Mira was annoyed when she had learnt the day
before, just before leaving work that she would have to replace her boss for
this reception. Although it was just a fund raising affair, their company had
to be represented – ‘it is at these places that you make interesting contacts
that may eventually bring us business’ her boss had said primly.
‘Why me, Rita?’ she had moaned. ‘You know
I’m not too good at these things. Gina would do much better. She is the real
party animal.’
‘Gina can’t go tomorrow. She has the DCX
project to finish. We present the draft day after tomorrow. But of course, you
know all about it. You’ll be there as well, to present the digital part.’
‘OK, alright then. But I am doing this under
duress, Rita. And I shall miss my dancing class too.’
‘Sorry Mira. I know how much you like your
dancing classes. But this event is really important. Tell you what – you can
take the afternoon off after the client presentation.’
Although not totally mollified, Mira
accepted the gesture of her boss with a smile. ‘Thanks boss’ she said ‘I won’t
grumble anymore.’
Lost in her thoughts, Mira almost missed the
crucial turning. But the road was devoid of any traffic and she gleefully
reversed on to the road the GPS lady was screaming at her to take. ‘OK, OK,
I’ve got it’ she muttered to the GPS, now silently happy that she was back on
track once again.
The narrow road winded in and out of the
trees that formed a canopy overhead, filtering the rays of the sun that was
already low on the horizon. Shafts of light danced before her eyes and she
wound the window down, breathing in the slightly damp smell of the forest. Her
GPS said that she was still 30 kilometers away from her destination and on the
screen the road seemed to stretch straight ahead. Mira relaxed as she glanced
at her watch. She had made pretty good time and was not in a rush. She drove
slowly, her thoughts steering to the dance class she would miss that evening.
Mira loved dancing, and as far as she could
remember, had always loved it. Unlike her friends she had always been an avid
watcher of dance programs on the television. She had little or no interest in
the soaps and comedies that her friends watched and discussed incessantly. She
often pestered her parents to take her to watch live programs by famous and not
so famous dancers. Neither of her parents had any interest in dancing but most
of the time they humored her. When she was old enough to travel alone, she
would do her best to see as many live shows as possible. The city she grew up
in had a lot to propose – the numerous dancing clubs and cultural societies sponsored
dance programs either free or at a nominal price. Some of her friends took
private dance lessons, but none of them had any real passion. Mira bombarded
them with questions about what they had learnt, how good their teachers were,
whether they were going to put up shows and would they invite her. ‘Why don’t
you come to my place one day, Mira?’ one of her friends told her. ‘Then you can
see for yourself.’
Mira was totally dazzled by the beautiful
lady who gave her friend dancing lessons. Graceful and supple, her entire body
moved in time with the music. Her fingers traced patterns unseen to the two
young girls, her feet tapped a complex rhythm, her eyes expressed a whole range
of emotions that completely enchanted Mira. The harsh words she used to chide
her student had no effect on Mira – she was mesmerized. And dying to try out
some steps the lady taught. She did not dare to ask, but once she returned
home, she tried to imitate the movements in front of her mother’s dressing
table, hating herself because she looked like a ridiculous puppet. That did not
prevent her from entreating her mother to let her have dance lessons. ‘They are
costly, dear, and we are not that rich, you know’ her mother had said. ‘And in
any case, given your school workload and all the extra-curricular activities,
you won’t have any time for practicing. It is not enough to take lessons, you
know, you have to dedicate time and energy to learn anything well.’
Mira had not argued with her mother or
pointed out that a lot of her school friends do manage to make time for other
activities. She just swallowed her disappointment, and did not discuss the
subject again. Every time a dance performance was put up by the students of her
school, she hoped against hope that she will be asked to participate. But of
course, only those who already knew how to dance were chosen. Mira was good at
a lot of other things – debate, acting, quiz, recitation etc. and duly
participated in performances and competitions. She continued to derive her
pleasure from watching talented dancers on stage and on TV. But the wish to
learn dancing remained alive, and it was after many years, when she started
earning herself, that she indulged in her passion. She joined a class and
hardly ever missed her weekly lesson, and shared her feelings & experiences
with her colleagues. They all knew how much Mira looked forward to it.
