In the dark pools of Govinda's eyes gold flecks shimmer like fish scales. "Is that a yes?"

I stop short, feeling suddenly shy. "Yes."

"Akka has a carpeted study she sometimes lets older students use.

If we met there, we wouldn't have to worry about you falling on a hard floor.

I'll ask her if we can use it and call to schedule a lesson, okay?"

Govinda actually worries about me hurting myself.

I wish my leg would let me twirl with joy.

"Your parents don't have a problem with boys calling, do they?"

"No," I say, though I don't actually know.

I've never given a boy my number before.

He couldn't like me.

Could he?

A PARTIAL VICTORY.

Alone in akka's carpeted study with me, Govinda chants aloud, "Thath thai thaam, dhith thai thaam,"

and I try to lunge, lurch like a drunkard but manage to hold my ground.

"Almost!" Govinda says.

I stamp my foot in frustration.

"Almost means nothing.

A partial victory is a complete defeat."

"Are you dancing or fighting a war?"

Govinda gives me one of his rare smiles.

If he's trying to be funny, he's failing.

"I'm used to winning over my body.

Now I'm always losing to it."

My tone wipes the grin off Govinda's face.

"Dance isn't about winning or losing," he says, "it's about enjoying how your body moves."

I kick my right leg out so ferociously I almost lose balance.

"This isn't my body."

"We all ch.o.r.eograph to our strengths, Veda.

The audience won't see what you don't show them."

"I don't want to be a good handicapped dancer.

I want to be a good dancer," I shout.

"You think akka's body has no limitations?" Govinda shouts back.

"You think because she's older and less flexible she's not as good a dancer anymore?

Being a good dancer is more than mastering every pose there is."

"We're not talking about every pose there is.

Because of my leg, some poses are off limits.

Entirely.

So I must master everything else that's possible.

Can't you see that?"

"Some dancers thrill audiences with exotic poses and excessive speed.

I think you should care more about entering people's hearts and elevating their souls than about entertaining their minds.

I think you should start getting over your obsession with what you can or can't do physically.

Bharatanatyam dance is not just about perfecting your body's skills."

Govinda sits down and taps out the rhythm using his block and stick.

Govinda's words wound me more deeply than when Kamini said my dance wasn't spiritual enough after I won the compet.i.tion.

We don't speak for the rest of the hour.

I try twisting in the full-sitting pose and leaping into a lunge, try and fail, fail many times, fail spectacularly.

My only accomplishment, when I leave cla.s.s: I've fought so hard with Govinda, I've had no time to think of being embarra.s.sed about Jim.

AS MANY.

Perfect Poses

AS PEOPLE.

"Govinda doesn't understand me!" I complain to Paati.

"He wants me to skip every pose that's hard instead of helping me perfect them.

He wants me to skirt hurdles, not leap over them."

In answer, Paati tells me a story.

"The sage Vyasa once climbed the snowy peaks of the Himalayas, where Shiva lives.

Eager to perfect every yoga pose, Vyasa asked Him, *How many yoga asanas are there?

I wish to master every pose so I can be the best yogi of all time.'

Shiva replied, *There are as many perfect poses as there are people.'

And Vyasa understood that yoga is about embracing the uniqueness within.

Shiva sees perfection in every sincere effort.

He loves us despite-or maybe because of- our differences."

ONLY.

Temporarily

ABLE.

At the Java Joy cafe, Chandra jabs her spoon at me.

"How are your private dance lessons going?

Have you been flirting with your dance-teacher boy?"

I choke, scorching the roof of my mouth.

Chandra pats my back until I stop spluttering.

"Flirt? Me? I'm useless with guys.

I blurt out idiotic things in front of them.

Or get angry and push them away."

"You and Govinda fought?

About what?"

"Govinda insisted everyone has limits and even able-bodied dancers get old and inflexible.

I got mad because I'm young and inflexible."

Telling Chandra what Govinda said, I realize he wasn't being unreasonable.

On the TV screen, I see Shastri, whom Ma and Pa said was the "baby" of the national cricket team when they were young.