the one about dancers

Have you seen a swan? They are these big white birds, that depending on your point of view, are extremely beautiful, graceful and majestic, gliding on a serene lake, definitely King of Birds in his element, or extremely disproportionate, fierce creatures, waddling on some grassy bank, squawking stridently, huge wings spread threateningly, certainly not to be trifled with.
When I think of dancers, I think of swans.
At a bus stop, or behind a desk, at the supermarket, or even picking up their child from school, you'd never know these completely ordinary people were so special. But play the music, and bam! Watch them toss their heads and shrug off that mantle of 'ordinary'. Now they are in their element! See their eyes sparkle as they strike a pose, strut their stuff and GROOVE!
I am part of the dance community. In October 2009, I joined The Danceworx, a dance school to some and a sanctuary to me. It is the place I come to three times a week, to play at being 'young' again. In the studio, I am no longer wife, or mother, or sister, or daughter.... I am anyone I want to be. Saraginah, temptress and seductress, or an innocent, reveling in the ability to fly, or an African warrior princess. Maybe a Smooth Criminal, or an American Gangsta, you know what I'm sayin'? For 1hr and 15mins, I forget my real life, and go where the music leads me... It's the highlight of my week, and to the people who make it happen, I am grateful...
They are teachers who lead the class. They find themselves at the studio, come rain or shine, and they dance their hearts out. That's after getting their asses whipped in tech class all morning. Lunch is an unspoken of luxury afforded them only if they are home ill or injured! Sometimes I catch them surreptitiously opening a box at 6:00pm and wolfing down a few spoonfuls of, by now congealing, pilaf or something. Or treating themselves to a greasy patty from the local bakery. I've heard the bakery owner has bought himself a new car since The Danceworx opened! These kids give so much of themselves. They invest in their students.
My first teacher was Pancham. She, on any given day, is a patch of sunshine in the landscape of my life. Then there was Akshat. Akshat reminds me of a clockwork soldier with his precise clean moves. Next was beautiful Ellie. She is like a coconut. Once you get through the tough shell, she is a sweet refreshing lovely. Not to be taken lightly, Ellie will push you till you reach your complete potential. Now there's Naomi. Young Naomi can light up a room with her energy and enthusiasm. She is one of the strongest women I know. It is this intrinsic strength that makes Naomi look like she's dancing on air... And of course there's Jaison... Funny, sensitive and absolutely riveting, Jaison is the Studio Head. Jaison conducts a class with an ease that suggests that he was born for this. He moves like a panther, each sinuous move blending into the other, yet in no way disguising the blatant power behind them. The only thing that might detract from this display of perfection, would probably be the mischief obvious in his eyes, or the funny nonsense that comes out of his mouth! I'm always waiting for some poor unfortunate to catch Jaison's evil eye, for then we are in for a treat of epic proportions!
Why do I dance? Why do I put my body through the rigours that are our exercises? Is it really necessary to stretch my muscles to these extremes?  Do I need to be able to spin around like a dervish?
Questions I ask myself regularly. Answer: No. It's as unnecessary as it is to eat a big fat brownie oozing melted chocolate... It just feels really good to be able to do it...
This is why I dance. Because I can.
It is said that our bodies are akin to temples. Then it is only fitting that we worship at the altar of dance. If the Aryans are the most superior human race, then I say that Dancers are the Aryans of athletes.
This is why I'm proud to be a dancer.

Celebrate Traditions

Six years ago I thought I was pregnant. I was nauseous, I had put on weight and wasn't following any birth control regime. However, the doctors assured me I wasn't. The only tiny seed I had developing in my body was in my brain. I had a pitutary adenoma. A benign tumour that wouldn't kill me, but could strike me blind overnight.
From that day on, my life turned into a series of intervals between medications, and hours spent in doctor waiting-rooms. This went on for three years. Finally the doctor won. The Endocrinologist, I mean. I could now move on to the Gynaecologist. One laproscopy, an IUI and three IVF's later, I was done with the whole  baby issue. My body was broken and so was my spirit. My faith was pretty shaky too.
 It was time to 'let go' and let the healing begin. Without the Doctors.
 Music, exercise and a fabulous holiday in Spain. Ten months later I had another seed growing inside me... We called it Adam.
It seems life hadn't given up on me...
I breezed through my pregnancy! I could eat anything! I did Yoga and even took a belly dancing class! Adam was a most resilient foetus! His only objection was to my sleeping. If I lay down, he'd kick me hard.
He was born at 3:17pm on 23rd January 2009. And from that day forward my heart has been walking outside my body...
We baptised him a month later.

So Happy to have You

This picture was taken by the amazing Dayanita Singh. Adam was 9 months old, and we were at Siddharth and Sumair's birthday party. Adam was enthralled by everything! The lights, the balloons, so many people... His curiosity was a tangible thing!
I made the layout with my favorite MME papers! I used metallic floss to add texture to my page, and covered the diecut with Distress Rock Candy.

the one about teething

My son was ill two nights ago. He was cutting a tooth, a molar, and cutting teeth makes him ill. His pediatrician says that when babies get teeth, all they get are teeth, but I am unconvinced. When Adam gets teeth, he stops eating, he gets the runs, he gets a mild fever, and no medicine makes him better.
 What's worse is that the tooth doesn't come out in one go. It's like an iceberg. Only the pearly white tip can be seen, surrounded by pink gums. The molar is the iceberg that sank the Titanic!
 Adam wont open his mouth to show me the offending mass, so I have to wait till he starts bawling. Then with him in my arms, I have to contort my neck into a most unnatural position, angle his open maw towards the light, trying to ignore the ringing in my ears from the huge volume of sound coming from his body, all the while making soft crooning sounds and offering platitudes, hoping to calm him down. I imagine our exchange goes somewhat like this:
Me: It's all right baby...
Adam: Waaaaaaaah (No it certainly is not all right)
Me: Everything going to be OK...
Adam: Waaaaaaah (Really? How so?)
Me: Rock a bye baby on the tree top...
Me: Ok hush now. I love you... I've got you...
Adam: Sniff... (That's better. I love you too. Just hold me.)
No medicine works on him when he's teething. Only I can make him feel better... I hold him, kiss his forehead and love him as much as I can. If he falls asleep, I go pee or eat or stretch...
I also give him Biochem #21. I think all mothers must have a bottle in their arsenal. Think of it as Magic in a bright yellow and red bottle... The last year has gone by in periods of 'teething' and between 'teething'. BC21 helped keep my sanity.