I was five years old when I started dancing.

My mother actually wanted to join me into classical music

because she thought I had a flair for singing when my eyes soon fell upon a group of girls dancing in the
kuchipudi style. Next thing I remember is dragging my mom to the dance hall and standing there
transfixed! My mother read my expression and knew I want to learn dance.

And thus began the most exhilarating and magical journey of my life, of becoming a dancer. Always
excited and ready to learn, I was soon perfecting the basic steps, the gestures, the techniques and the
expressions and was enjoying t thoroughly. I was lucky to have a teacher who was dedicated, who not
only instilled in me her love and passion for music and dance but also for the history of Indian classical
dance. When I was eight, my first public performance happened, an important role in a dance ballet. The
rigorous rehearsals, the special moves and routines, the focus needed to keep perfect timing and be in
sync with everyone else, everything was new and at the same time thrilling to me. In that performance,
while I was just dancing for the joy of it, I was noticed as a talent and was encouraged by my parents and
teachers, friends and schoolmates just about everyone. More performances followed and I tried to do
my best in each one of them. At home my parents made proud reports to their friends and relatives and
my winning shields were on display for anyone visited home. I loved what my success brought to me. It
did boost my sense of self-worth and confidence but I wasn’t ready for the constant expectation to
excel. It seemed to increase with each performance. There were one or two mishaps on stage which
disappointed my teacher and my parents and I started feeling inadequate. I started doubting my ability,
my talents. I also sensed that there was constant comparison and too much competition in this field and
making a mark was not easy. Performances started feeling like a struggle. But I wasn’t going to stop
there, I had to stand up and start moving forward.

And how do I it?

I got fixated with fulfilling others expectations. I did not want to disappoint them further. I saw
myself performing just so that others are proud of me. I had lost my original motivation for
dancing, the pleasure of dancing for its own sake. So, when people sang my praises, I deflected their
words of encouragement because I didn’t feel it. Many accomplishments and even awards came my
way but I continued to feel inadequate because it meant little to who I was and what I was really
looking for. As I got older, I realized that there was an underlying desire in me to know dance
more deeply and completely and enrolled in to Diploma course in which I ranked first in my
batch, I wanted to pursue it further and do my masters too but couldn’t do so because of lack of
time. Trying to balance my professional studies and my performing career was itself becoming a
big challenge for me. My dancing career continued till I was 21 and then I decided to give it up
altogether because, to be entirely honest, I got too worn-out by the stage, the pressure and the
competition.
In our culture, there is In our culture we place a lot of emphasis on the achievements for which a
person has been recognized – she is a two-time Olympic medalist; he is a famous actor who has
won numerous stage and screen awards. These things say little of who a person really is.
In our
When you succeed in getting that person’s approval you “Feel-good-about-self”
which fills in that void, left in you due to the lack of a healthy sense of Self. This is a
set up for a life-long compulsive need for approval, a slave of performing to
perfection for fear of Annihilation.pp;

culture we place a lot of emphasis on the achievements for which a person has been

recognized – she is a two-time Olympic medalist; he is a famous actor who has won

numerous stage and screen awards.

These things say little of who a person really is.