Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Chasing a dream - prologue.

Hello everyone! Wozzup? It's been a long time since I wrote anything and it feels great to be back to writing :)  I hope you all like this story. Dance has become a very important part of my life and perhaps the greatest inspiration too. Enjoy and please don't forget to leave comments! :D


"I want to be a professional dancer"

My parents gaped at me with incredulous eyes. I knew this moment would not be easy to go by. The planning for this confrontation had been underway for almost a month now. I tried to imagine all the possible reactions that this piece of news would conjure from my parents. Almost a billion different scenarios came up.

Scenario # 1

"What?! Are you out of your mind? Do you even know what you're talking about? And where did this idea come from anyway? You were dead set on doing architecture a few months ago. Everything was planned. And now this? Dance is your hobby Shruti, you can't make it your profession. It's full of risks. Where is the scope? Have you forgotten that you're living in India? Where are the avenues? The means? This is just impossible.."

So on and so forth.

Scenario # 2

Her parents looked at each other and burst into fits of laughter.

"Shruti, this is really funny but this is hardly the time for a joke..."

Scenario # 3

Her father's eyes almost popped out of their sockets and the next second, he was clutching the left side of his chest tightly. Her mom rushed to his side before he could fall down.

"Shruti, call the ambulance, NOW!"

Scenario # 4

"What? But you can hardly dance. I mean, just because you can do a few steps on Munni and Sheila doesn't mean you can become a professional dancer. Wake up and smell the coffee beta. Go study for your entrance"

And they went back to doing what they had been doing before this conversation - Her mom, watching TV and her dad, getting bored.

Scenario # 5

Her big confrontation given a royal ignore.


"How much would you earn? I mean, do dancers earn well?", asked her dad.

Now it was my turn to gawk. Was that it? Was that the only issue that I would have to face? I didn't know what to say. Lying is a nice idea but my overbearing and annoying conscience would not let me live peacefully. Money was good in the field of dance, only if you were a good enough dancer. And by 'good enough', I mean really good.

I shook my head lightly, "Um, yes dad. I mean, it's decent initially, but as I become better the money will become better too"

"How decent...exactly?"

"Uh, well, the instructors get paid around 50K per month, and you get an increment once you're in the company", I was trying to hold this conversation together, but truth to be told, I was freaking out.

"But the economics still don't beat those of architecture, do they?", my mom spoke for the first time. I really wish she hadn't, though.

"They don't mom, but it's not that bad either. Look, this is what I want to do. When I joined classes a year ago I didn't know that dance would end up becoming my passion. Maybe I just never gave it a thought before, maybe I never thought I had the talent, maybe I never thought of it as anything more than a hobby. Whatever it was, I don't know. But what I do know is that dance is where my heart lies", I finished and let out  a huge breath. I realized that my speech was nothing but babbling.

They started staring at me with that unidentifiable expression again. I hated it when they did that. It was like standing in a witness box like a defendant and waiting for the judge to announce the decision. My impatience was increasing with every passing moment and I wanted them to spit their thoughts out really fast now.

My dad finally opened his mouth, "We'll think about it", and both of them walked away.

My shoulders slumped. That was not what I had expected. Each of my scenarios ended with a definite 'yes' or 'no'. There was absolutely no room for a 'maybe'. That word was like a ticking bomb. I also suddenly realized how smart my parents had been. They could now easily persuade me to do whatever they wanted on a daily basis, all because they now had the control to swing the decision of my life in any way.

This was a disaster.

I didn't know for how long their 'thinking' session would go on, but I knew that I couldn't let my determination waver. At exactly 4 pm, my eyes darted towards my wrist watch. It was time for my class. I smiled. It was time to go back home.