i always wanted to write. a story. a fantasy. a dream. it has always been. but lately been feeling a little courageous, and so here is a little excerpt from one of d many imaginations i cook up in my mind.
presenting, i am dancing. the two different struggles faced by two different persona's, on one common ground, dance.
" he looks down at his feet. wearing them has always been his dream. he peeks through the curtains, as a wave of panic rushes, cruises through his body. he looks at his painted fingers, and increases the volume of his mp3 player, as valli kanavan pirai screams in his subconscious mind. he drifts back to the day he saw his first love on the screen at home. the movement, the beat, the expression captivated his innocence so much, he dropped down the lego toy and went to his mother and father and said, mum, i wanna dance. dad looked down at his son, horrifed, that he wanted to dance and mum in bewilderment, on what he was talking. suddenly he was jerked back to reality as his hand were pulled, "you are next, get prepared" he said " huns, been doin that all my life" and smiled. this is it, he thought. im ready he took off the player, , hands at his side, and strode out, at que music. in his mind and heart shouting estatically, i am dancing."
"she sighs as another jump played its impact on her sore feet.'concentrate gal! you have to be in top shape!!' her mum's less then encouraging banter, be-seated, with her jathi stick poised to strike again. the aunt on the veenai gave her a sharp but sympathetic look. ' maybe she needs a break, she has been dancing non stop for quite some time you know" she said giving a slight hope. ' nonsense, she is not tired, she is just not concentrating. if you are tired , you can take rest...' the aunt gave another look and her eyes spoke her emotions. sympathy flowed through it. 'its ok aunt, im not tired.... i can dance, no worries.. take a break if you are felling tired..' the aunt threw a faint smile, and nods.. the shakes her head. she smiles as she adjusts her sash into place, and gets into aramandi again. she nods. her mum begins, ' from the start sadhana!, no cutting in between when you stop... ' and she begins.. asai mugham maranthu poche.. ' she bends, slightly and twist her hips getting into position and begin her formation of mudras deftly. if only her mums voice was not loud, she would her heard her mind and heart groaning, i am dancing.."