Chasing a Dream - Part 1

"Plea, passe, kick, passe again, and then you put the foot down"

Our dance instructor, Shweta, yelled as she walked around the class, observing everyone like a hawk. I love our instructor, she had acquired the perfect balance in every aspect of teaching - strict yet understanding, funny yet serious, confident yet humble. She's also very inspiring. At the age of 23, she left her high flying job as the HR manager in an MNC to pursue dancing.

Yet, she scares me to death.

I checked my feet again to see if they're in parallel, if my legs were in a proper plea and if my passe looked messy as she came around behind me. I know we learn slowly, and perfection cannot be attained overnight, but the adamant part of my brain always orders me to be overly harsh on myself. Especially when my instructor is around. Especially because, she's the one whose going to promote me to the next level. 

We were doing a lyrical jazz routine this month. The pace was semi-quick and there were various extensions placed at different points of the song. Shweta told us that the extensions were the main part and everything else was mainly filler and was meant to prepare us for the extensions. After a few classes, I realized that I was pretty good at the filler part and sucked at the extensions. Each time I stretched my leg towards the ceiling, I looked like an imbalanced Kung Fu Panda.

I'm quite flexible but I struggle a lot when it comes to balancing oneself in a particular position. I always:

1) Fall down

2) Wobble like a jelly to find my center.

3) Shake my hands around me like I'm drowning. 

I'm struggling right now too. Shweta noticed me hopping around like a madman and walked towards me.

"You need to squeeze your thighs and hips together when you're in a passe position, it helps you to place your weight in your center", she said as she lifted up my arms and tried to straighten my back. I nodded stupidly and tried to follow her instructions. It worked for a second and then I was back to my wobbly self again.

We continued to practice the routine for the remaining part of the class. At the end of it, I was only 0.1% better. 

We gathered around Shweta outside the studio after the class had ended, for a 5 minute chat session. It was a ritual that we followed. After the class got over, everyone was supposed to pick their stuff up and talk to the instructor about that day's class. 

"So guys, do you like this month's routine?", she asked in a cheerful voice. She transforms herself into a completely different person outside the studio.

Everyone murmured a soft 'yes', as though it would camouflage their real sentiment towards the routine. Shweta looked at us and grinned, "I know it's a little tough but you'll get used to it. It's just been 3 classes so far. You need to realize how important extensions are in lyrical jazz"

Again, everyone nodded but hardly seemed convinced. Shweta shook her head lightly and moved on to another topic, "Anyway, so there's an important announcement. As you all know, the summer workshop is approaching and it will begin in two weeks. Registrations are open now and you can come to either me or the studio manager to register yourself"

As though someone had just turned on a yellow light bulb, everyone's faces switched from sulky, tired expressions to 'yay-fun-time!' expressions in a split second. A soft buzz grew within the group, which soon escalated to a loud chatter. Workshops are indeed, fun times. We're taught a choreography which we ultimately go and perform on stage. It's a huge event because all batches, levels and classes perform and there's always a large audience (mostly parents) who come to watch the show. 

I had so far been in one workshop and it had really helped me evolve, both as a dancer and a person. God only knows, my fear of the stage was almost palpable before I performed. Even on the day of the performance, I was shivering like an old typhoid patient who had just walked out of the ICU.

We asked a few more basic questions, and then slowly started dispersing. As I was walking towards the main gate, I thought of the wonderful two months that lay ahead. IF I took part in the workshop. And then I thought of my parents. My hopes plummeted. They were already quite pissed with me, due to my grand revelation. I don't think they'd allow me to participate again.

I had almost reached the main gate when someone called out my name, "Shruti!", I turned around to see a boy in my class, I forgot his name, striding towards me. I looked at him confusedly, 'Yeah?"

"Shruti, right?"

I rolled my eyes, "Yep"

He grinned, "You're going to be promoted soon"

Something in my stomach just did a somersault, "How do you know?"

