The next morning, my mother forced me out of bed and got me ironing my costumes since it was a Sunday and none of the wash-people were open. I tried to get someone to take me to the Town Hall so I could see the stage, but everyone who owned a motorbike had gone elsewhere. I ate several jackfruit.
Later in the afternoon, both of my uncles: Pavan, Narasimha (my mom's younger and older brothers) came with their families. We all had this family photoshoot session up on the roof which was actually quite hilarious as our photographer got us cracking up right before every picture.
My mom, her parents, and my aunts.
The entire mom's side of my family.I hurriedly rushed out since I had to get to the Town Hall well in advance so I could get ready. By the time we got there, I was stressed to the limit--especially since I didn't have the horde of people who got me ready before my arangetram. I changed into my red dress inside some tiny closet space but was greeted by a professional makeup artist when I came out. She proceeded to complete my makeup and hair within 10 minutes, doing a fantastic job. And we used actual Altha to color my fingers and toes (NOT red Sharpie marker!). I was looking pretty spiffy.
Before my program started, a Classical music group from some local academy performed on the stage. My mom, who was emceeing my performance, introduced me and the dances I was about to do. I stepped onto the stage. It was dusty. Gross! Oh well. The auditorium was full, all 400 seats, and the lights were very bright. I plowed right through Pushpanjali, and danced Natesha Kavuthuvam with full enthusiasm. I'm telling you, bright lights and heavy jewelry make all the difference on stage--they tire you out like crazy. I was already panting and sweating when I left the stage and let the musical group take over for a bit. I was soon ready to do my Alarippu, but we ran into a technical problem which I will blame on Indian inefficiency. For some reason, the Town Hall did not have a CD player so my Baabai had to drive home and grab his DVD player so we could connect that to the speakers and play my CD on it. But all of the skip forward/skip forward controls were on the remote...and he didn't bring the remote. Therefore, my Pushpanjali started playing again when we started my CD up and there was no way to skip forward. He had to zip back home and get the remote while I had a mental breakdown.
After an age, they finally got Alarippu playing and danced it away passionately. I insisted on not taking a break before my next piece, so I glided through Hanuman Chalisa as well. I got back into the dressing room after that so I could change into my blue costume. I had just gotten into my blue costume when people were beckoning me onstage for something. They presented me with a plaque and covered me with a dozen shawls and flower garlands. This is what they do to professional dancers, so quite frankly, I was extremely embarrassed.
Leave it up to the people of Andhra Pradesh to overdo everything :). Some girls from the local dance school gave me flowers and their teacher gave me a statue of Nataraja. She also told me that I forgot to put on my nosering. Crap! So that's why the dressing up part had been relatively painless and tearfree...I had skipped right over the Nosering of Doom. With the help of several people, I got all of the shawls and garlands off (now there were flower petals all over the stage...great) and quickly forced on the nose ring and the little annoying piece that fits between my nostrils.
I got back onstage for my last two padams. As wonderful as it is to have a live orchestra, I like dancing to a CD because I don't have to worry about improvising if the singer or musicians were to pull a fast one and change the repetitions. Everything would be just like it was during. No surprises. No mistakes. I was feeling extremely satisfied when I stepped off stage and the man hosting the event spoke on stage for a bit. I wasn't even tired anymore when I finished up with Mangalam. If my arangetram had felt even a little inadequate to me, this performance made up for it.
Several people who I didn't even know spoke a few praising words about my dance after it was over. Again, I was very surprised and flattered. It is very gratifying to learn that people in India could appreciate my dance so much, even though I, learning it in the US, think my ability is mediocre. I was greeted by many people when I came out, including the professors from my grandfather's college in Vinjamur. They had seen me growing up as a little girl between the ages of 0 and 4 when I lived with my grandparents. I saw close and distant relatives, old friends I had grown up with, and two pairs of very happy grandparents. I was elated. I was also the owner of 6 silk shawls.
Pavan Mama soon whisked me away from the crowd in his car and took me to D.R. Utthams, the restaurant where my dad was hosting a party with his chums...an "afterparty" if you will. Naturally, I was hungry but couldn't swallow even a little bit of food until my belt was loosened. I had 3 paans.
We finally got home and I had to go through the arduous process of undoing my hair all over again. I zonked out until 10 the next morning. As we were eating breakfast, I heard my dance music playing somewhere. I thought that my dad or someone must be playing my CD again. But the stereo wasn't even on. I followed the sound and saw that it was coming from the neighbors. How had they gotten a hold of my music? Later, someone came by and told us that my program had been aired on the local TV channel. And what's more, the newspapers had published color articles on it as well.
Needless to say, I was very flattered, very embarrassed, and very thrilled.
:D