Mira suddenly realized that her GPS had been
silent for a very long moment now. She glanced down and sighed. ‘Signal lost’
said the message on the screen. But Rita had told her that this godforsaken
place was actually signposted for the benefit of its rich and famous clients.
She slowed down and looked around her. The road winded through the quiet forest
and she could not see beyond a couple of bends. Almost certain that she had not
seen any other road branching out, Mira drove forward and soon spotted the
small signpost almost hidden by the surrounding trees. She gasped when she saw
the beautiful building looming at the end of the road, more a castle than a
mere hunting lodge. A large intricately designed gate stood partly open
revealing a wide driveway flanked by tall trees and bordered on two sides by
neatly trimmed flower beds that looked like an intricately designed patchwork
quilt. As Mira pulled up under the gracious porch, she could see two long
outbuildings on both sides equipped with horse boxes. An ancient carriage stood
on one side, probably for decorative purposes. A few cars were parked under the
porch, but otherwise not a sound could be heard from inside.
Mira pushed the heavy door and walked into a
beautiful hall. A woman rose from behind a big mahogany desk placed on one side
and waited for Mira to approach her. She greeted Mira politely and told her
that she was the first guest to arrive for the party.
‘It won’t start much before half past seven,
so you’ll have time to freshen up and maybe look around. The grounds here are
very beautiful. Are you staying the night, Miss?’ she asked.
‘No, I have to return tonight. But you’re
right, this looks so charming. Do you have horses here?’
‘Oh yes, there are eight horses here. We
have a small riding school here for professional cavaliers. We look after their
horses.’
‘I will go for a quick walk then and freshen
up afterwards. Can I leave my car under the porch?’
‘Of course’ said the receptionist. ‘Stick to
the path and then you won’t get lost’ she advised.
Mira walked down the path and discovered an
enchanted place. A small river danced in and out of the trees, reflecting the
warm rays of the setting sun. Small arbors with climbing roses were dotted
across a large circular field. The tall trees in the forest towered in the
background, casting long shadows. A large garden of herbs and flowers was
hidden in a small hollow, the air heavy with their fragrance. Mira sat down on
an ornate bench, raised her face to the sun and closed her eyes, a feeling of
pure peace flowing through her entire being. The silence was occasionally
broken by a bird trilling somewhere in the forest, a dog barking far away or the
whinny of a horse from the stable. She reluctantly walked back to the main
building after a time, picking up the small bag containing her dress and her
make-up kit. She went into a sumptuous marble restroom where everything a
person can need to freshen up was neatly arranged on glass shelves under huge
mirrors. Mira looked at herself critically once she had finished dressing. As
always, she felt uncomfortable in the sling backs she had chosen to wear that
night, but otherwise was satisfied with the way she looked. ‘Don’t know why I
should care’ she muttered. ‘I won’t stay long, in any case. Just listen to the
opening speech, have a drink and some nibbles and then I’m off. I wish I was
with the gang now instead, rehearsing for the show.’
When she walked into the large dining room
after stowing her bag in the car, she saw that the room had started filling up.
People kept coming in – alone, in couples or in groups, greeting each other
occasionally. The hum of the conversation started growing. Mira did not recognize
anyone so she quietly drifted towards the back of the room that was still
relatively empty. She picked up a cup of coffee from the large table laden with
all kinds of drinks and spotted a kind of ante-room on her right. She looked
inside- the four walls were covered with paintings. Hoping that she was not
intruding, she moved quietly into the room to look at the pictures, glad to
have something to occupy her before things started in earnest. As she moved
further into the room, she saw that she was not alone.
‘Hi! Are you hiding too or do you really
like paintings?’ said a male voice.