"I just heard Shweta discussing a few names with our co-instructor. She said you, Neha, Rajat and Meera, might get promoted after the workshop"

Before I could help it, my face broke into a huge, toothy smile and I almost jumped, "Finally! About time. I've been in this batch for almost a year now"

I thanked him for giving me the information and with the smile still plastered on my face, walked out of the main gate. But, suddenly a thought struck me. If Shweta said I might get promoted after the workshop, that means I will have to participate in it in order to finalize the promotion. 

I will have to convince my parents now. At any cost. 

Part 17

What do you want to do in life? You know, after college?

MBA, and then some real solid private job in an MNC

I want to do IAS.

I just want to be happy

I came back to reality as I recalled the last answer. Last year, a couple of friends and I had had a discussion about our future. Majority of them talked about how they would love to get a good job or a good business setup, or a government job and it’s securities etc etc. But one of them just said, ‘I just want to be happy’

Sounds stupid doesn’t it? But for me, right now, it seems like the most valuable lesson of my life. Where is happiness? How does one attain happiness? I turned around and looked at mom. She was fretting over a bill that had not been paid. My mom wasn’t happy.

She was living a life that wasn’t a ‘life’. She woke up each morning, did the routine house management, went to office, came back in the evening, had dinner and went to bed. There was so much to worry about, so much to think about, so much to do all at once, where was the time to be happy?

With each passing day, I felt as though I was losing her to an unknown darkness, and fear that I might not be able to get her back hit me like a ton of bricks. She seemed out of reach, out of contact. I wish I could do something to make her happy. Anything.

Last year, I was determined to choose a similar life for myself – becoming a businesswoman, running an establishment, making money. But now, that determination has started to waver.

I walked towards her and gave her a hug from behind, “Relax mom, it’s gonna be okay. The bill will be paid, okay?”

She smiled at me and said, “I know, it’s just that the due date’s passed and these guys might-”

“We do have candles”, I said sheepishly. She just stared at me for a while, shook her head and started smiling. My suggestion wasn’t practical, but the idea of a candlelight dinner with mom made me happy. And that was enough.

_______________________________________

“I love to paint trees in my paintings. They’re just so calm..and serene..and lively at the same time..”

Nandita is still morose. I don’t know how things are at her house. We still haven’t talked about that little fight we had yesterday over Varun. It still bothered me to remember her reaction. She should have been happy.

“..it is a really beautiful song. Have you heard it?”

I don’t get the deal with her parents. They’ve been going around beating the bush since the past two years, and the only thing they’ve done is make Nandita’s life worse.

“Naina? Naina?!”

I jerked back to reality, “What? What?”

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?”, said Ayush exasperatedly.

I was at his little ‘secret’ place. The place had a certain charm about it. Last time I had spent time here, I knew that it was a place I’d want to come back to. Singing was special to me. This place was full of it. And perhaps it was because I wanted to cherish music again, when I thought of ‘calmness’, this was the only place that came to my mind.

Ayush accepted my request after a little hesitation. This was his hiding place, afterall.

“I’m sorry. I just slipped into some third world for a while. What were you saying?”

He sighed, “I asked – do you like this song?”

“Which one?”

He started to pick up an album cover from the floor to show it to me, but then dropped it and said, “Why don’t we just play it?”

I grinned, “Surprise me”

15 seconds into the song and I knew which one it was. Before I could stop myself, I yelled, “Oh I love this song!” It was ‘Maeri’ by Euphoria. I remember dancing to this song years ago when it had come out.

I didn’t realize when I started singing along. It was probably a bad performance, but I didn’t care. Ayush didn’t care. It was the zest that mattered. For a moment, I forgot all about my problems.

When the song came to and end, we were both sitting on the floor and clapping for each other.

“You know what, you sing well”, said Ayush  excitedly. I brushed it off, “It’s amateur”

“Yeah, but the talent’s there”, he pressed on. I looked at him for a moment before shrugging it off again, “Forget it. Let’s do this again. What say?”

He played the guitar once and said, “Voila!”

I grinned, “Have you heard of the song..”

