es·o·ter·ic: /ˌɛsəˈtɛrɪk/[es-uh-ter-ik]: adjective

1. understood by or meant for only the select few who have special knowledge or interest;

2. belonging to the select few.

It is one of the most euphonious words for me. Also, it is a word I seem to use more frequently as I grow up.

On my recent trip to Thailand, this word came rushing to me as I sat down to watch ‘Nijinsky Siam’ performed by The Pichet Klunchun Dance Company. Set in a slightly run down auditorium of a beautiful University campus, I saw an interesting mix of what looked like Thai’s elite in the front seats, juxtaposed with young students at the back.

Lights dim. Curtains rise. And to a deafening silence, three beautiful men dressed in traditional Thai prints begin the show with slow, restrained and highly controlled movements. All three of them holding the character’s portrait in hand, just moved from one side of stage to another in flawless synchronicity. This continued for a good 6 minutes. (Or more.) The concept then took the audience through a beautiful story of a prince, a princess and a villainous monkey. No music. No sound effects – Simple story telling via hard-hitting bodylines and fluid movements. I was spellbound.

Then I saw the silhouette near me twitching, shifting weight from one side to the other, moving in front, staring at the stage, moving behind, staring at the stage. Then the silhouette’s face moved and I heard a loud, bored yawn leaving his mouth. I froze in my seat. And then I yawned too.

This experience made me wonder if art really needs to be too complicated to be called ‘arty’. As a dancer, I was thrilled with the dancers, their talent and their sheer dedication that reflected in every movement of their lithesome body. But beyond that, I didn’t understand anything. Would it be too plebeian of me to ask for some kind of a synopsis before the acts begin? Would it insult the artist’s craft? If art remains so distant, how will it reach everyone?

On the other hand, does the artist not have the freedom to just express? If he has to spell out or justify every act of his, how does he cope with his own emotional struggles? Does an artist owe a justification to anyone besides himself?

Is art for the artist or is it for the audience? I am still thinking.

I am an artist too and it is my constant battle to seek such answers. This is just one step further in this search. And if ever you are in Bangkok, try and get a seat for yourself when Pichet Klunchun is performing. You will not regret it. You will only start thinking.

Megha D’souza

“Saying ‘I dance’ would be an understatement and an insult to my life.

I express. I move. I create.

Every dance movement I make helps me orient myself in reality,

my own emotions, and my own body.”

- Joseph Baldock

A lot of things transpired in the years that followed. A lot of people connected; a lot more I didn’t bother to connect with. A lot of experiences left a mark; a lot more books & trips made me the person I am today. Not to forget some musicians made a lasting impression. My tattoo could be inspired by any of these…So why did I pick this, one would wonder?

All my close friends & family were asked to guess what could be my tattoo design? Something that is a part of me…for life? Unanimous answer was ‘Dance…’, ‘something related to dance’.

I waited for years to finally figure that something I stumbled upon years back is the ONE I want to live with for the rest of my life. While physically dance existed in my life since I was five, today it is connected to me spiritually. Ghungroos…to me signify dance, symbolize music, denote poise, embody expression, epitomize my raison d’être. Today, dance has become something that will define me for life.

Kevin Andrade, an incredible tattoo artist, got my brief bang on. He eternalized my dancing feet and manifested my love for dance through this beautiful master piece.

The feeling I get when I have my ghungroos on... it is ineffable.

My experience at Khajuraho (apart from the dance fest) was surreal. As I glanced upon the figurines carved upon the temple walls, I tried to envisage what lilting movements preceded that finally got immortalized into these divine sculptures. The grace and poise in these supposedly lifeless murtis is far from frozen.

There are various choreographers and artists who have been mystified by these svelte stone danseuses. Attempts have been made to recreate the magical moves that resulted in these eventual alluring postures.

I am posting some pics from my Khajuraho collection.  Some depicting shringaar ras (expression of adornment), some enjoying a daily ritual and others simply living in the moment, these left me mesmerized.

One day Tribe of Taal will endeavor at reliving the dance of Gods.

Parinda

Partner – Tribe of Taal

I started learning Bharat Natyam when I was 5, but my journey as a dancer is far from over. Yearned to perfect the strict rules of classical dance while letting loose in the rawness of folk dance, I traversed through various rhythms and discoveries of dance genres. My entry into professional stage performances 16 years back only helped me foster my thirst to learn new forms of dance. While I worked with different choreographers; I was always drawn towards Indian dance.

In college I got the opportunity to dabble with choreography – started with Malhar College fest in 1997, this bug never really left me. It got more intense as I danced through my graduation and MBA years. While I found time in my chaotic student life to run to rehearsals and performances, I thought my advertising career would definitely not show mercy and I would find no spare time for my other calling.

But my passion for dance saw through my hectic agency life and eventually even through my current foray into the mad world of TV. I just had to admit, it is to stay with me for life.

