To dance...

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…