''Dance''.... the verb itself signifies freedom,liberation and not surprisingly passion.Today every parents want their child to attain expertise in one or the other performing arts but with me it just happened.Clutching my 'very' long skirt in both my fists I used to swirl a few rounds in my study room and there my teacher happened to notice me.He was our guest for the day and I had no knowledge about his occupation.After a few formalities I shut my self in my own little world of colours,music,books and not to forget the occasional tunes of my anklets.These anklets were the ones who somehow inspired me to dance to my hearts content and for me dance was never a practising art or a career prospective.It was just swaying with the tunes and getting lost in a world away,very far away from melancholic reality.
My formal dancing class started on one fine Sunday afternoon.I with complete interest and attention learned all the steps he taught me.He was a great teacher and companion who not only taught me the dance steps but also taught me steps to take in this oblivious world.My love for dance turned into a passion.I used to swirl a few steps in kitchen much to the amusement of my parents and siblings.The bonding of ours over the cups of cold coffee in scorching summer,piping hot cups of tea in cold winters and learning the dance poses of ras-leela while observing the monsoon showers are etched in memory for ever not to be erased due to any malady.
With the sweet smiles came the pal of gloom when on one indolent afternoon he informed me that he has been chosen as the cultural brand ambassador of Malaysia and he is going to settle there.Tears pooled in my eyes.He wiped the lone tear that escaped my eyelids and promised me to stay in contact.That was the last glimpse of his.I was shaken to the core.I left dancing because each time I posed a pose his straightening of my wrists and fingers in perfect 'mudra,' made me remember him.I was emotionally connected to him and without his guiding presence I felt despondent.Time rolled on and I completed my studies,got a job and got married.
15 years have passed yet.It was the annual night of my 6 years daughter Namya and the moment I watched her tiny foot steps swirling in perfect synchrony to the tunes of a classical tune the dormant dancing soul in me rose from a deep slumber.I however supressed my urge to dance again forgetting all the pathos of my life.Because I was skeptical that how my husband and in-laws would react?? The few skeptical thoughts made my advancing foot slow down.
It was a holiday and I had engrossed in my gardening work.Suddenly I heard the tunes of 'ghungroos' coming from a distance.I carefully listened to the tune and realised that it was none other than my Namya who has worn my ghungroos and is swirling around the room.I smiled at her mischief of taking out my ghungroos from the purse kept at the ennobled platform of the shelf.I looked at the aluminium made ladder stacked to the shelf door and looked at my daughter who was doing poses,pirouettes and was lost in her tiny world of joys.I held her before she stumbled and fall flat on the floor.She smiled and kissed on my cheeks whispering 'Thank You Mumma,your ghungroos are too big to wear and dance.Please get me a pair of my size and I want to join the dancing classes held at my school.'I nodded in affirmation.I saw a glimpse of my child hood in her.
Randomly I took the ghungroos lying on the floor and put my foot to the tunes of 'Shiva Tandav Strotram' played on the deck.The strotram was coming for my mother-in-law's room.I swirled my feet to match the tunes of the melody forgetting my identity and the position I was in.After dancing to my heart's content for a good 20 minutes I was amazed that the dancer in me was still intact.I heaved heavily and wiped the sweat beads from my forehead.I prepared to leave the room and return to my left out work at the garden.Then I got the biggest surprise of my life.My mother-in-law accompanied by father-in-law were looking at me with shocked expressions.I felt bit shy and then I remembered that I had worn the ghungroos whose jingling sounds were enough to attract the attention of others present in close vicinity.I quickly removed them and touched them to my forehead before placing them safely in my purse.I felt short of words as to what explanation and justification to give to my in-law parents.Then my mother-in-law said -''You did a good deal of dancing.That was beautiful''. I stood fixed to ground and in an impulse gave her a tight hug.She caressed and pat my back and asked me to promise that every Sunday afternoon I would present her a show.I was elated to the core and tears threatened to spill through my eyelids.
Again after very long time I danced to my heart's content and that was a pure bliss.I just wish that if I could only see my dance teacher again and learn something more...about dance and life.