Mira saw a man with a glass of wine in his
hand, leaning against a mantelpiece. Hiding her annoyance, she replied lightly.
‘Neither. I am just waiting for the event to
start. Drifted in here by chance, actually. Are you hiding?’
‘Not really, but I am not too keen to make
small talk right now.’
Mira nodded and started looking at the
pictures which were all hunting scenes, some of them really graphic in their
details of blood and gore. The man stood at one of the windows looking outside
and Mira quietly slipped out. The rostrum was now in place and an elegantly
dressed woman was getting ready to speak. A lot of cameras were already trained
on her and the video team was in place. People were congregating towards the
middle of the room with glasses in hand, some already munching on the snacks
that the drinks table was laden with. The woman gently tapped on the microphone
and the hum of conversation gradually died down.
‘I hope she won’t carry on too long’ said a
voice and she turned around to find the man from the painting room. ‘Speeches
can be tedious sometimes.’
Mira smiled at him, but she was a bit
annoyed. She was not very adept at small talk and was wary of overfriendly men
in any case. He looked harmless enough, though, and did not talk to her while
the speech was on. Ms. Rosa was a good public speaker and made her points
briefly and forcefully. Her speech was followed by donations and promises from
affluent individuals and some private companies. Mira applauded
enthusiastically and reflected that maybe with all this money Ms. Rosa will
have some means to continue her crusade. After the speech, people drifted
around, drinking, nibbling, and greeting each other. Conscious that she was
here in official capacity, Mira tried to mingle, introducing herself and her
company. None of the conversations lasted for long, and after about half an
hour, Mira reckoned that her duty was done. She was ravenously hungry by this
time, and after a bit of jostling, managed to get some food on a plate. She had
a long drive back home, but couldn’t resist a glass of champagne. All the
little tables were by now occupied, and she decided to carry her plate and
glass out on the terrace where a few smokers were dragging furiously on their
cigars and cigarettes, anxious to get back into the main hall. She found a
small table in a corner and put down her plate and glass. It was a clear night
and the lawn was mottled with the milky moonlight. Mira inhaled the autumn
scents - a mixture of damp soil and rotting leaves. She breathed deeply and
turned to her plate. She watched the scene inside the hall through the plate
glass window – people eating, drinking, talking, and flitting from one table to
another. Mira felt a slight twinge of guilt – she should be doing the same –
networking with potential clients. But it was getting a bit late, and she had a
long drive back home. So she concentrated on her food instead…
*************************************************************************************
The garden looked really enchanting. Tiny
solar powered lights lined the pathway to the stables. The forest loomed dark
in the distance. A pool of yellow light from a room upstairs backlit a climbing
rose on a trellis. Mira looked at her watch and almost against her better
judgment, stepped out onto the lawn. The velvety scented darkness was like a
healing hand after the noisy interior. She walked towards the stables, wanting
to look at the beautiful horses before she left. She almost knocked into the
man coming from the other direction. It was the same man. Again!
‘Sorry, sorry’ he said and smiled when he
saw Mira. ‘Hey, so we meet again. I see you couldn’t resist walking out
either.’
‘I was going to look at the horses’ Mira
said. ‘They are so beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘Oh, I’ll come with you too. Yes, they are
absolutely majestic.’
‘So, do you have a name, young lady? He
asked; ‘I am Luke. Nice to meet you.’
‘My name is Mira. Nice to meet you too,
Luke.’ She said politely.
They reached the stable. The horses were
quiet now, probably settling down for the night. Mira could see their shadowy
forms and huge eyes. Their tails swished gently as they thrust their heads
outside their stalls. Mira tentatively stroked a wet muzzle and suddenly
realized that her companion had remained totally immobile. She turned and
looked at him. The man was gazing silently at the horses, a strange look on his
face. Mira touched his arm impulsively. ‘Are you all right, Luke?’
He shook his head slowly, as if coming out
of a dream.
‘I used to be a show jumper in what seems an
earlier life now, Mira. I wasn’t too bad, actually. Horses were part of my
life. I too love them.’
