Monday, May 2, 2022

Dance Like a Man! (Inspired by the play with same name, written by Mahesh Dattani )

My first memory of dance!


Its been almost 22 years now since I started dancing. I remember those walks to my dance class which was about a kilometer away but the ups and downs of the roads defined the journey more than its distance! I only have good memories with my first teacher as she was a very gentle lady who was always smiling,  it was not a very crowded class and I was also not being judged for my talent yet perhaps, but I can feel the echoes of those classes, it still feels dark and hollow somehow. It was just a classroom of a very small school near Gayathrinagar, could never compete with todays studios. All the items I learnt were my mom's favorites.


One class I remember very specifically is when two older girls who were learning in my class were talking to themselves and giggling at me, I became curious and amused at that, I hadnt got so much attention from a non-family member ever. They secretely took me to the adjascent room, cajoling my mother to wait....to tie me raakhis. It was even more celebratory for me because I had no girl siblings and I have always wanted one, always imagined I could emotionally bond more with a sister.


Fever Gone.


I remember very strikingly, during my high school days, I had fever and cold and had procrastinated about attending that day's dance class all the way from school to my class but somehow made up my mind to not miss it, after an intense session that day, for the first time in my life I realised with some intense physical activity, cold and fever could be cured. However they came back even more stronger next day.


Evenings at the station


Many months after I had quit bharathanatyam, ofcourse not informing my teachers, I used to lie to my parents just to collect fee money and ofcourse to keep them from shouting at me for quitting, my class times were spent on my favorite railway station benches with my close friend, in my dance costume. I can still feel the fear of getting caught, fear of unknown future, as I remember those evenings and write about them.


A horrible incident


It was a crowded class and many students who were not even from my class were together practicing for the annual event coming in a few days. I remember my mother beating me in front of everyone and forcing me to attend the session while I didnt want to for some reason I dont remember now.


My Junior Exam


For the first time, I was getting to show my dancing skills to outside world. I remember we had some rigorous practice sessions over the past couple of months for this day. And I was not the most appreciated student of the class, there were other girls who were more graceful. But I secretely wished and almost knew my teachers knew nothing about my talent and grit. I thought I will show everyone how talented I was in the exam. And there I was at the exam center waiting for my turn, I had practiced in the morning and my bells, which protruded till my feet were hurting. While dancing in the exam hall, my feet started bleeding, I continued dancing and I remember the examiner really appreciating me. My exam results were good but I was not the best or even close to the best in the state.


Days of a tease


My second dance teacher used to come to our house and teach. She was different than my first. She felt more like a woman who wanted to work and make money, more ambitious and who wanted to settle in life. I was not too fond of her but I didnt hate her either. This was a chance for my mother to also learn with me and a few other friends who joined our class just because she used to come home to teach. I remember learning on our big terrace which had a cement floor. There used to be big fights in our house about my mother learning to dance, my grand parents were not happy that other men could see her dance. That created another kind of fear and inferiority in me. I started fearing if my other friends who were boys saw me and my mom dance and tease me when I played cricket with them. So more than dancing itself, I used to always look around on other terraces if someone had secretly sneked in to see us dance and laugh.

No comments: