My only concern at that very moment was my lehnga — too heavy to hold on to and too long to walk in easily. How was I supposed to perform in something I could barely move around in? There was a huge probability of me tripping, a predicament I wasn’t looking forward to.

However, despite my ‘wardrobe complication’, I made my way on to the wooden stage. A stage that stretched from one end to another, beautifully adorned with flowers and ornaments. At the top, spotlights of all colours lightened up the stage, along with everyone’s face as they watched me enter.

With a pounding heart and nervous breaths, I stared into a vast crowd of unfamiliar faces. All of them watching me as I stood alone, expecting magic and wonders. That’s exactly what I wanted to give them.

I was an artist and this stage was my canvas. With the liberty of free space and all the tools and paints, I was ready to show the crowd what I was capable of. But most importantly, show myself what I could do.

With the beat of the music, I felt myself gracefully swaying across the stage. My mind had now lost all control of my body. It was my heart, which was synchronising itself to the rhythms and the beats. My expressions locked with the words of music and with the rush of adrenaline in my blood, I danced my heart out.

No more was I perturbed about the weight of my lehnga. It had a motive of its own now; to add beauty to classical dancing by swirling around.

I could hear the vibrant crowd cheer me on. An art I created and they approved. They welcomed it with beaming smiles and contented applause. With my confidence soaring in the clouds and the encouragement from those around me, I continued to move with the blissful music. It was the first time I ever attempted classical dance. The first time I ever stepped out of my comfort zone to explore the virtuosities concealed behind my doors.

The best part about trying something new is realising the fact that you have the ability to attempt it regardless of the weights and problems holding you back. Along with that, the best part is also when others realise you’re capable of something. You feel appreciated, valued and for once in your lifetime of severe self–doubt, you feel accomplished. And that’s how I felt. And at that very moment, my long lost love for dancing was reborn.

By the time, I was finished; all eyes were on me as I stood at the centre of my stage. I could call the stage mine now. I had conquered it and left on it a memory that was to be long remembered. A reminder to my future self, that I was capable of unlocking artistry dwelling within me, abilities just ready to burst out and make an impression on the empty canvas of my world, skills just waiting for recognition and appreciation. And after I was finished, the weight of my lehnga no more concerned me.

Published in Dawn, Young World, April 14th, 2018