The Bohemian Storyteller

The Bohemian Storyteller Visual Stories crafted with Soul, Creativity and Love!

Culture. Identity. Belonging.Three words that have built my inner world, thread by thread.Growing up Tamil in Nagpur’s M...
05/10/2025

Culture. Identity. Belonging.
Three words that have built my inner world, thread by thread.

Growing up Tamil in Nagpur’s Marathi heartland, with Bengali neighbours who fed me mishti doi and love in equal measure, I learned early that identity isn’t inherited. It’s absorbed.

From sabudana khichdi followed by kheer kadam, alta on my hands before dance class, Roy Uncle calling me “Toopli,” and Pujo pandals echoing with the sound of dhaak, I didn’t just learn Bengali, I learned belonging.

Years later, in Basel, it’s the same melody.. anjalis, bhog, roshmolai, tant saree brought by friends, shakha-pola gifted with prayers. Each moment, a reminder that belonging isn’t where you’re born. It’s where you’re embraced.

Today, at my first Sindoor Khela, it all came together.
An identity that had waited patiently to come alive.
Main character energy, red and radiant.

Maa, continue to bless me with the strength to hold many identities in one heart.
Dugga Dugga. ❤️

या देवी सर्वभूतेशु शक्तिरूपेण संस्थितःनमस्तस्यै नमस्तस्यै नमस्तस्यै नमो नमः ।।
29/09/2025

या देवी सर्वभूतेशु
शक्तिरूपेण संस्थितः
नमस्तस्यै नमस्तस्यै नमस्तस्यै नमो नमः ।।

I grew up with the marigold.In Nagpur, a little town in Maharashtra that felt more like an extended courtyard than a cit...
03/09/2025

I grew up with the marigold.

In Nagpur, a little town in Maharashtra that felt more like an extended courtyard than a city, the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” wasn’t a proverb… it was simply how we lived. You were raised by aunties, neighbors, the milkman, even the local vegetable vendor. And you were raised by flowers.

Every puja had its chosen bloom…
gentle parijat for Lord Shiva,
a bold red hibiscus for Ganesha,
a pristine white mogra for Saraswati,
velvet roses for Laxmi.

And then there was the marigold.
Everyone’s flower, yet no one’s in particular.

It didn’t demand special care or claim supremacy. It just arrived in season, flooding every lane and garden during chaturmaas, when our calendar brimmed with Ganeshotsav, Navaratri, Laxmi Puja.

It was the garland on temple doors, the backdrop of weddings, the cheapest bloom sold in kilos, and even the companion on funeral pyres. The marigold belonged everywhere.

What it taught me is simple, yet timeless…
you don’t need to be rare to be precious,
you don’t have to be exotic to hold meaning,
you can hold both joy and grief without losing yourself,
and true beauty is in showing up again and again, steady and unpretentious.

Perhaps that’s why I carry it with me still. Not just as a flower, but as a rhythm of living… consistent, humble, deeply present.

And so, here in Switzerland, I grow marigolds with care. Each bloom a piece of home, a fragment of Nagpur soil, another thread of Indian heritage I choose to nurture.

In a world obsessed with exotic flowers, I choose to be a marigold.

एक विषाद सी चल रही है ज़िंदगीबेबस नहीं, बेचैन शायद।आकाश के सुनहरे रंग कभी केसरिया, कुछ नील, कुछ गुलाबी,बस ये जताते रहते ...
21/07/2025

एक विषाद सी चल रही है ज़िंदगी
बेबस नहीं, बेचैन शायद।

आकाश के सुनहरे रंग
कभी केसरिया, कुछ नील, कुछ गुलाबी,
बस ये जताते रहते हैं कि
ठहराव के अनेक रंग होते हैं..

क्षणभंगुर।

बस थोड़ी श्रद्धा और कुछ सबूरी रख लो,
इन्द्रधनुष तुम्हारा है।

Movement. Embodiment. Authentic Presence.These are not just buzzwords. For me, they have been the most potent tools for ...
24/06/2025

Movement. Embodiment. Authentic Presence.
These are not just buzzwords.
For me, they have been the most potent tools for healing, leadership, and rediscovering myself.

For nearly two years now, I’ve been teaching Bollywood dance classes at the Roche Sports Club. The one red thread across multiple batches and a spectrum of students is,
the MAGIC that happens when people reconnect with their bodies and stories through rhythm and movement.

This experience has gone far beyond just a class I lead.
It has become a safe bubble, a sacred space I return to each week.
A tool to honour my connection with movement and dance.

As a trained Indian classical dancer, I was once denied, yes, denied, opportunities to perform on stage because of how I looked.
This was long before the body positivity movement gained prominence.
And yet... movement and rhythm never left me.
It waited patiently until I was ready to return.

Now, I hold space for people from cultures that have never experienced Bollywood dancing before.

As an instructor, facilitator, and co-journeyer, I thrive on bringing every beat, every expression, and every explanation of lyrics and mudras as an act of reclamation. And as a bridge between worlds.

As this journey unfolded, I have witnessed -

💃 Men reconnecting with their sensual side
💃 Women with knee replacements and recovering from injuries swaying with pride
💃 Multicultural women rediscovering their Indian roots
💃 A student who told me, “The two of us have loved dancing with you,” as she revealed her pregnancy.

