A lazy weekend.
The building’s
cultural committee announces Janmashtami celebrations on Monday.
Kids could go dressed
as Krishna or Radha and even perform, if they chose to.
I casually inform my
daughter that she could dress up as Krishna or Radha.
She proudly pipes up,
“I am a girl. I am going to go as Radha”.
Ok. I quickly make a
mental note of what she could wear and the topic is forgotten.
She gets busy playing
with her friends.
Sunday
dinner time
A firm voice declares,
“I want to dance tomorrow. Please teach me something.”
Of course, I dismiss
it as a random statement. I am already mentally winding up for the night and
preparing for the week ahead.
And I haven’t even
thought of any performance. In my mind, there is not enough time to prepare
her.
Dinner over.
She walks up to me and
says – “Is your kitchen work over? Please come and teach me. I want to dance
tomorrow.”
I stare at her –
blankly.
But she is sure.
What
follows: Frenzy for
the mommy
Mommy quickly wrapping
up work.
Mommy mind multi-tasking
and thinking of an apt song.
Ahaaa…. Of course… the
recent “Radha on the dance floor”
Dishes are clanging.
Ummm no… that song
would be too un-Janmashtami.
Leftovers packed and
put in the fridge.
Oh yesssss… the
eternal classic - Madhuban mein Radhika.
Cleaning up the
kitchen platform.
What steps can I teach
a determined little girl so that she could perform tomorrow?
And all the while she
waits patiently.
Daddy is helping her
with her night dress.
Finally I say, “OK,
come. I shall try teaching you a few steps.”
1.5 minutes – not a
very big deal, I convince myself.
She picks up the steps
with rapt attention, practices a few times and declares – am ready.
But is the
mommy mind ready?
a) The program is the very next evening. She has
school in the morning. So there is really no more practice time.
b) Come to think of it, this would be her first
solo performance. Won’t she get stage fright? Oh well ok, be prepared, she
might just refuse to dance when on stage.
c) She also wants to carry a real matka!! What
if she drops and breaks it??
d) And she wants to wear a veil !! Oh God, too
much pressure on my mind.
All this for a 1.5
minutes performance (would be termed
blink and miss performance).
D-day (or rather, next day)
She wakes quickly from
her post-school afternoon siesta.
Willingly and very
co-operatively gets ready for the dance.
Last moment, (as if my worries aren’t already enough) she
comes up with a suggestion –
“Ma, wont you paint my
fingers and palms red?”
Ohhhhhh??!!
The little brain
understands that the mommy brain is dysfunctional at the moment.
Proactively fishes out
her red sketch pen and hands it to me with a victorious smile.
And I get to work
quickly on those little palms and finger tips.
I take her to the
performance zone and wonder “Will she really go up alone on stage?”
Her daddy returns just
in time to catch her. He asks her if she is prepared.
A nonchalant shrug of
shoulders indicates “Of course!!”
And Radha
goes on the dance floor.
It is not “just”
1.5 minutes anymore.
It is then 90 seconds
of pure fun that she has, 90 seconds of pure joy that daddy and I derive.
90 seconds that tell
me – calm down.
It’s us adults who
have so many worries in the mind.
These young ones are
free of all such inhibitions and are hence, brimming with confidence and
happiness.
They are more capable
than we think.
And those precious 90
seconds later, a delighted smiling face comes off the stage.
Oh, and what do we
have here? Unexpected little stinging in the mommy eyes.
A little bit of pride
– for the little one had confidently taken to the stage.
And more of happiness
– mommy has always cherished the Indian classical dances, especially Kathak. And to realize that
the little one is developing a love for such dance is so very heartening.
So… Here’s hoping that
my little Radha continues to take to the dance floor. 💃
