The Unseen Dancer: Anupamaa's Story

Testing Boundaries - Part 1

The days following her outing with Devika felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from Anupamaa's shoulders. For the first time, she wasn't just running away from her past—she was stepping into her future.

But as life had taught her, every step forward invited new challenges.

Anupamaa had just wrapped up a dance therapy session at Nrityanjali when she noticed a familiar figure standing near the entrance.

Baa.

Leela Shah, dressed in her usual simple saree, stood with a disapproving expression, her arms crossed.

For a moment, Anupamaa's heart clenched. There was a time when she would have rushed forward, worried about what Baa thought, desperate for her approval.

But today, she simply walked over and folded her hands in greeting. "Jai Shree Krishna, Baa."

Baa scanned the room, her sharp eyes taking in the students practicing in the background. "Yeh sab kya tamasha hai?"

Anupamaa's jaw tightened, but she remained calm. "Tamasha nahi hai, Baa. Yeh ek sadhna hai. Therapy hai."

Baa scoffed. "Therapy? Kaun si aurat apna ghar chodkar yeh sab karne aayi hai? Maan le, Anupamaa, yeh sab bas ek dhoka hai. Ek din sab khatam ho jayega, phir tujhe waapas aana padega."

Anupamaa took a deep breath, her fingers curling into her saree. The old her would have absorbed Baa's words like a sponge, feeling guilty, feeling less.

But the new her?

She smiled—calm, collected, unshaken.

"Baa, aapko lagta hai ki mujhe wapas aana padega. Par main jaanti hoon ki yeh meri zindagi ka asli raasta hai."

Baa frowned. "Toh apni maa ka bhi nahi sunegi ab?"

Anupamaa's voice softened. "Agar aap sach mein meri maa hain, toh aapko yeh dekhkar khush hona chahiye ki aaj main pehli baar apne liye jee rahi hoon."

Baa's expression flickered—anger, shock, something unreadable. But she had never been one to back down.

"Dekhte hain, kitni door tak jaati hai yeh azadi."

With that, she turned and walked away.

Anupamaa exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

Old wounds had been poked, but they no longer bled.

Because this time, she wasn't standing in the same place.

She had moved far, far ahead.

And there was no turning back.

As Baa's retreating figure disappeared from sight, Anupamaa stood rooted in place, her mind swirling with emotions. There was a time when Baa's words would have shattered her, made her doubt herself, made her question her worth.

But not anymore.

She turned back toward Nrityanjali, where a group of young girls and women were practicing their movements, their faces filled with joy, determination, and newfound confidence.

This was her reality now.

Later that evening, as Anupamaa sat in her small but peaceful home, she received a call from Samar.

"Mummy, aaj Baa aayi thi na?" His voice was cautious.

Anupamaa sighed, stirring her chai. "Haan, beta."

"Mujhe pata tha," Samar muttered. "Aaj ghar pe bhi sirf aapki hi baat ho rahi thi. Toshu bhai ne kaha ki aap 'ziddi' ho gayi hain. Baa keh rahi thi ki ek din aapko pachtana padega."

Anupamaa's heart ached for her son. He was still caught between two worlds—wanting to support her but also dealing with the constant criticism at home.

She smiled gently, though he couldn't see it. "Beta, pehle mujhe doosron ke kehne par jeena padta tha. Ab maine apne mann ki sunni shuru ki hai. Agar log isse zidd keh rahe hain, toh yeh pehli baar hai ki mujhe apni zidd achhi lag rahi hai."

Samar chuckled softly. "Aap toh ab ekdum fighter ban gayi ho, Mummy."

"Pehle se hi thi, beta. Bas pehle kisi aur ke sapne ke liye lad rahi thi. Ab apne sapne ke liye lad rahi hoon."

There was a pause, then Samar spoke again. "Aap proud ho apne aap par?"

Anupamaa blinked. It was such a simple question. But no one had ever asked her this before.

She took a deep breath.

"Haan, beta. Aaj pehli baar, main khud pe garv mehsoos karti hoon."

Samar's voice was filled with warmth. "Main bhi, Mummy."

The next morning, as Anupamaa reached Nrityanjali, she found Devika already waiting for her, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

"Heard about Baa's grand visit," Devika said, dramatically rolling her eyes. "Aur maine yeh bhi suna ki tu ekdum boss lady ban gayi."

Anupamaa smiled. "Bas, apni zindagi ke naye rules likh rahi hoon."

Devika smirked. "Good. Because yeh log tere patience ka test lenge. Lekin ab tu woh purani Anu nahi hai jo gir jaye. Now you rise."

Anupamaa nodded. She knew that this was just the beginning. She wasn't fighting for revenge. She wasn't fighting for validation.

She was fighting for herself.

And this time, no one—no one—could make her stop.

The cool morning breeze carried the soft sound of ghungroos as Anupamaa walked into Nrityanjali. The air inside was filled with energy—students practicing their steps, soft music playing, laughter echoing.

This was her world now.

But just as she stepped onto the dance floor, her phone vibrated. A message from Kinjal.

"Mummy, ghar pe sab bohot gusse mein hain. Aap se milna chahta hoon. Kya aap café pe mil sakti hain?"

Anupamaa exhaled.

She had known yesterday's encounter with Baa would cause ripples. But Kinjal's message didn't feel like an attack—it felt like concern.

She quickly replied: "Haan, beta. Main ek ghante mein pahunchti hoon."

Anupamaa arrived at a quiet café, where Kinjal was already waiting with a cup of coffee. The younger woman looked stressed, her fingers tapping against the table.

"Mummy!" Kinjal stood up as soon as she saw her.

Anupamaa hugged her. "Sab theek hai, beta?"

Kinjal sighed. "Mummy, aapko pata hai na ki main aapke saath hoon. Par ghar pe... Toshu bohot gusse mein hai. Baa aur Kavya bhi lagataar keh rahi hain ki aap 'zid' kar rahi hain. Ki aapko waapas aa jana chahiye."

Anupamaa shook her head, taking Kinjal's hands in hers. "Beta, woh ghar mera nahi hai ab. Aur jo bhi kehna chahte hain, kehne do. Mere jeene ka tareeka unke samajh mein nahi aayega."

Kinjal bit her lip. "Mummy, main samajh sakti hoon. Par mujhe aapki tension hoti hai. Kya yeh sab aapko hurt nahi karta?"

Anupamaa smiled—calm and steady. "Kinjal, pehle karta tha. Par ab nahi. Ab main yeh samajh gayi hoon ki log sirf wahi dekhna chahte hain jo unke hisaab se sahi hai. Agar unka 'sahi' mujhe daba raha ho, toh mujhe usse alag hona hoga."

Kinjal looked down, deep in thought. "Main bhi wahan adjust karne ki koshish karti hoon, Mummy. Par kabhi kabhi lagta hai ki main bhi..." She trailed off, unsure.

Anupamaa squeezed her hands. "Jab bhi tujhe lage ki tu khud ko khone lagi hai, toh ek baat yaad rakh—apni khushi ka haq kisi ko mat dena."

Kinjal looked up, her eyes glistening. "Mummy, aap bohot strong ho."

Anupamaa smiled. "Meri kinju baby bhi hai."

For a moment, there was silence—one filled with understanding, love, and an unspoken bond