By Himani Arora Gupta
I was barely 4 when I learned to spread my arms,
Tap my feet and twirl around.
The beat of my heart synched with the musical notes,
While my body swayed to experience Chi-in-Motion - called Dance!
I was too young to know what pulled me to perform.
Dancing always felt like Zen, even then.
I grew up on stories of success,
Dreaming mine would be - ‘Impressive in the ways I expressed’.
And my tapping feet were certain to achieve,
My whole being could sense the energy.
I would know every micro-beat playing inside out,
An unending sea of applause- was all I could hear out loud.
I was only 11 when someone broke my rhythm.
Folded my red carpet,
Scrapped off the notes that I loved dancing to,
Asked me to part ways with my beloved- gungroos.
I knew not what wrong had I done.
What threatened them?
Why did they trade my dream away?
The music now only played, feebly, in my head.
My soul yearned and longed to sway.
I casually thought,
It’s only a matter of a few days.
But… but weeks went by,
And so did months,
Years flew past,
Dancing dreams were now shunned!!!!
Those who tampered with my path,
Crucified a child’s desire,
When I was soaring in my dream world,
They reported a bogus fire!
I wonder what blinded them,
Why they did not see God?
Because each time I danced,
Tears of joy rolled down their eyes,
And their hands involuntarily came together in an unending applause.
They witnessed the divine speak to my soul,
I was young then,
Yet, I am sure.
Because I still know that feeling,
Like we light a Diya,
Something lit up in me then,
Oh boy, oh boy! And the energy was immense.
I went into a trance like I was contained.
And when the stage was pitch dark,
I would dance like a flame!
Once I was through,
And went backstage,
Parents of my friends and many adults,
Waited to bow, get a glimpse of me, or touch my feet with unflinching faith!
Well, that was then,
I now have two daughters,
One is 4, the other 11,
I do break into dance even now,
I still celebrate and weep a little,
For now, that flame is a meager spark.
But then, the divine still speaks to me.
When my feet can’t express,
I use my hands to do the talking,
And words flow out,
In a Poetic Dance…
Dance I shall, till my last breath.
Because I know it’s a dream meant to be true.
Absolutely beautiful and heart touching poem!! Excellent work 👏👏