These moments, tender and soul-shifting, healed parts of me that years of therapy couldn’t touch.

These are not just anecdotes.
They are transformations, mine and theirs.
This isn’t just about dance. It’s about safety.
Expression. Body autonomy. Joy.

As we wrap up before the summer break, I’m filled with gratitude.
To every student who showed up, leaned in, laughed, learned, and danced beside me...
THANK YOU!

You helped me remember who I am.
Not just a dancer. Not just a teacher.
A witness. A storyteller. A holder of rhythm and reinvention.
You’ve helped me rediscover parts of me that had been dormant for far too long.

There was a woman I once called a friend.We broke bread together.Laughed in each other’s homes.Had space in each other’s...
03/06/2025

There was a woman I once called a friend.
We broke bread together.
Laughed in each other’s homes.
Had space in each other’s lives.

But over time, I began to notice the patterns…
the subtle digs, the whispers behind closed doors,
the way she asked for my thoughts
and handed them over to others
without consent or context.

Still, I stayed.
Because I trusted too deeply.
I made excuses for her..
she’s younger, maybe not as emotionally aware.
Or maybe I just wanted to be liked.

Until one day,
I learned she wasn’t just sowing seeds of doubt in private.
She was spinning stories.. ugly, absurd ones.
Character assassinating casually.

That moment?
It was equal parts laughable and sobering.
Because when people can invent betrayal,
they’ve long abandoned integrity.

This isn’t just about one person.
You’ll meet such characters in many places…
in offices, circles, communities.
People who smile at you while pulling strings behind your back.
People who take your softness as weakness.
Who mistake your silence for submission.

I want to tell you as I remind myself.
It’s not your fault that you trusted.
But it is your responsibility to discern.

Watch who shows up when it’s inconvenient.
Who speaks up for you when you’re not in the room.
Who refuses to spread poison, even when offered the cup.

Integrity isn’t a buzzword.
It’s a value system.
And in a world built on speed, performance, and image,
it may be the last real thing we get to choose for ourselves.

Hold it close.
Even if you’re the only one.

~ The Bohemian Storyteller

Thoughtfulness is a frequency. Not everyone will tune in.Not everyone will notice the way you remember how they take the...
01/06/2025

Thoughtfulness is a frequency.

Not everyone will tune in.
Not everyone will notice the way you remember how they take their tea,
send a message on a hard day,
or show up when the room falls silent.

But just because it’s not returned,
doesn’t mean it’s misplaced.

Thoughtfulness isn’t a transaction.
It’s a vibration.
And the ones meant for you will feel it like music.

You’ve been told it’s naïve.
That the world doesn’t operate that way.
That giving too much will burn you.

But the truth is that,
In a world where most people are rushing,
forgetting,
taking…
💫 You pause.
💫 You witness.
💫 You give a damn.

That’s rare.
And wildly needed.

Don’t let the unready convince you to harden.

~ The Bohemian Storyteller

In the past couple of months, two people I care about told me,“Don’t take this personally. I’m stepping back. I need to ...
29/05/2025

In the past couple of months, two people I care about told me,
“Don’t take this personally. I’m stepping back. I need to go contactless and inward for a while.”

And even though they said it wasn’t about me,
my first instinct was to think,
What did I do wrong?
Did I fail them in some way?
Was I not enough? Was I too much?

I had to take a few breaths.
Sit with the silence.
And remind myself,
It’s not always about me.

Sometimes, people are simply trying to find themselves.
Sometimes, space is an act of self-preservation,
not rejection.

And I get it.
Because I’ve been there too.
I’ve walked through dark, disorienting seasons where even answering a message felt impossible.
I’ve disappeared without explanation when I didn’t have the words.
And maybe, some of my own relationships unraveled because I couldn’t say,
“I love you, but I need to be alone right now.”

So now, I try to do better.
I try to honour other people’s need for space
without spiraling, without resentment.
I try to offer grace,
because I know what it means to need it.

And I hope…
That when my time comes to retreat,
when my own soul needs silence,
I’ll be met with the same grace I’ve given.
The same space.
The same understanding.

Because sometimes,
distance isn’t disconnection.
It’s just healing.

And we all deserve that.

~ The Bohemian Storyteller

Let yourself take up space.With your voice, your joy, your grief, your grace.Let yourself stop shrinking for rooms too s...
26/05/2025

Let yourself take up space.
With your voice, your joy, your grief, your grace.
Let yourself stop shrinking for rooms too small for your brilliance.
Let yourself say no, not today.
Let yourself say yes, even if it scares you.
Let yourself be a masterpiece and a work-in-progress at the same time.

Let yourself choose you, again, and again, and again.

~ The Bohemian Storyteller

Let yourself rest.When the world wants you running.Let yourself stop holding what was never yours to carry.Let yourself ...
24/05/2025

Let yourself rest.
When the world wants you running.
Let yourself stop holding what was never yours to carry.
Let yourself love the quiet days, the ordinary days, the nothing-special days.
Let yourself leave unfinished what no longer deserves your energy.
Let yourself be enough here, exactly as you are.

Let yourself exhale.

~ The Bohemian Storyteller

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