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November, 9th, 2014

This evening, I saw for the first time, a dance recital by Janaki Rangarajan. It was as if an Apsara, a heavenly damsel had descended upon earth from Lord Indra’s court.

This is a dancer whose body proportions seem in alignment with the codes of Shilpa-Shastra. When she sits into her Aramandi, our eyes enter the perfect geometry of a circle within a square. A rooted dancer, with toned muscled limbs, vitality upon her skin, lucidity in her eyes, sensuousness brimming yet contained inside subtlety and exuberance.

There was a handful of audience in the recital hall, and yet her entire being spoke with a fire that illumined the large vacuum with scintillating luminosity. Her resonance had a sparkle of an otherworldly sort. A heavenly danseuse, once chiseled onto an ancient temple frieze, she momentarily steps out to share her vitality, her breath, her bosom, her vulva and her angular sensuality with us mortals. She is a fireball rolling inside a geometric form of a square, a circle, and a symmetry that enters the Bindu, the central singular point, with an inwardness that pleases all present in Lord Indra’s court alone!

In stillness and silence, her feet lock together, big toe upon big toe, held inside a kaya-madhya-sutra, the central, invisible, ethereal, silvery thread. Her skin, luminous like milk, and fragrant like Lavender. She is poetry incarnate.

Her physical body is a puppet of her inner mindscape. It moves, breathes, hisses, and pulsates in a state of trance, of wild abandon and oblivion. She invites you to enter woman to woman, man to woman, into an erotic world of fever and desire, and yet simultaneously mirrors to us, the potential of our human birth!

Not a hair out of place, her eyes bold and stressing a portal into the other world. Her beckoning lips, lined with the scarlet red blood of life. Her earrings, bejeweled chandeliers embedded with sparkling stones, birthing rainbows in every twirl and swirl.

Her eyes lined with the black soot of a bat cave. Her long hair, well groomed like the silken tail of a black stallion, with three diamond flower motifs speckled, equidistantly like the constellation of the Orion’s belt, upon a dark night sky.

Her body wrapped in fine ebony black and crimson silk. The central fan adorning her vulva is a palette of earthy browns, reds and ochers. The red alta accentuates her sinuous feet and fingers. Her long nails painted electric reddish-pink like the metallic shell of a beetle from the Amazonian rain forest.

A carved emblem of a temple altar with a bejeweled Goddess at its center, hung loosely just beneath her round bosom. It was held back by just a little stitch upon her silken blouse. A delicate necklace like the even grains of a golden hued corncob, frames her long neck. Diamonds glitter upon both her nostrils, and one hung from the center of her nose divide, drawing us in towards her red lips. Sensuous and enticing, she stood upon a dimly lit stage. The music unspun its magic, while we waited with bated breath. And then she danced …

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