Nandana Krishna Soumya
I decided to try an experiment. I started practicing what I call "The Intentional Pause."
It’s a simple concept. Before I start a new task, I take sixty seconds to just sit. No phone. No music. Just me and my thoughts. I ask myself: What is my intention for this next hour? How do I want to feel when it’s done?
The results were surprising.
When I stopped rushing, the quality of my work improved. When I stopped reacting to every notification, my anxiety dropped. By inserting small gaps of silence into my day, I found the mental space to actually think clearly.
By Nandana Krishna Soumya
Have you ever reached the end of a busy day, exhausted and ready to sleep, only to realize you can’t actually remember what you did? You were busy, sure. You were running from one task to the next, answering emails, checking notifications, and ticking boxes. But did you actually live that day?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. We live in a culture that glorifies "the grind." We wear our burnout like a badge of honor. If we aren't stressed, we feel like we aren't doing enough.
But recently, I’ve started to challenge that narrative. I’ve realized that true productivity isn't about how fast you run; it's about knowing why you are running in the first place.
Talent recognition came early for Nandana. By the age of 22, she had already secured several titles: nandana krishna soumya
Her most recent production, "Sthree: The Eternal Shakti," is a 90-minute solo performance that traverses the lives of Draupadi, Meera, and a modern-day woman. The show sold out in Bangalore, Mumbai, and Singapore.
To understand Nandana Krishna Soumya, one must first look at her roots. Born into a family with a profound appreciation for the Carnatic arts, Nandana was exposed to rhythm (laya) and melody (raga) before she could form complete sentences. Unlike many child prodigies who are pushed into dance, Nandana’s initiation into Bharatanatyam was a natural progression of her household’s daily life.
She began her formal training under the tutelage of renowned gurus in Kerala, before moving to Chennai—the heartbeat of South Indian classical arts. Critics and early mentors noted that Nandana possessed a rare combination: the fiery footwork (nritta) required for Bharatanatyam and the languid, graceful eye movements (netra abhinaya) essential for Mohiniyattam.
It is this duality that sets Nandana Krishna Soumya apart from her contemporaries. While many dancers specialize in one style, Nandana is a master of two diametrically opposite disciplines: the geometric, straight-line poses of Bharatanatyam and the circular, wave-like movements of Mohiniyattam. I decided to try an experiment
Together, Nandana Krishna Soumya poetically translates to “The delightful, gentle one belonging to Krishna” – a name imbued with devotion, grace, and artistic sensitivity.
No serious artist escapes critique, and Nandana Krishna Soumya has faced her share. Purists argue that her fusion experiments "dilute" the rigor of the classical form. Notably, a 2021 performance where she danced to a loop pedal and electronic beats caused a walkout by several orthodox critics at the Thyagaraja Aradhana.
Nandana’s response was characteristically graceful: "If the grammar of the dance remains pure, the percussion can be a mridangam or a drum machine. The soul is still Indian."
This stance has made her a polarizing figure—loved by progressive, young audiences and viewed with skepticism by the old guard. Regardless of which side one falls on, it is undeniable that she has sparked a necessary conversation about the evolution of classical art. Her most recent production, "Sthree: The Eternal Shakti,"