Run! Run Fast! Hurry up. You need to take bigger steps; you
can’t be so slow - I heard my father screaming at me. We were saving our lives
from some random people who I did not recognize. The only reason I was running
from them was because my father was.
There was no way I could find out the reason. The darkness
scared me further. I had grabbed my father’s hand but could not meet the pace
of my father. Suddenly the people behind came nearer and my father sped up. I
lost him, I lost him somewhere. I was all alone in the dark. I was going to be kidnapped,
I was going to die! I knew it. My father left me alone; he did not turn to see
me. He saved his life and ran away. I was sitting there unable to decide anything.
And I woke up from my dream sweating with a severe
headache, from a dream that had been following me since I was 15.
My dad was dead; to be more specific he committed suicide
when I was 15 leaving behind loans debts and a business that had failed
miserably. My relatives walked away without giving a helping hand to me and my mom.
They did not want to get into such a big mess. Our home was snatched away from
us by the bank against the loan.
I had always been a silent kid, moreover a scared kid. I did
have clear opinions about my rights and wrongs but never had the guts to speak
up against the wrong. I was always indecisive.
When people abused my mother to be the unlucky woman in my father’s
life, I kept quiet.
When I was molested by my uncle post my fathers death, I
kept quiet.
When my grandmother slapped my mother because she refused to shave
off her hair which usually Hindu widows are supposed to do, I kept quiet.
I was angry on everyone around me, I was insulted, my mother
was insulted but I kept quiet. I don’t know why I never could open my mouth. I
screamed in my dreams but no one heard me.
Mom and me left Delhi and moved to a comparatively smaller
city called Pune in Maharashtra. Everything was so different here; there was no one we knew.
But mom wanted to come very far from Delhi. She wanted to settle in a place
where the memories of my father and his failure won’t haunt us, where I, her
young daughter won’t be hurt. But little did she know, I was not hurt, I was completely
broken within. I had a feeling of hollowness.
I told my mother I did not want to study. She left the
decision on me and I was standing there not knowing what am I going to do with
my life.
My mom treated me as an equal. She wanted me to speak up, be
decisive and be independent.
I chose Bharatanatyam, a beautiful form of dance, very close to my
heart. I did not have to shout, I could express with my eyes. On my first
performance, I saw people noticing my moods and applauding for the same.
The bad
dreams I had started fading as years passed by. They never left me alone but
they were sure less in number now. I was doing well in my career and my mom in
her small business. We both were happy.
My relatives
walked in home one day and they expressed the family’s unhappiness with my
dancing career. Before my mother could defend me, I told them this was our
decision and we would not like anyone’s advice on the same and politely asked
them to leave our home.
The dreams
never came back again and I slept peacefully after that. I was not alone, I had myself, my words and my dance
with me!
