The Muse's Melody

Hullo! Okay, so I open the blog, and I see the last post was 6 months ago, and first I feel guilty, then I feel shamed, and then I decide to write. I soon realize that this is a fantastic topic, as who knows how many people have ballerinas as their muses? So, here comes The Muse's Melody from The Pencil.

(Of course, I can't write this without acknowledging my in-house ballerina and treasure trove of ballet history, Priyanshi Parikh. She has been a massive help, and I hope I was able to capture some of the feeling I've seen in her when she dances.)

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The ballerina took a breath as she recounted her journey. Her father sitting on an old rickety stool as he grinned at her over the canvas, "My little muse. One day you shall get far." 

The first day at training, the falls and the pain. The practice and the music. The world of her own are disappeared to. The way she felt like her soul was taking flight. How the music filled her up and made her feel complete. The grace, and Miss Hudson going, "Chin up, and never look down."

Hearing the first notes on the ancient teakwood piano and going, "This is joy, this is my life." 

The first dress, the first pair of shoes. The first milestone. She looked in the mirror and saw someone else, but pledged to be that person. Her mother's words, "You look beautiful."

The times when you feel as if nothing can go right. Again and again but to no avail. Her heart cried at the thought of giving up. As she picked herself off the floor, the determination to try just one more time. And that was all you needed, most of the time.

She remembered her father's last words,"Still my little muse." She also remembered the crying and tears later. She didn't know that was the fire that tempered the steel.

After years, she was porcelain, but unbreakable. She was marble, but uncrackable. She was used to the music  and the way it sounded like a lover's comforting whisper, but still not used to the rush of pure unadultered joy. Once she began, she felt like a river in the heat of monsoon, rushing away like nothing could stop her. How she expressed so many emotions in a single move. The world went silent and it was only her and the music. 

After the struggles and challenges, she was here. As she walked onto that stage with her head held high, the muse danced her heart out. She danced to her own melody, and found peace.
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