the universal energy so that the dance emerges on its own.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘Well, it’s like this: amongst our people, we believe that everything in the world is a carrier of shakti or energy. The plants, animals, objects, our bodies, everything carries and transmits energy. But the biggest carrier of energy that we are physically in touch with is Mother Earth herself — the ground that we walk on.’
‘What does that have to do with your dance?’
‘For anything that you do, you need energy. You have to source the energy around you. The energy comes from people, from objects, from Mother Earth herself. You have to ask for that energy respectfully.’
‘And your Nataraj pose helps you to access any energy that you want?’ asked the Guruji.
‘It depends on what I want the energy for. The Nataraj pose helps me to ask respectfully for energy for a dance that wants to come to me. If I wanted the energy for a thought to come to me, I would have to sit cross-legged and meditate.’
‘It seems that the energy favours you, young man,’ said the Guruji. ‘You are the Nataraj, the Lord of dance!’
‘Oh no!’ exclaimed Shiva. ‘I am just a medium of the boundless Nataraj energy. Anyone can be the medium.’
‘Well, then you are a particularly efficient medium, young man,’ said the Guruji. Turning to Sati, he said, ‘You don’t need me if you have a friend like him, my child. If you want to be taught by Shiva, it would be my honour to excuse myself.’
Shiva looked at Sati expectantly. This had gone much better than he expected.
Say yes, dammit!
Sati however seemed to withdraw into herself. Shiva was starded to see the first signs of vulnerability in this woman. She bowed her head, an act which did not suit her proud bearing and whispered softly, ‘I mean no disrespect to anyone, but perhaps I do not have the skills to receive training of this level.’
‘But you do have the skill,’ argued Shiva. ‘You have the bearing. You have the heart. You can very easily reach that level.’
Sati looked up at Shiva, her eyes showing just the slightest hint of dampness. The profound sadness they conveyed took Shiva aback.
What the hell is going on?
‘I am very far from any level, Shiva,’ mumbled Sati.
As she said that, Sati found the strength to control herself again. The politely proud manner returned to her face. The mask was back. ‘It is time for my puja. With your permission Guruji, I must leave.’ She turned towards Shiva. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you again Shiva.’
Before Shiva could respond, Sati turned quickly and left, followed by Krittika.
The Guruji continued to stare at a flummoxed Shiva. At length, he bent low with a formal namaste towards Shiva and said, ‘It has been my life’s honour to see you dance.’
Then he too turned and left. Shiva was left wondering at the inscrutable ways of the Meluhans.