Hobbies as a Radical Act of Reclamation: Sanjana's Story

Sanjana Shankar has a theory about hobbies: adults should have more of them. Things you do simply because you enjoy doing them.

“I think my mom was really on to something when she enrolled me in every new after-school activity in the neighbourhood,” she says.

Karate. Carnatic music. Art class. Athletics. Dance. There was always another class after school, another thing to try, another little corner of the world to explore. “For years, maybe over a decade, I was a beginner somewhere. Learning new things was the norm.”

Five different after-school activities, school, friends, and somehow a childhood that still had room for all of it. “Come to think of it, it was actually uncommon not to have hobbies.”

Then adulthood happened. Somewhere along the way, the five activities became one routine: wake up, get ready, go to work, work, come home, eat while watching something, scroll, sleep.

And repeat. “The world feels like it has been set up in a way where energy is a privilege. One that very few get to have.”

In adulthood, decisions on where you invest your time were tied to a reason - an achievement, a goal, or "because it is useful."

So much so that, Sanjana thinks, having hobbies almost feels like an act of rebellion. Dance is her sustained act of rebellion and reclamation - something she does to "keep the curious little girl in her alive". And she takes it very seriously.

Becoming A Dancer

Like most of her hobbies, a dance class was something she was put into. If one class shut down, her parents found another. She tried freestyle, Bollywood, Bharatanatyam - whatever was available, whatever her friends were doing, whatever happened to be convenient.

“For as long as I can remember, I have been part of some dance class or the other,” she says. “When I was really young, it really wasn't the dance that was exciting. It was the community around it.”

Sanjana encountered belly dance in much the same way she had encountered everything else: because it happened to be there. She was in seventh standard when she saw girls performing at a studio near her apartment. They looked “very cool" - she immediately wanted to try it.

She began with Tribal Fusion because that was the style available to her. “I started with Tribal Fusion, not because I loved it. It’s because it was the only style that was available.”

However, the more she danced, the more something changed. Her teacher, Bindu, was different from the teachers she had encountered before. For the first time, Sanjana felt she was with someone who was genuinely invested in the growth of her students. There was structure to the learning, a foundation to build upon. Dance was no longer just about pleasure or being part of a group. As she grew, she also became more discerning - "okay this is what I like, this is what I dont like."

She stayed with it through school, alongside Kathak, which she began learning later. By the time the pandemic arrived, she had two dance forms that she genuinely loved.

And then she saw Debapriya dance.

Falling into Deba's world

Sanjana first saw Debapriya perform at one of Bindu's shows. She was sitting on the ground with Madhu when they looked at the stage and thought, essentially: Oh my God. Who is she? She's so good.

When the pandemic hit and Debapriya began offering classes, Sanjana didn't need much convincing.

She messaged Madhu: “I don’t care what you say, we have to join her classes. I want to do it. So obviously you're doing it with me too.”

There was no looking back after they "fell into Deba's world."

https://youtu.be/dtcfGG2b2Ys?si=QhGrVO6uVHopI0Co

Sanjana had done countless dance classes. Debapriya's classes had all of what those classes offered, but they also demanded something more. “I have done a million and one classes, but nothing has been as substantial in terms of the knowledge, in terms of the training, in terms of the care to the individual as I felt in her class.”

For Sanjana, this was the first hobby that really asked something of her: time, energy, commitment, discipline. Nobody was casually waking up at 6 AM for a hobby. Except, apparently, her.

The Inconvenience of Doing Something Just for Yourself

On most days, Sanjana is up at 6 AM. There is a 45-minute drive to the studio, training until she's drained, and then another hour getting home through Bangalore traffic. Weekends aren't exempt.

While everyone else is staying up late on Friday night, she might be thinking about getting to bed by 11 so she can get enough sleep before morning class. If you look at it objectively, the whole thing is rather inconvenient.

Dance isn't her career. And yet she has rearranged her life around it. It isn't even particularly part of her social media identity. She barely posts about it.

“Dance checks none of those things,” she says.

Sanjana has done pottery, painting, athletics and other things seriously before. But dance is the first hobby that has demanded this level of sustained commitment without promising a conventional reward at the end. “I do it purely for the now rather than the end goal, which is so rare, because anything else I do in my life, when it comes to work or career, it's always backtracking from an end goal. But with hobbies, I tend to not do that, which is very liberating in a sense. That's why I feel like it's a very cherished ritual.”

Dance offers something more intangible. "Just the way that I think about my body has changed so much. Little things here really pushed me to become more disciplined, like the strength training that's required to be a dancer. I think I'm the fittest that I have ever been in my life. I think being disciplined about something that's not going to impact your revenue or your career really tells you a lot about yourself."

