a vase of bones

}~miracles are meant to happen~{

~~3 years earlier~~
june 5
1916
6:05 am

thakadeem thadeem naadhra dheem tatom tradheem
dhiranaaa tana dhirana
thakadeem thadeem naadhra dheem tatom tradheem
dhiranaaaaa tana dhiranaaa

today she is teaching the dance for the desh thillana , such a graceful dance style but all these girls are so lousy and all the vital expressions were missing in them.

especially the girl in the extreme end, in the light brown half saree, who was preoccupied with her loose earings.
she was in deep water.

lakshmi amma would say that,
<a dancer's eyes should go everywhere but to herself>

lakshmi amma,
the bharatanatyam teacher,
who lived in the next street.

everyday at six am, she starts her class in the terrace of her modest house.

she has been teaching dance for a very long time,way before I was born.

yet, everyday I look at her and she is just as young and evergreen
as the day I first saw her.

she was on my rare list of admirations.
lakshmi amma.

she had the most pleasant voice I have ever heard, and the way she danced was extremely adroit, she was delicate but left a strong lasting impression.

her movements were the epitome of elegance.

I have always wanted to master the arts of singing and dancing from her,
however my arrogant father thought different.

he scolded saying,
"indira, indha paatu , naatanam laam namma okaandhu paakura kudumbam,
erangi aadi kaasu vaangura kudumbam illa"

nevertheless, who is he to stop me.

I have never spoken to lakshmi amma but everyday from when I was six, I would wake up and watch her and her students do the namaskar and I would also dance along with them from the window of my room.

but today,
I will not be joining them due to the rare occasion of a dream being fulfilled,

I opened my room door slowly, and walked through the dark corridor.

I stopped at the first door to my left, I slowly turned the teak wood handle and entered the dimly light room.

I could make out a small boyish figure lying on the floor, with pillows scattered everywhere and his blankets coiled around him in such a tight grip that, from far sight,
it looked like his skin.

the inner corners of his eyebrows were angled upward, his face was set in an immovable frown and his hands were clenched around the pillow.

poor anbu.
he was having nightmares again.

I carefully closed the door,
afraid I might wake up my little brother who already seemed sleep derived.

as I closed the door, I heard a clatter of objects fall down in the next room , I was standing there in perplexity whether I should keep walking or let my inquisitiveness take over me.

I lied down on the cool athangudi tiling and I could hear somebody walking to and fro.

so that bastard was awake.

I could feel the tense movements and I heard another clatter of objects falling down.

I went near the wall and pressed my ears as hard as possible, I could hear hushed whispers and scrambling of drawers.