While Megha and I spoke of many things we wanted to do together (there were scores on that list ), dance was a common passion. After our dance shows, we always got compliments of how we complement each other. Fuelled by our years of deep friendship and our mutual dissatisfaction with the quality of dance training (apart from classical forms), Tribe of Taal was born after one such conversation.

Tribe for us is the next step in our evolution as choreographers and stage artists. With a vision to take Indian dance to Broadway (or bring Broadway to India) and to set up a residential dance school, we want more people to follow the tribe’s philosophy and abandon living by a template.

Parinda Singh

Partner – Tribe of Taal

10. The morning before every stage show is filled with utter chaos and sometimes even motions…That’s right. You read it right.

9. I HAVE to buy plain black hairpins and big silver safety pins for every show. EVERY show, I HAVE to. Its an OCD. It makes me feel familiar with what’s going to follow later in the day.

8. Packing that little black duffle with everything that spells black and ‘skin colour’ – tights, singlet, UGs (or as my friend says B-R-A hoping no one around will ever figure out what it means. Coded hai, Boss.)

7. Hopping into the cab with fellow dancers with packed sandwiches or sev puris. (Aspiring dancers- this is not what we will teach you to have before a performance!)

6. I personally feel melodiously arrogant as I perch myself in the chair and inform makeup dada that I am ready to get into my new avatar…I love it.

5. In all the chaos that ensues in a green room, that one beautiful moment of silence when the entire troupe comes together to hold hands and pray. My prayer’s not changed all these years – Starts with gratitude for being able to do what I am and ends with wanting more strength to continue doing it. The whole being comes together in this moment.

4. Oh, now comes the last minute indulgence. Will check myself in the mirror, give an admiring, flirtatious glance, take guru’s blessing and run to take my position in the wings. And then……..Mother Nature calls! Always. I mean, Always.

3. Oh and just after that comes the urge to pop in that one piece of plain Dairy Milk chocolate. I don’t even know why this happens in this particular order, if you know what I mean.

2. This is when a little bit of jumpy nervousness sets in. Gets worse when another dancer asks me, “Eh, yeh step ke baad kya aata hai?” Huh?…*Mummmmmyyyyyyyyyy, I don’t remember anything!!!!!*

1. One of the reasons and the single most important reason why I love the stage is because that’s when I feel the most ALIVE. Period.

“When I dance, I can’t judge. I can’t hate. I can’t separate myself from life. I can only be joyful and whole. That’s why I dance”–→ Dancers Quotes.

Megha D’souza
Partner – Tribe of Taal

15 years and counting…That is the number of years we took to explore, wander, experiment, fail and win to finally launch our very own creation – Tribe of Taal.

Is there a romantic, fantasy like history to this? One with how I always wanted to be a dancer OR I always knew I would have a dance venture of my own….There isn’t. The fantasy would fall short, that’s why.

I started dancing from the age of six years, pretty much from when I started forming vague memories of my childhood. At every single-family get together, I performed a step-to-step rendition of Hawa Hawaiii (including the slow motion piece in it!) and loved every bit of the adulation. Started learning Bharatnatyam at the age of 7years and since then there was no looking back. Annual days led to college festivals, which led to professional stage shows. I worked with some of the best choreographers then. Learnt all the styles there were– Indian Folk, Bollywood, Hip hop, Salsa, Contemporary.  I knew then, dance was stamped into my life. Forever.

The wanderer in me, however, wanted to explore more. So in the form of a career, I became part of the entertainment industry. Event management taught me planning, detailing, back stage management and most importantly, patience. Television production made me realize how every idea can be given a larger than life depiction. Dance witnessed this all.

Then came a point where knowing what I really wanted to do became the need of the hour. Only dance made me feel alive. In came some personal doubts – How good am I as a dancer? Why don’t I enjoy this choreographer’s rehearsals? What form do I enjoy the most?

And also came in some dreams and aspirations – How wonderful it would be to choreograph my own piece? I would love to have an academy of mine someday. I want to share what I know with others.

And thus, like it was meant to be – one serious conversation with a friend, dancer and now partner, it was time to dive in. With the enthusiasm of teenagers, we started working on the name, details of our first workshop, ideas to advertise. With stars in our eyes and ghunghroos on our feet, we finally welcomed Tribe of Taal in our lives.

Tribe of Taal is very simply, our attempt to create an expression of our reality. Our style is Indian contemporary – a form that draws its influences from various classical dances of India and merges it with the modern expression. Is it the same as fusion? Partly. But more than fusion, it’s organic and vibrant. It neither has the rigidity of the purist forms, nor the irreverence of some of the new age forms. It’s a tender culmination of our traditional ideologies and the search for where we want to go. It’s very simply, natural.

Get in touch with your natural self. Feel alive like we do. We are there with you at every step – Literally.

Megha D’souza
Partner – Tribe of Taal