I am not a great musician; I am not even able to play any musical instrument. In fact, I come from a family where music and dance was looked upon as something disdainful, something unworthy to be pursued in life. A central belief, held firmly by my father, was that good girls don’t dance – especially not in public.
As a child then I did not dance – not at parties, not at weddings, not even at home. Sometimes however, when the elders were away, my cousins and I used to close the door, increase the volume on the stereo and dance like crazy.
I know, it sounds cliched. Nonetheless, it is true. My father did not like dance or music of any kind and he did not want to see it at his house. But I like music – I love it. In the mornings, my cousin used to turn on the radio at home and to me it would give a whole different feel to the morning.
It allows us to express our feelings, it allows us to lose ourselves in it and forget worries. A simple tune playing in the background can have such an effect. I grew up without having dance classes, without knowledge of the different genres of music, but I still find that when I listen to music I feel like dancing. My feet just automatically begin moving – not to any particular dance – but just moving, expressing life. Music, I think, is the expression of life.