lost in translation?

The Pushpanjali and Andal Charitram were beautiful today. The stage was brilliant...red background, dimmed light, bits of flower petals on the floor.
I've read "Tiruppavai - a fact that I regret for having read it in translation - the dancers translated it better than what the book did for me. I guess you never know what you lose in translation. Learning Tamil has worked its way silently back to the top of my list of things to do. I always thought it a show-off when one cries during a performance - to let people know that you understand, that you're cultured, that you're moved. Well, today was my first time. Apparently I'm forced to do away with my scepticism.
Chennai is still new, still surprises me with something every day, even after eighteen months. One thing that makes it beautiful is, you can always lose yourself in Chennai...poetry reading, drama, dance performances, music recitals...
It thrills me sometimes too, to find that I'm not always lost in translation...people have wonderful ways to communicate sans language.