It went on for hours. There was homework piled up at home, and yet I was here, spending my Sunday evening in a hidden hut. Usually I would just be running around like a wild goose desperate to get the work done, but today, the physics worksheet was the last of my worries. I thought about how lucky Ayush was to have such a haven-like place tucked away safely behind his house, that too accessible at any point of time.

School was such an obstruction to doing what you wanted. It’s ironic, since education’s essential aim to help one find their way. School pretty much beats the purpose by stopping us from doing just that.

I finally looked at my watch when another song ended, “Crap. It’s 8 in the evening. I have to get going”

Ayush looked slightly perturbed, “Oh..but you can stay for another song?”

I opened my mouth to say something when he cut me off, “C’mon, just one? We were just beginning to drown into these notes”

He was an artist alright. No one spoke like that nowadays. I sighed, “Fine. But just one, okay?”

He bowed his head, “Yes, Senorita”. I narrowed my eyes and gave him a cut-the-crap look, “Shut up”

We ended up singing another five. I don’t think I’ve ever spent this kind of time at the dhaba either. Knowing that it was getting too late, I finally decided to make a move or else I’d end up spending the whole night here, “Thanks for today. It was great”, I said, meaning every word.

He looked up packing up his guitar in it’s case, “Not a problem. Actually, I’m glad to know someone who shares my passion”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, and sings like a frog”

Mild laughter ensued. Would anyone believe we used fight like small kids a week back? I got up started to walk towards the door when he said, “Oh and Naina?”

“Yeah?”

“Good job kicking Varun’s ass yesterday. I’d like to see that again”

The way he said it made me smile, “Sure. I’d love to”. Turning around, I waved my hand and said, “Bye Ayush”, and walked out of the door.

Part 16

I sat through the entire meeting. I would be lying if I said that it didn’t bother me. It did. I kept fiddling with my fingers while others shared, some experiences a sharp reflection of my own. Sharing this time wasn’t even a consideration, it would be difficult to find the words, leave alone saying them out loud. My head hung low during the entire meeting. Perhaps people noticed, but understood my need to conceal the overwhelming emotions. They had been there.

When the meeting got over, I finally looked up and saw everyone smiling warmly. We got up and held each other's hands firmly, this was a ritual I was aware of. Closing our eyes, we started chanting the customary AA prayer.

God, grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference.

I felt a soft thrust on my hand as everyone shook the held hands and chorused, ‘It works if you work it!’
Later, the senior group came down and almost instantly, the atmosphere transitioned to something very similar to a family re-union. Everyone hugged everyone, and everyone laughed with everyone. Members formed small groups and talked away about something.

I stood in one corner, looking at the scene before my eyes. Had it been a different situation and a different place, I’d have instantly deemed it to be superficial and fake, but not this place. Not a place where people could laugh so easily at their life-changing events, and at the same time, cry at the smallest of things. A smile played on my lips, I knew that this was a good place. I just didn’t know how I was going to survive it.

I noticed my mom standing in a group of four and laughing about something. I raised my hand and waved at her, trying to catch her attention. She finally noticed me and gestured me to come towards her, I slowly shook my head and mouthed, ‘It’s okay’ to her.

Someone behind me tapped on my shoulder. I turned around to see a guy smiling at me, ‘Coffee?’

I looked at him for a moment and said, ‘No thanks’

He nodded, ‘New member?’

‘Yeah’

‘I’m Yash, you?’

‘Naina’

‘Aah, I always loved that name. Extremely symbolic, isn’t it?’, he said, grinning.

I didn’t know how to respond, so I just managed to give him a small smile and said, ‘Um, I guess?’
“Come, I’ll introduce you to my group”, and having said that, he started walking towards a small group sitting in one corner, leaving me behind to follow. I glanced around, feeling absolutely and completely fazed out. Was everyone here so bizarrely welcoming?

Sensing that it would be awkward not to follow when he had assumed that I would, I slowly walked towards them.