‘You don’t ride anymore? Why?’ Mira asked
before she could stop and reflect whether it was really polite to intrude.
‘Hope you don’t think I’m intruding?’ she added hastily.
‘No. I had a very bad fall and fractured my
legs. My horse had to be put down. She was magnificent, almost a part of
myself. I gave up riding after that.’
‘I’m so sorry. Must have been really tough
for you.’ Mira said sincerely.
He nodded and looked at her. ‘Riding was my
passion. What about you, Mira? Do you have a passion in your life? I feel you
have.’
‘I love dancing. I don’t know if it can be
called a passion, but I have loved it since I was a child. Of course, I didn’t
train to be a professional dancer, although I would have dearly liked it. I
would have given anything to become one, you know. Never had the chance,
though’ she said wistfully.
‘You can still learn’ said Luke. ‘You’re
still young, and as they say, it is never too late to start learning.’
‘I do go to a dance class, actually. I
joined quite a few years back, and I’m not a bad dancer either, or so my
teacher says’ Mira replied lightly. She found it surprisingly easy to talk to
this total stranger.
‘Ah, so you are a dancer. Look, this is so
strange and fortuitous – some of my friends run an amateur theater group, and
they are staging a musical. They are desperately looking for someone to replace
one of their dancers who broke her collarbone a few days back, and won’t be
able to dance for the next few months. They are auditioning people right now.
Do you want to try?’
Mira stared at him. All her life she had
wanted to perform on stage, in the lime light, with a spellbound audience
watching her perform. The music, the heady atmosphere, the costumes, the
make-up, and above all the oblivion of losing herself in the music. In a flash
she visualized a darkened hall, a lighted stage, herself in some wondrous
costume. Her eyes sparkled.
‘Ohhhhhh. What a kind offer, Luke. But I’m
probably not good enough. Your friends will only laugh at me. No, I won’t
dare.’
The man standing next to her looked at her
strangely. ‘Mira’, he said gravely ‘we don’t know each other but I don’t make
idle offers. There are a few women in that hall right now who are accomplished
dancers. I know. But I am asking you.’
A shiver ran down Mira’s spine. This was
getting too weird. Although she was a firm believer in chance encounters, this
was way beyond what she ever believed.
‘I don’t know what to say, Luke. I am
tempted, very tempted, actually. If only I could get someone to show me things…
I attend this dance class, true, but its only once a week and there is a lot
more banter and goofing around than learning to dance in earnest. In fact, I
have often regretted that, you know. People are there to have a laugh and a
good time more than anything else.’
‘I know someone who can teach you if that is
what you need. But she is a stern master, and won’t accept anyone who doesn’t
have a passion.’
‘Luke, I do appreciate this. But I am not
rich. I can’t afford to pay for private lessons. Thank you so much.’
He shrugged. ‘As you please’, he said. ‘My
Dad always taught me not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Have a great
evening, Mira.’ And with that he walked away. And Mira suddenly realized that
they had not even exchanged their business cards!
*************************************************************************************
As Mira drove back home later, she could not
get the strange meeting out of her head. As usual, the two Miras started
arguing in her head - the bold and the timorous; the adventurous and the
cautious; the techie and the aspiring artist; the girl and the woman. ‘Oh, shut
up, both of you’ she said aloud. ‘Yes, OK, I refused to take a try. I am a
craven;’ She smiled in spite of herself – the ‘Game of Thrones’ vocabulary was
becoming hers as well…
The next day, Rita commanded her to take the
afternoon off. The client presentation had gone incredibly well, the account
was theirs. A big contract too, so Rita opened a bottle of champagne that she
kept for her special clients, and there was a lot of hand shaking and back
thumping and high fives. They went to the local Sushi bar – the whole project
team, and simply gorged on whatever the restaurant had to offer. She bid
goodbye to her colleagues and set off, wondering what she was going to do with
her afternoon. It was a glorious autumn day, too wonderful to spend indoors and
in the shops. She decided to go for a walk in the forest, eager to walk on the
carpet of fallen leaves, meeting people walking down the paths with baskets on
their arms, collecting edible mushrooms that grew in abundance in the shady
groves. As she walked into her house to change, her work phone rang. The screen
flashed Gina’s name.
