"There is no one like you," the mother preened seeing her daughter dance. "What talent you have! You must nurture it," she said quietly, as if sharing a secret with the child.
The child's eyes grew wide in wonder. She put in more effort, if only to please her mother.
She grew up and at every stage, she was clear that dance was god's gift to her and she would make a career of it.
Being recognised by the public added to her sense of pride. The adulation she saw among her family and friends went to her head. She developed airs. Her chin - was that always an inch up in the air? Her eyes, looking down on others for not being her? Her eyebrows, raised just a bit to wonder what the other person was doing in her vicinity?
She stored the reviews about her programs, displayed her awards and the blow ups of her in various poses covered her walls. She smiled to think how unique she was. Her cousins, her siblings - they worked for a living. She pursued her passion.
She liked that! She used that line as often as she could when she talked to the press.
There was no one like her, though there were many dancers in town. Her family ran around her needs. Everything was scheduled as per her requirements. Her very wish was their command.
When a distant aunt was to come, she frowned. Her mother pleaded, "Just for a week."
She tossed her head, her only indication that she would allow it provided it was just for a week.
She woke up early as usual and after a few stretches, switched on music and let the rhytm sink in as she struck a pose. The opening of the door and the old lady entering the room irritated her. She was about to stop the music when her innate desire to stun made her go on.
Her performance shone better than it did on stage. She finished and turned to the old lady. "Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a superior smile touching her lips.
The old lady sighed. "Your grandmother had a sister. You remind me just of her."
She frowned. "Why? Do I look like her?"
The lady shook her head. "Your sister looks like her, but you dance just like her. If only her father had let her pursue dance."
She felt a slight shock. "You are lucky, your mother has let you learn dance and perform on stage. Poor thing, she would have died willingly for dance, but it was not done in our families."
Some of her sense of being unique took a beating as she waited for the lady to go on. "There was no question of learning dance, but when we cousins met, we would display our talents behind closed doors. Your grandmother could sing, and singing was encouraged. But her sister would dance as she pleased. She would have us mesmerised."
She pursed her lips and stood up. What did it count, she thought to herself. The grandaunt may have been a dancer, but it was her that the world would remember.
She didn't let the old lady continue but abruptly left the room. The lady sat back, regretfully remembering her cousin who may have been a more famous dancer if circumstances had been different. "Wonder who she got the genes from."
Also read: The Super "EYE"; Bringing Up
The child's eyes grew wide in wonder. She put in more effort, if only to please her mother.
She grew up and at every stage, she was clear that dance was god's gift to her and she would make a career of it.
Being recognised by the public added to her sense of pride. The adulation she saw among her family and friends went to her head. She developed airs. Her chin - was that always an inch up in the air? Her eyes, looking down on others for not being her? Her eyebrows, raised just a bit to wonder what the other person was doing in her vicinity?
She stored the reviews about her programs, displayed her awards and the blow ups of her in various poses covered her walls. She smiled to think how unique she was. Her cousins, her siblings - they worked for a living. She pursued her passion.
She liked that! She used that line as often as she could when she talked to the press.
There was no one like her, though there were many dancers in town. Her family ran around her needs. Everything was scheduled as per her requirements. Her very wish was their command.
When a distant aunt was to come, she frowned. Her mother pleaded, "Just for a week."
She tossed her head, her only indication that she would allow it provided it was just for a week.
She woke up early as usual and after a few stretches, switched on music and let the rhytm sink in as she struck a pose. The opening of the door and the old lady entering the room irritated her. She was about to stop the music when her innate desire to stun made her go on.
Her performance shone better than it did on stage. She finished and turned to the old lady. "Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a superior smile touching her lips.
The old lady sighed. "Your grandmother had a sister. You remind me just of her."
She frowned. "Why? Do I look like her?"
The lady shook her head. "Your sister looks like her, but you dance just like her. If only her father had let her pursue dance."
She felt a slight shock. "You are lucky, your mother has let you learn dance and perform on stage. Poor thing, she would have died willingly for dance, but it was not done in our families."
Some of her sense of being unique took a beating as she waited for the lady to go on. "There was no question of learning dance, but when we cousins met, we would display our talents behind closed doors. Your grandmother could sing, and singing was encouraged. But her sister would dance as she pleased. She would have us mesmerised."
She pursed her lips and stood up. What did it count, she thought to herself. The grandaunt may have been a dancer, but it was her that the world would remember.
She didn't let the old lady continue but abruptly left the room. The lady sat back, regretfully remembering her cousin who may have been a more famous dancer if circumstances had been different. "Wonder who she got the genes from."
Also read: The Super "EYE"; Bringing Up
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