the eternal wife... dance, drama & dazzle!

Watching an Indian classical dance show isn’t the first time for me, but watching a classical indian tragedy dance drama with the touch of a kama sutra would be the first time experience. What is more incredible is the dancers were consisting of diverse shapes, colours and from various ethnical backgrounds. Also, the startling part is the show starts with a performance of worshiping of the Lord Shiva with the setting of a Shiva temple; In-fact there were many abinayas (gesture) in the performance throughout the show in regards to worshipping of Lord Shiva. Let me tell you this, Lord Shiva is a hindu God… he is like an ultimate form of Hinduism! And, seeing these performers (from various ethnical background) express their movements and techniques of an indian classical dance flawlessly and most importantly without prejudice is something I didn't expect to see... not in this land! The dancers were absolutely remarkable in articulate their abinayas and hastas... in a pure hindu way! The eye movements, the hand gestures and every single step were performed immaculately despite the fact that some of the dancers were not actually trained to perform bharathanatyam originally. And, seeing them dancing seriously made me shed some tears cause I missed the chance of completing my bharathanatyam.

I have to admit that the choreographer, directors and everyone else involves in this production did an amazing job!

And, I also must say that in a way, it’s an eye opener for me too, because... you see, despite the fact that I’ve always been fascinated by Malaysian Art Loving Community, you know, the kind of people that love theatre, music and plays... I have to confess that once or twice I’ve made some fun remarks of these people, perhaps it’s because of their individuality and how they expressed these things. But now I get it… I totally get it! These are group of people who might dress-up or even behave oddly in times but what they all have in common is that they love art... without boundaries (& bigotry). So, thanks anu... for taking me along for these shows. Believe it or not it actually helps me a lot! Because when I’m with these people somehow I feel very relaxed and easy as if I’m at my world with my kinda people who speak my language! And they don’t look at me in a weird way...

escapism or desperate move from reality...

I have fallen down into the addictive world of light romantic fiction (or chick lit)… again. This happens to me every now and then. Since I have disconnected my cable and sick of watching same stuff over and over in my dvd player… I’d picked up my old habit of reading at home. However, no matter how many wonderful other books I have in my book shelves, no matter how many months/years I have waited to read them, all I want to do is curl up with my chick lit featuring a twenty-something heroine, a well-matched hero and a happy ending. I’m not sure if this counts as simple escapism anymore or whether it has spilled over into desperate-move-from-reality territory.

What really surprising is just few years back I was big ridiculous book snob. If it had a pink cover, I would not go near it. If it was on a bestseller list, I would not touch it. If it had the Oprah mark of approval, all it earned from me was a sneer. Oh yes, I was delightful and not at all annoying as an adolescent.

It is strange that these are the books I get the most comfort from these days, be they by Sophie Kinsella, Cecelia Ahern, Melissa Hill or any other light romance writer, are books that I turned my nose up at so violently nowadays. In early days my prejudice against these genre lasted far longer than any of my other snobbish inclinations, right up until the last few years. I had this mental image of the kind of women who read these books as either mindless housewives or desperate old maids, locked up with their books and their cats. And there is nothing I am more afraid of in life than becoming one of those old maids – and not just because I’m not a big fan of cats, which seem to be a required accessory. I read these books because they entertain me and make me happy and because, logically, I know that there is no single ‘type’ of reader for these books, not given their massive popularity. But then my mother spots me with one of these books, reminds me that I am thirty something and alone, and that the only one of those things that is going to change if I keep reading those books is my age, and the image of the old maid and her cats surges back into my mind. But it is a vicious circle: the more my mother chides me for reading, the more I want the comfort and escapism books provide.

I don’t really know how to conclude this. As yet, there clearly is no conclusion for me. I just (just! Ha!) want my life to be a little more novel-esque – any meaningful plot development, any new characters, any romance would be an improvement over its current trajectory – but freeze when it comes to making any changes that would lead to such progress. So, sometimes, I read instead, as a substitute for having new experiences of my own. And I kind of hate that about myself.

cause I've got one hand in my pocket...

Alanis Morissette’s song Hand in My Pocket from her Jagged Little Pill album is playing in my Mp3 player as I write this... I've never been a great interpreter of song lyrics, but I’ve always liked this one for its ambiguity. It seems to be saying to me that there are two sides to everything. One hand is in the pocket and the other one is doing something else... It’s like when things are not going really great, you don’t have to look over your shoulder and that life has a wonderful randomness to it...

I'm broke but I'm happy
I'm poor but I'm kind
I'm short but I'm healthy, yeah
I'm high but I'm grounded
I'm sane but I'm overwhelmed
I'm lost but I'm hopeful, baby

And what it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be fine fine fine
Cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving a high five

I feel drunk but I'm sober
I'm young and I'm underpaid
I'm tired but I'm working, yeah
I care but I'm restless
I'm here but I'm really gone
I'm wrong and I'm sorry, baby

And what it all comes down to
Is that everything's gonna be quite alright
Cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is flicking a cigarette

And what it all comes down to
Is that I haven't got it all figured out just yet
Cause I've got one hand in my pocket
And the other one is giving the peace sign

I'm sad but I'm laughing
I'm brave but I'm chicken shit
I'm sick but I'm pretty, baby...

How odd as I just realized that the song seems totally appropriate (word by word) for me (except for the part I’m young and underpaid, well, I am underpaid but not sure ‘bout the young part). The song actually reflects exactly how I feel right now! And, the thing is Alanis is about my age right now and this song was written almost 15 years ago! And I remember, I felt as if it was my theme-song back then when it was newly released and how strangely it's stilllll reflects how I feel right this moment... after 15 years! Was it me... who hasn't been evolving (in a good way) all this time or was it the song that is so incredibly wonderful that it could possibly plays a significant part at any age...

Sirilah Raman... Perplexed!