“Guys, this is Naina. New member”, said Yash as we joined them. And then hands were shook, introductions were exchanged, and in no time, I was being treated as just an old member as any of them. Many offered to be my sponsors, but I wasn’t ready. Not yet. Any who, we exchanged numbers.
Finally, after the ‘voluntary extended meeting: VEM’, as Yash’s group liked to call it, got over, mom and I walked out of the church and towards our car, waving and saying ‘Byes’ to everyone. As we neared the parking slot, she asked me, “So?”

I looked at her, “So?”

“So, how was it?”, she said expectedly.

I nodded, “Good. Better than last time”

She smiled, “Does that mean you’ll come next week?”

Silence followed the question for a few moments. Did I want to? I had no idea. My conscious wasn’t answering the question. But then I looked at her in the eye and nodded, “I will”

_________________________________________

“Nandita, have some breakfast beta”, said her mom gently as she stared at Nandita roughly stuffing her books into her bag.

“Not hungry”, she mumbled, picked up her bad and started to walk towards the door. But her mom stood in her way, her expression mellow and almost apologetic, “Please Nandu, have something. You didn’t have dinner either”

Nandita took a deep breath and said, “Please mom, I’m getting late. I have to go”, and without looking up, she walked past her mother, leaving her mom on the verge of tears.

She rushed out of the gate, thankful that the tears hadn’t spilled in front of her mom. Anger, mixed with sadness overwhelmed her, and before she knew it, she was crying. But she kept walking fast, hoping that the exercise would somehow make the anger go away. Make the hurt go away. Onlookers stared at her tear-stricken as she walked towards her bus stand, but she didn’t care. She could no longer suppress her emotions behind the facade of happiness.

As the bus station faded out of sight, she stared out of the window, thinking about how messy the situation had become. After the confrontation last night, she had shut herself up in her room. Her parents, who were shell shocked at her outburst and particularly at the mention of divorce, didn’t know what to do. It was a slow night. Nandita tried to sleep, but the tears wouldn’t stop.

Now, devoid of all energy, she sighed and closed her eyes. Her head spinned, but she made no effort to open her eyes. Sometimes, being in the dark was better than being in the light.

____________________________

Nandita walked in, looking as dishevelled and tired as someone who had been to hell and back. She sat down beside me and put her head down on the table. I didn’t ask what was wrong, I knew.

I put a hand on her shoulder, “You didn’t sleep?”

She shook her head without looking up. My heart broke at the sight of her. Someone who was so strong, so tough, someone who faced every problem with a smile, had been reduced to this state. Finding no words, I continued to grip her shoulder tightly, trying to convey my support through that touch.

I took a deep breath and looked up, wondering how pain always lasted longer than happiness. Just then, I noticed a few boys of my class stealing glances at Nandita and smirking at their inside joke. I knew who it was, Varun, the wannabe stud cum ass**** of the class. And his followers.

Rage washed through me. Suppressing my compulsive desire to punch his face, I suddenly got up and yelled across the class, “Hey Varun, what’s so funny? Did you just look at yourself in the mirror or did you and your kids just scare a 1st grader?”

The smirk was wiped off his face as the entire class turned to stare at him. Nandita realized what was going on, and she stood up too, “Naina, just let it go. Forget –”

But Varun cut her off, “Who the hell is talking to you, Ms. freak? Can’t you mind your own f****g business like always?”

“Yeah? Then let me tell you something, dude. You crack another joke at my friend and I’m going to break that conceited nose of yours. And trust me, I don’t care what your mommy says about it. Get it?”, I replied, now feeling the anger pulsing through my body. Nandita was now pulling my arm but I continued to stare at Varun who was too, boiling with rage. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, our class teacher walked in and broke the deathly silence that had lingered in the room before her entrance.

Nandita pulled me down to our seat and said, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“He was laughing at you!”, I replied indignantly.

“He laughs at everyone, Naina. That’s what he’s here for, you shouldn’t bother-”

“Well I’m sorry for caring”, I spat out and turned away. I heard her sigh and drop the subject for the moment.