‘I would like to sing to you,” she said looking at me. I have to confess, I was a bit confused “Why?” But, I nodded, “Yes”, because, that just felt right while she gathered a book with a bright front cover. She settled in a chair next to me, rested her left hand on my hand, cleared her throat and she began. After the first couple of verses, she paused, smiled and she began again — modulating her voice with perfection. What I thought would be a one off song became a 20-minute musical journey. What’s more, it was melodious and enjoyable.
My aunt has never been like this. In fact, back in the days when I was a little girl she was more of an athlete and a good painter. Singing? I had no idea. My aunt or Seetha as I call her, is dad’s youngest sibling. She is short, plump, with a pair of expressive eyes and an even set of teeth. She and I went to the same school back then, and our house had an array of family members.
The earliest memory I have of Seetha is hovering over her as she sat engrossed with a paint brush. On lazy Sunday afternoons, my sister and I would peer over her shoulder while she sat cross legged on the floor bending over a white sheet of paper, drawing pictures looking at popular magazines. I don’t remember much of her paintings but I surely recall people praising her artistic ability. If that was not all, Seetha excelled in sports too. Her agility in the field had earned her the nickname — “Scooter”.
“But, Scooters can’t sing”, I thought.
“I had no idea you sing Seetha,” I told her.
“Well,” she laughed.
“And, you did a good job too! I thought you could only run and paint. But, this is incredible!” I stood up shaking my head.
“I have been training,” Seetha said thoughtfully, “and guess what?” she looked up ready to throw another surprise, “I am learning to dance as well,” she announced excitedly.
I was quiet. I was pretty sure she was joking.
“No. Really,” she nudged me. She picked up her phone and quickly played a video.
Five women — all in their forties, moved their hands and feet to the rhythmic beats of the Indian classical dance of Bharatanatyam. And, standing behind a tall woman was none other than Seetha, my aunt.
“It is you,” I whispered as I watched the three-minute video. She was graceful, expressive and most of all her eyes beamed with joy.
“You are a good dancer too!” I looked at her in shock, because, somehow the trajectory of her with two fast feet and a paint brush in hand to music and dance just didn’t add up.
“I know,” she said a bit shy, “and I am enjoying it even more learning it from my daughter.”
That evening, as I stood in awe watching my short and plump aunt happily express herself, I wondered about women, dreams, the hunger to learn and the perseverance. I am sure there are many women behind closed doors who do remarkable things and the only thing that gets in their way is the everyday rigmarole of life. My aunt Seetha had finally found a way to make way for those dreams and passion amidst all the clutter that surrounds her life. She may have taught her daughter to walk but is happy to learn some of the toughest dance moves from her daughter. She may be a great friend to her neighbour but reveres the lady for teaching her some of the toughest musical notes.
As I left their house, I felt a strange warmth in my heart. I am so glad Seetha wanted to sing for me. There is something very endearing when women who stay home and take care of families finally pursue their passion. I am sure Seetha has much more up her sleeve than just song and dance. I will not be surprised if I get a message from her announcing that she is all set to run a marathon. And I hope she does because Seetha represents the dreams that we can make happen.
Sudha Subramanian is a freelance writer based in Dubai and the author of Life...full of commas. Twitter: @sudhasubraman.
