How cultural activities shaped me

The year was 2004, and my aunt invited my family to join them for the New Year’s celebration at their housing colony. As the evening went by, a group of teenage girls started dancing. The moment the music hit, I sprang up from the chair and climbed onto the stage as if I saw toffees being tossed into the air.

“You need to come down from the stage,” said my mom, who was stunned to see her three-year-old daughter grooving to a fast-beat song popular in the 2000s.

No amount of coercion could make me walk down. It felt as though I had stepped into unknown territory, yet I didn’t have any qualms about it. That was probably when my parents knew I was born to perform.

Baby steps

When I joined a private school for kindergarten, one of the first decisions my mom made was to see to it that I participated in cultural activities. I got to take part in light music, fancy dress competition, action song, recitation and folk dance. I wouldn’t say I was perfect at every activity I performed, but showing no sense of fear made me feel like I could conquer the world and manage any amount of stress.

Tackling fear

In the classroom, I was a very timid child, trying to figure out how to talk to my peers, let alone ask questions to teachers. The only time I enjoyed during those years was when I came back from school to go to my folk dance practice sessions. Leg cramps, fatigue, and dizziness — I experienced it all, yet it was exhilarating for me to perform. I was confident enough to perform in front of the audience, but somewhere deep in my thoughts, I began to experience fear and the thoughts of, ‘What if I stand blank on the stage or the music stops suddenly?’ weighed on me. On the day of the competition (I must have been in fifth grade), I trembled backstage, peeking out every now and then to see the audience.

My performance was right after another dance, and oh boy! My heart raced, my stomach churned, and the ground beneath me was a blur of motion. Perhaps this was one of the first few occasions when I experienced stage fright. Suddenly, a hand leapt onto my shoulder. When I turned back, it was my English teacher Poornima. Just seeing her infectious smile calmed my nerves. She knew I was not my usual self and prompted me to take deep breaths. Although I forgot some of the original steps, I realised that making a mistake or missing a cue is not as disastrous as people claim it to be. That ‘no- care’ attitude has made me go a long way and thrive in places out of my comfort zone.

Power of collaboration

In the midst of the chaos of dance and music, cultural activities also taught me that success is rarely an individual achievement. I have collaborated with my peers for district and state-level competitions that required an extra level of practice. This was also the time I was slowly emerging from my cocoon, making suggestions during the sessions and going out with them after practice.

Sometimes disagreements crept in where we had to compromise, listen to one another and find a solution that worked for everyone. Despite the limited time, my peers have shown that a good team member should be patient and empathetic and that blaming one another would deteriorate the team spirit in general. All thanks to my peers, I continue to uphold these principles wherever I go.

Handling failure

Not every competition guarantees applause or prizes. It was a hard pill to swallow when I lost the first prize to my competitor in the Ghazal music competition.

I was a part of many competitions that day and was ‘stage-hopping’ from one end to another. Losing the prize felt like my entire world collapsed. It got to the point where I wondered if I should withdraw from all the other events (I got an earful from my mother for even thinking about it). As much as I hated to admit it back then, my fellow competitor was at his absolute best. Even today, he pulls my leg for the frowning face I made when he won!

Finding my voice

We, consciously or unconsciously, conform our behaviour to the expectations of society. The most important thing cultural activities gave me was a chance to discover my identity. Through dance, music and even acting, I was free to express an array of emotions from within: laughing, crying, shouting and anger… I knew the stage was my permanent home.