Warm, Unspoken Certainty.
It was one of the most beautiful quiet moments from a week where days unfolded like domino blocks. I spoke with elegance, mic in hand, draped in a cotton saree. Grey, checkered with white lines bordered with a shimmering bronze; matched by my long, statement bronze triangular earrings, topped with a tiny pop of pink- of the small bindi on my forehead. With every name I introduced and welcomed on stage, my mind processed all of this a little more, this new identity; this new feeling and - way of being looked at; as an educator. It rained outside through a few performances in between and I felt draped into this new identity, a role that needs my voice, presence and perspective in the most human form possible; just the way my heart seeks. The rain felt like the backdrop of the audience seated on this terraced amphitheatre. It washed away remnants of an old identity that took more than it gave, one that always played tug of war with my mind and heart for half a decade. Back to my stud...