tha ki ta, tha ka dhi mi

When we (sis and me) were taken to NADAM ( National Academy for Dance and Music), I had already been introduced to the basics of Bharatnatyam through Amma who had taught us the baby steps. I stepped into the dance room with big dreams that I would leave the hall as a great dancer.

 The rectangular shaped  big hall, dimly lit with a yellow glow, the veenas that lined the side of the wall and the sandalwood incense welcomed us into a world that I still very much want to be a part of.
The initial days were good because the steps ( thattadavus) didn't physically drain us out. As days and months passed, the steps demanded more effort and it turned worse when our dance teacher suddenly lost her charm and donned a serious demeanour. My legs swelled up and it became a big ordeal to go for the dance classes especially in the lazy after-lunch Saturday and Sunday hours. The saddest part was that we were scolded more if we missed out on classes. Leg pain and muscle cramps didn't bother our teacher who proudly lectured us on how she performed dance recitals being fully pregnant with her child  and days after she had her baby delivered. That was our dance teacher! She made  'us and our silly aches' stand small in front of her epic anecdotes. She narrated the story ( her pre-delivery and post delivery performances) as though it happened sequentially in a single dance recital. I don't know if she'd made up that story but she was a strong woman and didn't tolerate laziness.

Thanks to Appa's determination, he always managed to get us out of our homes, come rain or sunshine, and made sure that we reached NADAM at 2 pm on Saturdays and Sundays.

I remember not giving in to the pain that my leg caused, and dancing to the beats of Shobha Ramachandran. And all of a sudden, without even me coming to think about it, dance became a passion. Suddenly dance was all I could think of and I no more considered it a headache but waited eagerly for the weekends and practiced all through the week with great joy. Dance taught me lessons that academics didn't  and I realised that with good practice and hardwork we could achieve skills that we never thought we would! And that we should never give up when the going gets tough and when we feel that we can't take it any longer. That is the critical point that becomes many a time the turning point in one's life.

Soon I got into the good books of our teacher . Irene hadn't developed a passion for dance back then and I remember her saying that it is her father's insistence that had bought her to the dance class and not hers when the teacher questioned her on the lack of practice. This time, it was the teacher who was left speechless by my sister's smart reply!
Time flew and both of us performed at the temple, marking the beginning of a lifelong love for dance. But we couldn't study further as the institute had to close down all of a sudden. We mourned its fate. My dance pursuit stopped there but Irene took it forward when she joined afresh many years later. Today, I feel proud that the little smart girl who didn't fancy the Bharatnatyam steps has gone far ahead of me and carries a stronger passion for the art form now, than I do.

I know it's never too late and I promise myself that I would also follow my sister's path and rekindle the spark  I, once had kept so alive in my heart.

I could give my life to dance like Shobhana!