Of love and music

There really is something special about garba nights, Ruchi mused. The colours are brighter, the lights more sparkly and the music…oh there's no music like garba music. Everyone was on the dance floor. Girls who could move like a dream, boys with unlimited energy, uncles with two left feet, oh and those overweight aunties.. gosh how could they
be so beautifully graceful?

However, she alone stood rooted at the periphery, bound by a strange self consciousness that refused to leave her ever since she could remember. Her heart danced to the music, her feet tapped in perfect time but she stood still, soaking in the atmosphere.

Like each year, soon she was balancing a bunch of bags, clutches, mobile phones and cameras and clicking pictures for friends and strangers.

She felt a tug at her dupatta and looked down to find Seher, her three year old daughter. This was her first time at the Navartris and boy, was she excited! She loved everything about it. Her brand new chaniya choli, her jewellery and her bright yellow dandiya sticks. But most of all, she loved being the centre of attraction.

How beautiful she is, marvelled Ruchi, part of me yet so much her own person, so very different.

“Mama I want to dance,” said Seher
“Go on baby, go and dance,” she said pointing to the dance floor.
“I want to dance with you,” she said.
“Okay darling,” said Ruchi. She found a chair, deposited the bags and phones and held out her hands clapping to the beat, letting Seher take up all the moves.
‘No mama,” said she, "not like this, like we dance at home.”

They'd often fooled around in their living room, clapping to the beats, matching steps, clinking dandiyas. But that was different.

She looked around self consciously then glanced at the small eager face of her daughter. With an uncertain smile she lifted the dandiya and took a few tentative steps. She looked around again. No one was watching. She relaxed, yes she could do this. They were barely visible in the half light at the edge of the dance floor.

‘Mama let’s dance there,” said Seher, after a few minutes, pointing right to the centre.
“No way,” said Ruchi. “You go on, I’ll clap from here.”
‘But mama everyone is there, all my friends and yours. Let’s go pleeeeeese. No one can even see us here.”
That’s the point, thought Ruchi silently.
“No baby, mama is tired, you go ahead. Go dance with Amrita Aunty. Remember how she taught you the steps.”
“But I like the steps you taught me best and I don’t want to go with Amrita Aunty,” said Seher stubbornly digging in her feet.

Ruchi looked at her, then at that daunting crowd. Oh how she hated making a fool of herself. Seher tugged at her hand impatiently. “They are playing our song. Come on ma, it’ll finish,” she cried, almost in tears.. “Please ma.”

Ruchi sighed. She looked at her daughter. She had to do this. She would do it and to hell with what who would say.

“Alright,” she said, settling her duaptta. A smile lit up her daughter's tiny face so bright it blotted out everything else. She took her ma’s hand and they joined the circle of dancers right in the middle.

And then they danced.. mother and daughter.. matching steps, forgetting everything .. celebrating the music and their love.

It's Day 4 at 'The Write Tribe Festival of Words' (8th - 14th December 2013). Today's prompt is Music. For some super musical entries from Write Tribers go here..

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