Ruh ki Thirkan

Chapter 8: The Private Session

The studio was silent when Ishika arrived early for her scheduled private session with Arav. The usual hum of activity was absent, replaced by a heavy, anticipatory quiet. Ishika’s heart pounded as she prepared herself for what was expected to be a rigorous review. Arav’s recent critiques had been unyielding, and she knew this session was likely to be no different.

Arav entered the studio, his presence commanding attention. His gaze was steely, and his demeanor carried an edge that hinted at dissatisfaction. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“Ishika,” he began, his voice sharp. “I’ve called you here because I’ve noticed a consistent lack of focus and discipline in your performance. It’s not just about missing technical marks; it’s about the attitude you bring to this workshop. It’s clear you’re not fully committed.”

Ishika felt a lump in her throat but forced herself to meet his gaze. “I’m committed, Arav. I’m doing my best.”

Arav’s expression remained unchanged. “Your ‘best’ isn’t good enough. I expect more from you. If you’re distracted by something else, you need to address it. This workshop is not a place for half-hearted efforts.”

He motioned for her to start the routine they had been working on, a complex sequence that combined intricate footwork with expressive movements. As Ishika began, she felt the familiar rush of energy, but Arav’s piercing gaze was unwavering. He scrutinized every step, every movement, his eyes sharp and unforgiving.

When Ishika finished, Arav’s silence was heavy. He stepped forward, his frustration evident. “Your execution is sloppy. You’re missing the fluidity I’ve been emphasizing. It looks forced and mechanical. What’s the point of practicing if you can’t perform with the depth and emotion required?”

Ishika’s cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “I’m trying, Arav. I really am.”

Arav’s patience seemed to thin. “Trying isn’t enough. You need to show me that you can deliver. Right now, you’re just going through the motions.”

He demonstrated the move in question, his movements precise and controlled. As he finished, he turned to Ishika, his gaze unwavering. “Do it like this. Pay attention to the subtleties and the way your body moves with the music. It’s not just about the steps; it’s about how you embody them.”

Ishika watched intently, her heart racing. She knew she had to get it right, but the pressure was intense. She stepped back into position and attempted the move again, trying to replicate Arav’s example.

Arav moved closer, positioning himself to offer guidance. As he reached to adjust her posture, his proximity was almost palpable. His hand brushed against her shoulder, and Ishika felt a jolt of tension. She could feel the warmth of his body and the firmness of his grip as he corrected her form.

“Relax your shoulders,” he instructed, his voice low and focused. “Let the movement flow naturally. Don’t stiffen up.”

Ishika adjusted as instructed, trying to follow his corrections. The proximity between them was intense, and she could sense his frustration mingling with a rare moment of concentrated attention. The closeness made her acutely aware of his presence, adding to the complexity of the situation.

Arav’s hand remained on her shoulder for a moment longer than necessary, his touch surprisingly gentle as he guided her through the movement. His gaze was intense, and Ishika felt a conflicting mix of emotions—nervousness, frustration, and an unspoken tension.

“There,” Arav said finally, stepping back. “That’s better. Remember, it’s not just about getting it right; it’s about making it your own.”

Ishika nodded, trying to steady her breathing. “Thank you.”

Arav’s expression softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. “I need to see more consistency. If you can’t maintain focus and improve, you’ll struggle to keep up. This workshop is about pushing your limits, but you have to be fully committed.”

As Arav left the studio, the door closing behind him, Ishika was left alone, grappling with the weight of his words and the intensity of their interaction. The private session had been a crucible of pressure and emotional turbulence. The unexpected proximity had stirred something within her, adding a new layer to the already complex dynamics of their relationship.

With the studio now empty and the evening light fading, Ishika took a deep breath. The path ahead was uncertain and fraught with challenges, but the day’s experiences had also ignited a new resolve within her. As she collected her things and prepared to leave, she felt a renewed sense of determination. Despite the harsh critique and the confusing mix of emotions, she was more committed than ever to proving herself and overcoming the obstacles in her way.