'Action!' shouts our director.  Cameras and lighting are all to his satisfaction.

'Take 3 - Arjuna the dancer'.  

 A touch of exasperation in his tone. Nearly lunchtime, the film-crew are sweating and starving.

I think of all the folk-theatre troupes bringing Mahabharata to the villages, performances under moonlight, magically bringing Arjuna to life, bring the magic of Arjuna to humdrum lives. And a bit of light-relief too!

I adjust my ample Brihannala bra and mince into the 21st century limelight.  

It is a crucial scene -  Arjuna can handle the feminine arts as well as he can wield weaponry; his manhood is not threatened by having to guise himself as a woman or even eunuch.  Able to handle any role, like his brothers and beloved wife in exile, in disguise of humble roles.  It takes a true royalty to be able to handle that, I think.

The titter of the make-up ladies - their deft expertise - has stopped me  from bristling up in irritation, at having to drag myself yet again to perform that scene in Virat Parva.

Nritta

I have to demonstrate what I mean by nritta via some dance steps to teenage princess Uttaraa - abstract, fast, rhythmic. 

Now the young actress understands - there is now no false in my falsetto ...or my falsies. 

I have got it, got the message. Step by step. Skill in action.

 Krshna in the actor, lolling on his star chair, taps his toe in affirmative. 

Nritya

Uttara and I slow dance into the next phase - communicating through mudras, inviting a soulful mood of reflection, introspection in ourselves, in the viewers, the audience glued to their screens and more significantly to Krishnaa my beloved wife, queen disguised as queen's maid - just as I and my brothers are, forced to go under-cover.

I get the thumbs up [now that I have toed the line, haha] from my co-star Krshna. 

Natyam

Uttara and I exchange relieved smiles, relieved to be able to wipe-off the make-up and the make-believe. 

We have acted our parts, learned from the characters we portray - the mature learning to adapt to new roles, the immature learning the traditional art of living. 

Most importantly this natyam - of the everyday life, of the epic is an ensemble of different selves in one play, Lila.

As we leave the set, we feel sad knowing what the character of young Uttara will have to face in the future, even as we laugh at how well I portrayed Arjuna with such delicacy. 

War or dance.

Ananda Tandava...

Krshna in the act is smiling. The shoot is over, for today. 'Cut!' phews the director.

The War Dance advances.