And then one day in August 1975, my life changed. It was a stormy day and I ran into the Bhulabhai Memorial Institute in Bombay to take shelter and pass a little time before moving on to a fashionable restaurant where I was to have dinner. I walked into the dark auditorium and saw two young dancers giving an odissi recital. The beauty, grace,sensuousness and lyricism of the dance overpowered my senses. It had a tremendous aesthetic and spiritual quality, and the exquisite music was like nectar to my ravaged heart. I sat there spellbound. It was not that the dancers were young and pretty and danced well. The magic was in the dance form itself: a graceful effortlessness and a quality of ’ everlastinglessness’, even though it had very complex rhythmic patterns and sophisticated hand and eye gestures. The movement brought to mind the swaying of the palm trees, the breeze upon the water in a lake, the slow and gentle rising of the sun, the rise and fall of waves in the ocean, the quick darting and flight of insects, the sinuous grace of the snake and the gazelle. In short, it was the very breath of life.‘
—  Timepass, the memoirs of Protima Bedi

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