‘Hey gorgeous, sorry to bother you, but I
have a very urgent message from someone called Luke. Said he met you last
evening. He has left an address and said that you need to go there at five if
you want to go ahead with the project you talked about. Hey honey, what’s going
on? Are you hiding something from your old friend?’
Mira was totally foxed. She was certain that
she had not given Luke her visiting card. But he could have easily got her work
number from the guest list.
‘Nothing’s going on, Ginny. Will you text me
the address please?’
‘Of course. You sound a tad secretive,
lovely. What project?’
‘Look, I was going to go for a walk while
the sun shines. I’ll tell you tomorrow. Deal?’
‘If you insist. Have a great afternoon,
Mira. We’ll have lunch tomorrow together, OK? You can tell me all about it
then.’
*************************************************************************************
Mira finally found the house, outside a
really rundown village where most of the houses were shuttered, with rusting
gates and overgrown gardens. It was a small cottage much like the others she
had passed on the way. She felt apprehensive as she got out of the car, almost
wishing she had not come. ‘At worst, they will say I’m not good enough, and
then I shall be cured of this ridiculous ambition’ she told herself as she
knocked on the door. It was almost immediately opened by a woman who smiled at
her warmly. ‘Come in, Mira. I was waiting for you.’ She was dressed in white,
silvery white hair tumbled down to her shoulders. The room was large, with
almost no furniture. ‘Perfect for dance rehearsals’ thought Mira. ‘Thank you
for receiving me’ she said aloud. ‘Luke insisted that I should come for the
audition. But I am not a professional dancer, and maybe I’ll just waste your
time. But I do love dancing and…’
The older woman raised a hand. ‘Don’t fret,
Mira. I am not here to judge. Luke asked me to meet you, and maybe I can help
you in some small way. He said that you are really passionate about dance. Are
you?’
‘Yes, I am. I have always loved dancing, but
never had the opportunity to train properly. I take lessons now, but it is more
of a hobby than anything else. Luke said that your troupe was auditioning for
someone to replace one of their dancers. I don’t even know if I’m any good…’
‘I am not part of any troupe, and there are
no auditions here. I am a teacher.’
Mira stared at her. ‘Oh dear, there must
have been some misunderstanding then. I thought…’
‘Well, now that you’re here, show me what
you can do, Mira. I shall put on some music, and you dance. Don’t worry about
what you have learned and what you have not. Do you want to try?’
‘I can try, but as I told you’ she started.
‘I heard what you told me. But before you
start, we need to do something together’ said the older woman. ‘Come with me,
Mira.’
She led Mira into a small room at the back
of the house. In the centre of the room stood a shelf with fragile glass doors.
Small figurines were arranged on the shelves – Mira recognized several –
Terpsichore with her lyre, dancing Apsaras, a bronze Nataraj, and the three
Muses. There was a stone vase in one corner filled with water and flower
petals. The woman dipped her fingers in the water and asked Mira to do the
same. ‘Open those glass doors now, Mira. Let the Gods and Goddesses of dance
bless you.’
By now Mira was in a kind of daze, and did
not hesitate even for a second. The doors opened with a beautiful tinkling
sound. The room seemed to grow brighter, and for a moment Mira thought that
their eyes had come alive and was looking at her. ‘Now let us see you dance’
said her companion. They walked back into the front room and the music started.
Later, Mira could not remember what she did.
The music spoke to her – tales of love, desire, wars, betrayal, reconciliation
and forgiveness. At one point the older woman joined in, an ethereal figure in
dazzling white, light as air, graceful as a moon beam, her feet hardly touching
the ground. Mira followed the movements blindly, totally lost in the complex
rhythm. The walls around her seemed to disappear – she was dancing in a forest,
beside a sunlit stream, in a fragrant garden, under a bright blue sky. And when
finally the music stopped, she sank to the floor, totally drained and weeping.
