Even over the telephone, the sense of anticipation, and sometimes, uncertainty, is electric. The aspiring choreographers at the Gati Summer Dance Residency are busy preparing for their final joint presentation, a week before the formal showcase, “All Warmed Up”, at New Delhi’s Shri Ram Centre on June 15-16, 2011.

Bela is a different woman at different times. In Mumbai, she is an actress. You might hear her singing on the radio. She shakes her hips while moonlighting as a wedding singer.

Some young classical dancers might be forgiven for thinking that an arangetram or debut marks the end of their dance careers.

On Sunday, the monsoon hit Kerala of its own volition. Since then, the meteorological department has demurred as usual and altered its predictions. Meanwhile, the sweaty thousands who fervently prayed for the rains are busy soaking up the last vestiges of fiery sunshine.

Vinita Karim has traversed the path of the sun.

At 4 am, a profusion of teenagers and adolescents file out of their beds quite readily, armed to face the day.

Meet a performing artist in India and chances are that she will mention how long she has trained. A figure that makes for at least one decade is de rigueur; more than one is even better. Dance training, especially in Indian classical styles, is very keenly regulated by calculations

“If India forgets Bharatanatyam, there will always be foreigners to dance it,” remarks Louis Malle in his 1969 documentary Phantom India.

Sometimes, music finds its way into quite unlikely spheres. In doing so, it extends and subverts the paradigm of performance with which it is most naturally associated.

It might just be easier to plot the path of light.