As the minutes ticked by – 10, 20, 30, 40 – Anjali's energy and passion only grew stronger. Her dance was a journey through the emotions and stories of Indian mythology, and the audience was completely absorbed in it.

She began softly. “When I was nine,” she said, “my grandmother taught me how to make laddoos. Her hands moved like music — folding, rolling, pressing — and she hummed a song I didn’t understand. Back then our tiny kitchen smelled of cardamom and hope. I watched her with the belief that she could fix anything.”

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