When Ghungroos Tinkle

Stepping Stones

"Thaiya Thai Thaiya Thai
Thaiya Thai Thaiya Thai"

"Come on! You can do it!" Ma'am shouts, but our energy deprived bodies can barely stand up, let alone hit our legs in a sequence.

Ma'am has this thing about building stamina for programs, and hence the grueling sessions twice a month - in which we get to experience various levels of torture.

"Come on! Just a little bit more, Thaiyya Thai, and last... Thaiyya Thai!"

She stops, and all of us - rag dolls held by the strings of pure will, just drop down to the floor in exhaustion.

Don't get me wrong, I love my teacher and she makes us all laugh, buy it's hard not to despise dance at the moment when you feel you are going to be paralyzed for eternity.

"Okay. So quickly cool down and have some water. We'll do the thai-hat thai-hi's next." At which the class erupted in groans, but we did what we were told, we always did.

Based on a recent experience, I was reminded of why I love dance so much. Based on another recent experience, I was also reminded that I do hate the pain that dance gives me.

Through this course, I've realised that the best way to get rid of the physical agony is to push yourself further into the step, to become so involved that it wouldn't matter what was happening to my body.

But until I reach that level, sadly, I am stuck with the pain.

I have very little stamina and my energy levels remain eternally low. So, after spending the whole week's worth of energy at school, I feel drained at dance class, which is also precisely why the pain affects me more.

I'm not saying that I have a serious health condition or anything, nor am I ill in any way.

Last week, I walked into dance class, feeling slightly unwell. We all sat down, facing the the wall mirror that our teacher recently got installed.

We did our theory along with the previous batch, and continued to do our advanced theory when the first batch left.

"Okay, lets do the Shirobedha, the head movements," ma'am said, and we all complied.

"Samam Udvaahitam Adhomukham Alolitham Dhutam Kampitamcha Paravruttam Ukshiptam Parivaahitam," thirty something voices chorused along with me.

Then, to our disappointment, we realised that there was a stamina class scheduled. But I told myself I would not collapse, and got warmed up to start.

As we completed hardly three steps, my confidence slowly left me. I felt drained, as if the plug was pulled and all the water flowed away into the hole.

I couldn't handle the exertion any longer, and excused myself to sit down.
How many times had this happened? Countless times, I should say. It happens almost every second week in dance class. It isn't my fault, I know that for sure.

I'm just supposed to eat more, sleep on time, sleep enough, and try to be this great all-in-one person who juggles school projects and the physical activity that people throw at me. It's simple, right?

Only, it's not.

Typically, no pain, no gain, right?

So here I am. Still pursuing the art that I've tried to persuade myself to stop, but never have been able to, you know?

The pain is a stepping stone, it is a leap forward into the world of perfectly poised dancers who dance with self respect and self satisfaction, and give their all to the audience in front of them.