Lisa always enjoyed dancing as a kid, we would play music and she would just dance away- that was one of our favorite past time. She was 3 when we enrolled her for ballet classes at her Montessori. After a few months into her training, her ballet teacher announced the first recital that was upcoming. Just as every mom, I was super excited as it was going to be our baby’s first ever dance performance. I started dreaming of our little girl in her cute ballerina outfit, ready to dazzle the audience with her gracious moves. I was counting the days more than her and finally the big day arrived. I still remember getting out of work early with my video camera and camera all charged and ready to capture the precious moment which was going to be a life lasting memory. We reached the performance hall, and there stood our girl ready: decked up head to toe, she was gleaming with joy when she saw us! We waved and blew kisses. There were many parents like us and all were gearing up for the dance.
Finally the much awaited moment arrived, the music was on and there it began..
All the little girls began dancing, but our little one just sat there with a terrifying face. I thought it is just the initial block, and she is going to catch up soon. Waited endlessly, but there was nothing, she did not move an inch. We both looked at each other, and hoped something would happen soon. Before we knew, the music was over and I heard the audience clap. Our child still sat there still terrified and helplessly staring at both us, not quite comprehending what just happened. I went up to her and she burst out crying. Hugged her tight and tried to console her.
I had all sorts of feelings within me. Failure, guilt, sadness, anger and what not!! All those dreams were shattered in a few seconds. Where did I fail? What did I miss? How did this happen? What went wrong? Won’t she ever dance again? Did I have very high hopes in a 3 yr old?
It is not really that, now that I think about it. It is just the mere desire to relive one’s childhood experience in our own child, it is a wish to see myself in my daughter, it is the expectation that our passion has rightly been passed on to our child. I was very sad and the guilt inside me was piercing deeply. I cried. Maybe I should not have pushed myself to this extreme. None of the thoughts seemed like a consoling factor until I talked to my mema (my mom’s sis), who reminded me how my first stage appearance was an utter failure as well. Well, that kind of was some silver lining in the dark clouds. Yes, I remember my mom talking about it about how I cried too.
Lisa is now 8 and recently gave a performance, which moved me deeply. My eyes were welled up after the show, but it was a feeling of accomplishment. After all, she can do it- that is the only thought I had.
Dance is always very special to me. The thrill of walking onto a stage, gearing for a performance with a rush of adrenaline, putting my heart and soul into every tiny move and in the end- bowing down to a roar of applause: the feeling is just sublime. Lisa's journey has just begun and she has a very long way to tread, my prayers and hopes are still on and I like to remind myself that I shouldn't expect a whole lot. She is training under her respective Guru, Vidyalakshmi, and I know for sure she is in the right hands.
A dear friend, recently experienced something similar and I talked to her about how disastrous my first experience was as well. It is very hard for us moms to get shattered easily, but time is the best healer. Like we always say, there is a moment for everything. And for whatever reason, whatever we may do or say, that is not going to change ever!
