Mine has turned into another face as well. Has my mom made me new by making me wear blossoms and glass bangles? Do they make a huge difference? It was the occupation of moms wherever to make things new, and to do this, they made themselves over again as well. Here, my face, my body, my appearance — everything has become new. Isn’t this what I want to become a mother? I want to fear provided that I am among known faces and in known places. I’d must be frightened about what could occur, what individuals could say. Have I at any point had the option to do anything simply the manner in which I have wanted to? There has forever been the apprehension that somebody natural could risk upon me. Everybody is here. And furthermore nobody. She was overwhelmed with a colossal positive feeling. When her apprehension lessened, she saw all that with an open-minded perspective. Everything was new to her. At the point when she understood how drawn in she was by the excitement of freshness, she saw that she was remaining close to the wheel of the chariot. That’s what she felt, very much like the wheel of the chariot, she had deserted what she was familiar with and was standing immovably in what was new.
She wanted to run and hop in the midst of the group. She needed to detonate into chuckling. Nothing remained to be halted her here. She could do anything she needed to. She longed to see the entire of Tiruchengode in one long run. Be that as it may, she ought to control herself. She figured she could not ingest anything assuming that she lost her equilibrium. There were four ways before her. The forty-pillared corridor was toward the west of the chariot. Furthermore, when she went past that, she could see the sanctuary at the lower regions, looking as though it was remaining with its arms outstretched. Around this were the sanctuary roads. These then expanded into various roads and prompted the different streets. God almighty! The number of ways she that could take! On the roads fanning out the ones lining the sanctuary, there were a few pillared corridors where dance and music exhibitions were occurring. From where she stood, she could hear them faintly.
The east chariot road had two ways out, one each on its north and south closures. Furthermore, halfway between these, there was a presentation going on. Toward the east of the chariot was another road that ran directly to the foundation of the slope and afterward around it. She was unable to choose which way to take. In any case, she was glad at the sheer number of choices she had! Without leaping to a choice right away, she enjoyed that joy of basically having choices. Then, automatically, she strolled toward the south. Did her feet pick this heading since it was the most jam-packed there? Was it the group that was directing her? At the point when she strolled past the more modest chariots that had been positioned in succession, she saw that a dance occasion was in the works at the intersection of four roads. In a space encompassed by fire lights, in excess of ten young fellows were hitting the dance floor with sticks in their grasp.
From the focal point of the wide space got in the center free from the group, which was presently remaining all around, she heard the sound of sticks conflicting against each other — an impeccably organized, restrained sound. A portion of individuals in the main column of the circle were situated. Every one of the young fellows moving had tied their braids in a similar style. At the point when they jumped up in the air, their dhotis, which they had affixed by bringing the material from between their legs and wrapping it up at the back, seemed to slacken. Ponna thought about what kind of bunch was holding the dhotis set up. There weren’t numerous ladies in the group. She could see just a few elderly people ladies and young ladies sitting about. Among those waiting around the artists, all she found were a couple of ladies specking the group like stones in a plate of rice.
They were standing right behind the people who were situated, the best spot to see the dance from. Ponna felt that she could observe perpetually the manner in which the braids of the moving men bobbed up and returned to their scruffs; every one of the men had firmly brushed back his hair, securing it into a bunch at the scruff. She preferred the manner in which they worked their sticks, some of the time isolated as two groups, and at different times as one, yet continuously passing on adequate room for the sticks to conflict, continuously doing it without the least dissonance. It seemed like the thump of the sticks was hitting open the bunches to her. This dance was not just about sticks conflicting. It was not simply simple battle. It was the play of enchantment wands which aired out exteriors to bring out secret insider facts. She shut her eyes.