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Dancing queenThink back to when you were a little child. Whenever you were asked what you wanted to be when you grew up. Now, are you fol...

Dancing queen

Think back to when you were a little child. Whenever you were asked what you wanted to be when you grew up. Now, are you following the path you thought you would? Perhaps you are, but more likely than not, you aren8217;t. Ever wondered why? Sure you grew up. You owed your parents. Dreams of a child are just that, dreams. Millions of reasons. Sometimes not a happy ending though. Look around at all the unhappiness, maybe people would be happier if they did follow their dreams. Stress is often caused by our toeing the line and suppressing true desires.

Shanta Mishra was born and brought up in Singapore. As a child it was apparent that music and rhythm were an intrinsic part of her very being. She just could not stop dancing. At the age of five she went on to train in various dance forms. Bharat Natyam, Kathakali. She says her only moments of reality were when she was dancing. Yet she never thought in terms of dance being her entire focus. She got married in her mid-twenties and gave updance altogether. Because she thought that is what you do. Support your spouse in his career. It never even struck her that she might miss it. Yet there was some sort of hurt and denial happening. Shanta is tall, lissome, graceful, doe-eyed and the quintessential image of what one thinks a dancer would be. One look at her and people would automatically ask do you dance8217;. She would find herself replying in the negative. The subconscious pain of not dancing started to extend further. She could not even bear to watch a dance performance.

Yet strangely enough, she still did not think about going back to it. The stress took its toll. Ill health was dogging her life. Until one day when she was in a hospital, she thought to herself die or dance8217;. Oddly, there had been no agonising over her previous decision. Just a stark revelation which came almost like a snap of the fingers, after four years of not dancing, but slowly sinking. This was not an easy decision to make. Her body was out of shape, her mind even moreso. The rest of her story is one of surmounting odds so fierce that most mortals would have wilted.

Suffice to give one example 8212; as yet she had not learnt the Kuchipudi. She went to Raja and Radha Reddy, the great artistes of this form and asked to be taught. Sure, they said, give it a year or two. No, said Shanta, it was mid-January, and she wanted to perform by mid-April! Impossible said Raja Reddy. But Shanta did it. To rave reviews, in her first ever performance in India, her motherland. Today she is still dancing, has made a film on dance and still has many dreams to fulfill. She calls herself a conformist who now questions her conformity. How can it possibly make, those who love her, happy at seeing her deny herself all that she loves?

The Melody Man

Dennis Taraporewala and music were twins inseparable. From the age of six he learned the guitar, piano, harmonium, tabla, accordion, drums8230; phew! At 13 he was composing. Dennis is one of the few Indians to have performed live at FortuneTheatre, West End, London. He has an impressive collection of musical awards under his belt.

He did his MBA from Australia and then worked for a top advertising agency in Bombay. Got married to a delightful creature early this year. I heard him play his own compositions twice, recently. He is at crossroads today. A few months ago he quit his job to concentrate on music. It takes guts. He has a dream. But meanwhile, how does he put bread on the table? Reality can be a daunting and a starving thing, right? Currently he is composing jingles and short film tracks. But as to pulling off an album? Music companies say his music is not what people like to hear. Yet I have watched the man play to live audiences 8212; the response is amazing. He reaches out and touches them. So what should Dennis do? The irony is that he quit his job to compose better. Yet he says that he wrote better stuff when he was starved for time. Inactivity brings its own ghosts. Struggling artists in a garret and angst are not necessarilyeverybody8217;s thing.

The colour of blue

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Hyderabad Blues is a truly delightful film playing in Bombay these days. A sweet simple film, what8217;s not to like? Brings to memory a story about the censors and Nagesh Kukkunoor, the director. The Andhra censor board objected to the word Blue8217; in his title. Very vulgar, they thought. Please change it. Nagesh patiently explained the other8217; connotations 8212; the colloquial expression implying emotion and mood. That got the dander up of the censors, even more. What, they said, are you saying that everyone who comes to Hyderabad becomes depressed? Whoa! Damned if you do, and damned if you don8217;t.