Immersing in the Nrityakosh Company

“I’m not a big fan of a touch-and-go method,” she says. “If I am going to take up something, I’m going to really immerse myself in the world because I think that is the only way that you can really appreciate it for what it is.”

The Nrityakosh Company gives her that deeper immersion. To live inside the story of a production for months, to create with other dancers and the chaos that happens along the way.

There are stressful weeks when nobody remembers what they are supposed to be doing. There are moments when everyone is exhausted and overwhelmed. And then, suddenly, someone does something ridiculous and the entire room bursts into laughter. Those are some of her favourite moments. “They’re very genuine, very raw, very fun,” she says.

There are also the tiny rituals: the things people bring to class, the ways they cope with an approaching performance season, the habits that gradually become part of a group’s shared language. Things an audience never sees - but are what make a company feel like a community.

As someone who works largely from home, Sanjana spends much of her professional life on Zoom calls. There is collaboration, but little of the physical togetherness that comes from working towards something in the same room. “I think the last time I worked with a bunch of people towards a common goal was probably college,” she says. "And without the company, I wouldn't really have that. So not only does it give me the space to go deeper and get closer to dance through the company, but I also get to work with people towards a shared goal. And a shared goal that isn't tied to a tangible outcome - it is purely for the love of creation."

"Just Do It"

For someone who had spent much of her life happily dancing in groups, being asked to step into the spotlight was another story.

When Debapriya once asked who wanted to be a soloist, Sanjana did not raise her hand. She was perfectly comfortable where she was. A solo felt like something meant for “super professional dancers,” not for her. She had no interest in putting herself under that kind of spotlight.

https://youtu.be/P-iVF1Q-kww?si=t3Dl9afMGI0rFyGX

Then came Parikrama - a lecture-demonstration where every dancer had to perform a solo and choreograph it themselves. For Sanjana, this was close to a nightmare.

“As a Choreographer, you tell me what to do, correct me while I’m doing it, I will be great at doing it,” she jokes. “But ask me to create something from scratch for dance…”

There was nowhere to hide in a self-choreographed solo. All eyes were on her creation and then, something shifted. “I got a little bit more comfortable with actually having the spotlight on me. And I was like, Oh, I kind of do enjoy it. It is really nice.”

The same thing happened with teaching. She had never imagined herself taking a workshop. Then Debapriya suggested it. Sanjana discovered that she enjoyed that too.

https://youtu.be/YqJt3F-aZJc?si=oePg71kfbz4r77KA

Again and again, Deba’s role has been less about telling Sanjana who she should become and more about inviting her to try the things she didn't think were for her. "She kind of just makes it not that scary. She's like, just do it. If you do it, then you either do it or you won't do it. And then it doesn't matter at the end of the day. So in that way, I think she's really pushed me outside of my comfort zone, because I think it really comes from a place of care for the individual that's in front of her, which I really, really like. And that's the biggest reason I'm part of this as well."

Sanjana reflects that it has reached a point where she is open to new experiences, that she has been empowered by Debapriya and the Nrityakosh Company to say yes to opportunities that come her way.

Finding Her Own Style

Sanjana’s understanding of belly dance has changed along with her understanding of herself.

She began with Tribal Fusion when she was younger and she was drawn to Indian Fusion because it combined the two worlds she really liked. Now, her love is Modern Oriental.

https://youtu.be/9D5JUvduD4U?si=fkHM5krrJrABAlEc

She believes every person has a body that suits a particular kind of style under the vast umbrella of belly dance. "And that's also been really nice to see within the company as well, because everyone has very different strengths. And it's also been nice to see, okay, what are someone's strengths? And how are they developing that strength? Why is that strength so visible in a specific person versus me? So that's been really nice to just know that different people fall into different categories. And for me, I think it is a modern Oriental -  love the music, I love the body. I also think it sits really well in my body."

Beyond the End Goal

There is a particular kind of seriousness in Sanjana’s relationship with dance. It is not the seriousness of someone trying to become a professional dancer. In fact, she deliberately avoids the term.

She does not want the label to introduce a hierarchy or implications she does not need. “I know what my relationship with dance is, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Instead, she thinks of herself simply as someone who trains and performs.

Because Sanjana’s dance journey is about becoming more deeply herself through the things she chooses to do. "I've chosen a line of work where I have a lot of control over my schedule. And because I have that privilege, I want to make sure that I'm able to go back to what I truly was, before I became an adult, which is multidisciplinary, truly being creative, doing things just for the love of doing things, doing things, because it gives you a community, doing things because you can't be defined by one single thing."

In a life increasingly organised around what something will eventually become, there is something quietly radical about choosing to do something simply because it "keeps the curious little girl in her alive."