Dance – An Identity

Jinjiree Kakati

She was four, scared to her very core,
When she entered the door.
Terrified to let go of her mother’s hand,
Her curious eyes wandering over everyone around.
Hearing the beats of taal with those synchronizing feet.
Her heart too skipped a beat to it.
With just four years of life experience in her pocket,
She now stood in front of a Guru which was no piece of chocolate!
Soon Sundays turned its side,
From being the laze day to the dance day.
Sweat and tears; falling and getting up,
Was what that made her learn to move on with her class.
As days passed by dancing, she improved her acting skills pretending to be ailing,
But dance being her heart, always won to her mind’s blackmailing.
And when she stood on the stage in front of everyone for the Arangetram,
She realized that her every day’s hard work had paid off.
Feeling of appreciation flooded through her, reminiscing those weary days,

The four year old had finally found an identity, upholding a dancer’s glaze.

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