Catching my breath. A little. Sort of.

It’s 7 am, and I have been up for quite a while, in the pre-dawn darkness, and for no other reason than that my guilt at not having blogged for so long is praying on my mind.

Seriously.

It’s that bad.

But the last few days, (and the coming week, to be honest) have been so deliciously jam-packed with events and Stuff Happening, that a girl hardly has time to download her photos, let alone sit and cyber chat. So here I am, trying to make amends, by bringing you a little bit up to speed on what is happening.

I have mentioned before in my blog that this time of the year, when the Delhi weather is perfect, is the time for festivals and weddings and melas and polo and guests and outings and concerts, and we all enjoy this time to the full, since the heat of summer is but a month away…or judging by yesterday, perhaps just a mere few days away.

So, seizing the (weather) moment, I have been gadding about, like a seasoned Delhi pro.

Sunday was a guided walk through the Crafts Museum + polo.
Monday was Surajkund Mela.
Yesterday was Akshardham Temple with Pippa + polo + a fabulous dance recital at Kamani.
Today will be a fund raising coffee morning at the British High Commission residence + yes, how on earth did you guess, polo.

So amidst such hectic jollity, where is the time for writing.

You see my dilemma?

Let me work backwards, and start with last night’s dance recital at Kamini to which my friend Asha Framji invited Anjulie and your blogger at large.

There was the usual lunatic traffic which is a staple of Delhi life, and a staple which gets worse day by day, if that makes any sense.

The performance was absolutely fabulous and one of the best modern dance shows I have ever seen. Astad Deboo, whom I have heard about for years but sadly never seen until now, was dancing with 8 young men from the Salaam Baalak Trust, about which I have talked in earlier posts, and it was gorgeous in a way that adjectives don’t describe.

Fabulous dancing, amazing lighting (yes, lighting), and a control and discipline and spartan elegance that was a revelation for me, especially (let me be honest) in the Indian context.

The evening ended with an amazing performance by Astad Deboo, alone on the stage, turning a la whirling dervish.

I didn’t time it, but I would reckon a good 4/5 minutes of slow turning on the spot, the lights changing from one colour to another, playing on his robe that swirled out more and more. Anjulie and I (in my case, a million years ago) both studied ballet, and so we watched in amazement as he turned and turned and turned, not obviously spotting, the way you do in classical ballet.  Brilliant.

One measly little iPhone clip cannot even begin to do justice to a mesmerizing display, but I give you the last 45 seconds of what I think was many, many minutes of stunning technique :

And there you are, up to speed with last night.

And now, off to sell raffle tickets for the Grant Govan Home at the High Comm.

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