P.S.;.--The characters,scene and the story are purely fictional.Any resemblance with true life and character is completely coincidental.
My formal dancing class started on one fine Sunday afternoon.I with complete interest and attention learned all the steps he taught me.He was a great teacher and companion who not only taught me the dance steps but also taught me steps to take in this oblivious world.My love for dance turned into a passion.I used to swirl a few steps in kitchen much to the amusement of my parents and siblings.The bonding of ours over the cups of cold coffee in scorching summer,piping hot cups of tea in cold winters and learning the dance poses of ras-leela while observing the monsoon showers are etched in memory for ever not to be erased due to any malady.
With the sweet smiles came the pal of gloom when on one indolent afternoon he informed me that he has been chosen as the cultural brand ambassador of Malaysia and he is going to settle there.Tears pooled in my eyes.He wiped the lone tear that escaped my eyelids and promised me to stay in contact.That was the last glimpse of his.I was shaken to the core.I left dancing because each time I posed a pose his straightening of my wrists and fingers in perfect 'mudra,' made me remember him.I was emotionally connected to him and without his guiding presence I felt despondent.Time rolled on and I completed my studies,got a job and got married.
15 years have passed yet.It was the annual night of my 6 years daughter Namya and the moment I watched her tiny foot steps swirling in perfect synchrony to the tunes of a classical tune the dormant dancing soul in me rose from a deep slumber.I however supressed my urge to dance again forgetting all the pathos of my life.Because I was skeptical that how my husband and in-laws would react?? The few skeptical thoughts made my advancing foot slow down.
It was a holiday and I had engrossed in my gardening work.Suddenly I heard the tunes of 'ghungroos' coming from a distance.I carefully listened to the tune and realised that it was none other than my Namya who has worn my ghungroos and is swirling around the room.I smiled at her mischief of taking out my ghungroos from the purse kept at the ennobled platform of the shelf.I looked at the aluminium made ladder stacked to the shelf door and looked at my daughter who was doing poses,pirouettes and was lost in her tiny world of joys.I held her before she stumbled and fall flat on the floor.She smiled and kissed on my cheeks whispering 'Thank You Mumma,your ghungroos are too big to wear and dance.Please get me a pair of my size and I want to join the dancing classes held at my school.'I nodded in affirmation.I saw a glimpse of my child hood in her.
Randomly I took the ghungroos lying on the floor and put my foot to the tunes of 'Shiva Tandav Strotram' played on the deck.The strotram was coming for my mother-in-law's room.I swirled my feet to match the tunes of the melody forgetting my identity and the position I was in.After dancing to my heart's content for a good 20 minutes I was amazed that the dancer in me was still intact.I heaved heavily and wiped the sweat beads from my forehead.I prepared to leave the room and return to my left out work at the garden.Then I got the biggest surprise of my life.My mother-in-law accompanied by father-in-law were looking at me with shocked expressions.I felt bit shy and then I remembered that I had worn the ghungroos whose jingling sounds were enough to attract the attention of others present in close vicinity.I quickly removed them and touched them to my forehead before placing them safely in my purse.I felt short of words as to what explanation and justification to give to my in-law parents.Then my mother-in-law said -''You did a good deal of dancing.That was beautiful''. I stood fixed to ground and in an impulse gave her a tight hug.She caressed and pat my back and asked me to promise that every Sunday afternoon I would present her a show.I was elated to the core and tears threatened to spill through my eyelids.
Again after very long time I danced to my heart's content and that was a pure bliss.I just wish that if I could only see my dance teacher again and learn something more...about dance and life.
P.S.;.--The characters,scene and the story are purely fictional.Any resemblance with true life and character is completely coincidental.
nice story..nice correlation between photo and story also..maa nkar pada ati sundar...ta sangaku ghungura..basibara thani abarnaneeya..photo ti mote bahut bhal lagila...
ReplyDeletethank you for taking your precious time to read this post.its really encouraging.the photo is the only reason that this story came here.
ReplyDeletesaraswata sadhana eka mahattara sadhana..saraswata sadhak nku encourage kariparile, bahut bada katha heba ama bhali adhama pathaka mananka pain..
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