The woman put a hand on her head. ‘You have been touched by the Gods’ she
whispered gently.
After what seemed an eternity, Mira stood
up. It was dark outside. The room was bathed in a pearly light of a lamp stood
in one corner. The older woman sat on a low chair, looking at her. ‘You did
very well, Mira. I can now see why Luke sent you here. You were born to dance,
I can see that. I can teach you more if you like. But the spirit of dance is
already in you.’
Mira simply nodded her head. At the door she
said ‘I don’t even know your name. But thank you.’
‘You can call me Sara. Come back tomorrow if
you want to. I shall be here for as long as you need me.’
*************************************************************************************
I am one Mira’s numerous students. She is
now old herself, and is considered to be one of the finest dancers of her
generation. She made critics sit up when she performed in a musical tragedy
staged by some amateur group long time back. That was the only show she did.
She gave up her job and devoted herself to her art and later to teaching others
to dance. She told me this story on dark stormy winter evening while the wind
howled outside and lightning slashed an ominous sky.
‘You are the first person to hear the entire
story, child’ she told me as I sat there drinking in her words. ‘Because nobody
has ever heard the end till today. After that first day, I went back to that
little cottage several times. In fact, my entire existence was centered on the
hours I spent with my Teacher. I auditioned for that musical and was accepted
instantly. The next day I visited her to give her the news. ‘I am happy, Mira.
You don’t need me anymore.’
‘Don’t say that, please. How can you? I need
you more than ever now. I have to do this show.’
‘I am going away for a few days, Mira.
Concentrate on your rehearsals, give yourself fully. Maybe we shall see each
other sometime soon. Maybe not. My Gods have blessed you; don’t ever forget
that.’
‘I got caught up in the whirlwind of
rehearsals, shows, interviews and parties’ said Mira. ‘I didn’t have time to
visit my Teacher for a few months. And then, when things calmed down, I made my
way to the little cottage. I had bought an enormous bouquet of white irises –
she loved them – and a scrapbook of pictures and reviews of the show. I wanted
her to be proud of me. But…’
‘Oh, please go on’, I cried ‘was she proud?
Did she give a big hug?’
‘I never found her’ she said. ‘The cottage
looked abandoned and totally dilapidated. The roof was falling down. The garden
was so overgrown that I could hardly push the gate open. I couldn’t believe my
eyes. It was only a few months since I visited her last. It was evident that no
one had lived in that house for a very long time. It seemed impossible.’
‘You went to the wrong house then?’ I asked.
‘No. how could it be the wrong house? I had
been there umpteen numbers of times. I got into my car, bewildered, and on my
way back I stopped in the small café in the centre of the village. I asked the
old men sitting there about Sara. I described the house. They looked at me like
I was mad. ‘But that house has been in ruins for at least two decades now’ they
said. ‘And no one called Sara has ever lived in this village, as far as we
remember.’
‘How can that be, Ma’am? Did you call up
Luke? He could have explained things to you. Maybe it was a ruse – Sara didn’t
want others to know?’
‘You can never hide yourself in a small
village, child’ she said. ‘I never found Luke either.’
I stared at her, feeling goose bumps all
over my body.
‘I never had his number, remember? I asked
the members of my group – they knew a couple of men called Luke, and I called
them. They did not know me, or so they said. I checked up with the hotel where
I had first met him – they did not have anyone called Luke on their guest list.
Gina & I traced back the number he had called from our call log, but when I
called it was not in service.’
For a moment, I wondered if she had made up
the story. But then, why should she?
While I was listening to her story, the
storm had spent itself. Now an almost full moon shone through the torn cloud
blankets and made its way through the uncurtained glass windows, illuminating
my teacher’s serene face. I no longer doubted one single word she had said…
[APARAJITA SEN]
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