Sometimes I have these urges -- to do something simply because everyone else around me is doing it.

In more intellectual terms, this is known as the “bandwagon effect”.

But yes, at the distinguished age of eight, I attended my first kathak class because I didn’t want to feel left out in my new apartment, with my new set of friends, who had all simultaneously joined this dance class.

Four years and 2 institutions later, I positively hated kathak. Maybe it was because of covid which made everything online, maybe it was the seeds of self-doubt which planted themselves and grew their gnarly roots. Maybe it was just the one-step chakkar, which felt as daunting and unachievable as climbing Mt. Everest. I cannot be certain what caused this enigma, but I was struggling to understand why I was dancing.

My mom pushed me to attend the classes, I became equally determined to push back, and blamed her for my failures. In retrospect, if she hadn’t intervened, I would not have continued to dance and my life right now would be colorless and dull, much like your average corporate job.

I reached 9th grade, now I had bigger things to worry about such as my sleep schedule, and the fact that I had to actually talk to people face to face. Kathak took a step down on my list of things to worry about, and somehow during those months it started getting easier. I looked forward to dancing, I wanted to be the best at it. Not to mention, I could now do ten one-step chakkars.

As I danced, the sound of each tabla beat resonated deeply within me. My body swayed naturally to the melody of the sitar. The jingle of my ghungroo bells drowned out any anxious thoughts and feelings. My mind was fully engrossed, and it felt exhilarating. It felt serene.

Once I experienced it, it was a high I couldn’t leave. I worked harder than ever, but most of all I enjoyed every second of it.

Now? I procrastinate chemistry worksheets by dancing to my heart’s content. And guess what? Those group of girls that I joined kathak for, most of them left a long time ago and I don’t talk to them.

Well, what I intend to convey with this isn’t that you should do something purely because of parental pressure and societal acceptance. I want to say that finding a passion can take time, (sweat, blood, tears, maybe even a mental breakdown). Take it one day at a time. If you don’t give up, you’ll  definitely persevere.  Try whatever you can, quit if you want to, but give your best in whatever you do, and you’ll figure it out :)