They believed, so it happened.
When we were younger, our parents asked us if we wanted to a pilot or an engineer or a doctor or even the prime minister of India. With the plantation of the idea that one can be a part of the society if one is ‘only’ one of these things was a reality we all lived with and never cared to give it a second thought. Growing older, we realized that we had a perpetual feeling of sadness in our hearts. From waking up in the morning to going to sleep at night, everything seemed to give us momentary happiness whereas we searched for the long-term answer to our gloomy, dull nature.
Such was my journey of living in a conservative family who didn’t think beyond the designated status quo of the society. I fortunately graduated from college and got ready to embark upon one of these million paths to prove my family that I am what they made me and I will forever and ever make them proud. Somewhere along the line of working a full-time job, I realized that I was growingly underappreciated and despondent. The conundrum of ‘If not this, then what?’ dawned upon me like a monstrous spirit slowly creeping into your empty room until that’s all we all can see.
With much strength, I quit. I really really quit. I woke up one fine morning and applied to CRY for an internship, all this while not knowing what I was getting myself into. Without further ado, I’ll tell you the happy ending of this rather dull story.
I was to teach dance to kids at Tigri who, more often than not, showed up for my classes even when I seriously doubted my abilities to impart knowledge of possibly anything. They believed I could do it, so I did it. I taught them dance. But they taught me life. They taught me struggle. They taught me happiness.
I want to put something out there before anyone questions it- this is it, guys. Just stop. Just stop whatever you’re doing and think. Can you imagine learning something so marvelous from kids that are 12 years and under? Can you learn to forgive and live from a YouTube video or an acquaintance that lives in your phone but seldom in your heart? My lifelong search of happiness is over. This is it for me.
The kids at Tigri will forever stay in my heart and as long as they are there, I don’t think I can ever be sad again. The way they greet you is like snow in summers! The way they smile is like Santa Claus in Disney land! And the way they dance, my oh my, you will wish you’d ever have to leave.
But then, we do.
We leave and hope to come back but rarely do. We leave and the kids scoop out a piece of our heart and secretly hide it away just to look at it constantly so we are reminded of a happier world somewhere.
Basically what I’m trying to say is that,
I would’ve sucked being the Prime Minister of India.
Ridhi Aggarwal, CRY Intern, Delhi