I sit on the couch at the end of a long day with the TV
playing as I watch more or less unseeingly. I think of this and that while my
thoughts slide around in a lazy manner for even my thoughts are too tired to
cause me problems. And then I see her, my little sprite, her permanently messy
hair swirling about her face as her limbs sway and her body moves in time to
some silly jingle.
My girl can dance to anything and everything. Any tune that
takes her fancy has her jumping out of her seat and bursting into a dance. It’s
a revelation to me that there can be inside anyone this level of joy which
needs but a tune to emerge in the form of carefree dance. How irrepressible is
the spirit of children! My tired eyes look at her and find fresh energy. I
start smiling without knowing that I am smiling.
My day is always long and I am always too exhausted to find
energy at the end of it. Its good exhaustion though; the kind that comes from
working on something meaningful and necessary. And yet the last hour on the
couch sees me asking the kids to fetch me water or some other little indulgence
because I cannot summon the energy to do it myself. They oblige and while Appu
seems tired on some days, Mahi is bubbly till she pulls the quilt up under her
chin and drifts off to sleep.
Today I watch her dance to the theme music of a detective
show. Each day she yells “Look Amma – new steps!” and comes up with different
steps for the same song. How light she is on her feet and how easily she can
dance! I have always been too self-conscious and the weight of that
self-consciousness has never left my feet. They appear leaden in comparison
with my daughter’s. I think back to my childhood and wonder if I too was as
light on my feet once but I cannot clearly remember this kind of happy dancing.
I know I did twirl like any little girl would. But I also know that most often I
would hold my limbs to myself and sit ever so quiet even when the most tempting
songs came my way.
As one grows older, the weight of responsibilities and
expectations seems to flow into every part of our bodies till each part feels
heavier. Of course I know people who can dance no matter what their age and it
is not of actual dance that I talk about. The feeling of lightness that makes
life feel like a dance is part of the nature of children. One loses that
lightness over time as the deposit of fears, worries and anxieties begin to add
up.
My little one dances now. I see her and laugh in delight at
the beauty of her childish grace. Beneath the laughter is a prayer – a prayer
that she keeps her lightness and her spirit to dance away the blues for all
time. Along with the prayer is a fond wish that in another life maybe I too
will learn how to dance…
