The Nightmare

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I step out onto the final audition stage. No crowds yet, just the three judges, who are very easily recognisable. 

"Sankalp Chanana, is it?" the middle judge asks me.

"Yes, Ma'am," I reply.

"We look forward to seeing your performance," says the judge on her right. He smiles kindly at me.

The judge at the left of the table calls for music.

I start my routine, just like I had practiced. The right moves, at the right beat. I feel like my body was pulsing with the music, just like I always do, which is the specialty about my style. But after I finish, the judges don't feel the same.

The middle judge said, "I'm sorry, Sankalp, but we have to send you home for revision."

Mama and Papa get me, and we walk out. In my head, the word 'no' is ringing like a bell.

What did I do wrong?

That's the nightmare that wakes me up. And that's what jolts me up from bed, sweating and breathing hard, as if I am still there. But so does my watch, beeping madly under my pillow.

"Sankalp! Time for practice!" Papa shouts from the other room. Mama's up too, for I can smell aloo parathas cooking on the tava. Sayra must be awake as well.

All right, then. Time for undoing what I had done.

Signed,

Melody Vega


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