I entered the theatre, delicately balancing two coconuts in each hand. In my mouth, I held a vakathi. When the security guard stopped me for carrying a weapon, I pointed to my Mohiniyaattam costume and the mullapoo in my hair. He understood immediately. I was that exotic creature from “down South”. He waved me in, and I waited with bated breath for Param Sundari to unfold on the big screen.
This is how unicorns would feel when watching a movie about unicorns, I thought.
