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Dance of my Life

      

"Kathak? Why? Why not other dance forms that are for boys? Why do you have to learn a dance form that girls do? Remember you are a boy. Boys are not supposed to do things that demean their manhood. The society will never accept such preferences. You will have to change your choices. Be a man! Stop having feminine preferences. ", reprimanded my father on hearing my plea to let me receive a training in Kathak. This wasn't the first time that I had been scolded this way. Whenever I tried to bring out the topic of my dancing, I had to face the strong wrath of my father's prejudices and stereotypes. It is always very easy for him to declare his verdict but he fails to realize that choices can be altered but the choices that have turned into passion couldn't be pursued from their path of excellence. Dance had become my passion very long time ago and I was prepared to go through every harsh consequence that would come my way to follow my passion, my dreams. It was my father who taught me to never give up. I will live up to his expectations. I never gave up, nor will ever do so. I would fight against the prejudices to shine my way. I was determined and that was the day I decided to never leave my dreams.
Even though I was not lucky enough to receive a formal training, I learned the several moves through television shows and online videos. I continued to dance in several occasions of my school without letting my parents get the slightest of hint. Being untruthful seemed okay in these situations. Things were going fine. I was enjoying the graceful swirls and the embrace of trinkets around my legs. I was dancing my heart out.
Times changed, school got over. With that, the various opportunities to be able to dance again seemed vague. But life had other things for me in store. I got into one of the most reputed colleges of the city. With legacy, it had its heritage intact. People there had respect for fine art and I got the due respect that I deserved. I became famous all at once in only few days. People started to know me. I started getting calls for shows and occasions. I had a feeling of being in the seventh heaven with all this happening around me. I began to dance again. Again I got chained to the rhythm. The beats got over me all over again. I was never as happy as I was then. But as the saying goes, " Good times are too good to last forever" , my days of happiness too had a full stop. Some of the pictures of my dance performance were uploaded on the social media. That news spread like wildfire. People of my locality got too agitated to see me rise. It appeared to them as a sin, as if I had performed an Unforgivable Curse on somebody. Even an Unforgivable Curse seemed forgivable compared to the judgement, reprimand, and forceful taunts that came my way. "This boy dances like a girl, no wonder he will turn into an eunuch later.", said an extremely respected personality of my locality. For him , being respectable was to judge others based on their deeds that seemed wrong to him. He had his followers too, who would make your life hell once you try to go out of conventional norms. Still I was strong. I never feared them. I faced their daily insults thrown at me. I was still strong when I was literally molested on the road because of my preferences. I was strong. I faced everything until that day.
My father got to know about all that. The "so-called" socialized people left no opportunity to make him realize the fault in his upbringing. My father in turn left no chance to make me realize my mistake. He kept on scolding, I kept on arguing. That seemed unending. In the end, I chose to ignore. I turned numb. It caused a momentary peaceful atmosphere but the upheaval within was constant. My insides were burning with a feeling of disappointment. I glanced out of the window and saw clouds floating around freely. The silver lining around the clouds reminded me of the talents people are endowed with. Talent that I have been entrusted with.
Talent that people view with a sight of utter disgust. The faint breeze blowing on my face pulled me out of my reverie. I realized I am not in my room anymore. I was on the cloud that I had been watching. I had trinkets around my ankles and I was free to dance. Nobody to stop me, nobody to judge the sin, the various clouds gathered around to see me spin. I swirled and swirled. The trinkets seem to jingle endlessly. I wasn't getting tired. This dance seemed eternal. This was the dance of my life, or to say, the dance after death.

 

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Publication Date: 03-20-2017

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