I’ve known no greater loneliness than to walk onto a dark stage, put my navel to a small fluorescent cross on the ground, and begin. Her name was Chandralekha, and you know her image, the white hair, the intense eyes, the laugh. She lived in a house of swings, facing the Bay of Bengal, in a garden choked with neem trees. An ancient, androgynous, sensual space, where it was simply body being celebrated. But as a dancer, I know loneliness to be a strength.

Source: The Hindu December 30, 2017 11:09 UTC