I love dancing, and I love writing. Mom thought a dance lesson was in order for a tomboyish little girl– never thought that I’d be hooked for life. Those rigorous, muscle-bending classical Balinese numbers has since been followed by waltz, cha-cha, merengue, salsa, a brief stint of flamenco and West African earthy moves, and these days, Bollywood Bhangra and Egyptian bellydancing. Except for the utterly uninspiring, melody-less and meaningless thump-thump of techno or house music, think almost all kinds of music makes me dance.
Writing came later in life, though reading was always a huge part and Dad has long been a published writer and author. The highschool’s fleeting bulletin was the first stop. In college there were attempts at fiction, though I only had the guts to show them to one very trusted friend (and fellow literary diehard). A beau even remarked that my love notes resembled more of short stories. Yet writing took a backseat for years during the pursuits of higher education and MNC career. Until it resurfaced in 2005. And this time, I’m not letting it slip away again.
So I’ve been scribbling. About anything that tickles, bugs, or even infuriates me. Just like when the right tune is on, my body would sway– when the right issue floats by, it’s my mind that would do the dancing. Even if it may not always pay the bills. Tweet