The Rasa of Endurance
The third day at Adi Shakti began with a mixture of awe and dread. By now, the reality of this intense dance residency had truly set in. Nine hours of dancing every day—three structured sessions and countless moments in between spent rehearsing, refining, and pushing ourselves to remember every nuance of what we had been taught.
We began our practice at 8 a.m. sharp, moving through the rigorous exercises and sequences. The second session at 10:45 a.m. demanded even more focus as we delved deeper into the intricacies of Odissi, and by the time the final session began at 4:30 p.m., most of us were dragging our aching bodies across the floor, the pain settling in like an unwelcome visitor. When the day finally ended at 8 p.m., it felt like both a triumph and a trial.
Exhaustion was everywhere—on our faces, in our movements, and especially in our feet. My own body felt like it had been through a battle. I woke up that morning with a swollen face, my feet throbbing, and my ankle protesting every step. Swelling, aches, and even minor injuries became a shared experience for all 15 of us. We exchanged knowing glances, sometimes even wry smiles, as if silently asking one another how we would make it through another five days of this grueling bootcamp.
And yet, amidst the physical toll, there was joy. Something deeper was stirring—a rasa that seemed to rise above the limitations of our bodies. Pain is an inevitable companion for dancers, but what struck me on this third day was how our spirit seemed to break through the barriers of exhaustion and discomfort.
The experience of rasa in dance—be it joy, passion, or transcendence—becomes a force that pulls the body forward, even when it feels like giving up. This rasa is both a blessing and a paradox. It makes us endure, even when every step feels like torture. Is it good or bad? I don’t know. But I do know that on this day, as we pushed past our swollen ankles, aching backs, and sheer fatigue, there was a unity among us. A shared understanding that dance is not just about the body—it is about the spirit that drives it.
By the end of the day, though we were physically broken, our hearts were soaring. There is something magical about the way the spirit lifts the body, and for a dancer, that spirit is everything. It transforms pain into purpose and exhaustion into exhilaration.
As I went to bed that night, every part of me aching, I couldn’t help but feel grateful. Pain, after all, is fleeting. But the strength, resilience, and rasa we discovered on this third day would stay with us forever.