Reality Reel - Part 2
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6. Impossible Every Way
“Are you sure you weren’t seeing things, Sankalp?” Papa asks me intently.
I shake my head. “If I was, I wouldn’t be telling you.”
“Beta.” Mama touches my hand. “I know Chapter 3 was not easy for you, and it’s understandable you may sense these things—”
I pull my hand away. “Mama, it’s not like that. I know what I saw. Inderpal told me something about a Super Dancer ad, and I kept an eye on the TV to see if it was true. And it is.” I turn to Papa. “We can check on Sony LIV if you want to make sure.”
Mama looks at Papa. “If he says it’s true…”
Papa takes a deep breath and opens his phone. We wait anxiously as he goes through Sony LIV’s banners. Suddenly, he freezes.
“Papa?” I prompt, expectant.
“Sunil?” Mama asks, worried.
Papa exhales. “Sankalp… you’re right.”
“So…” I say slowly. “Are the auditions… open?”
He presses his lips together. “Yes.”
What? It’s true? The auditions are actually there?
I jump to my feet, bursting with happiness inside. “There’s no way!”
Papa smiles. “You better believe it.” I grin back.
“What is the process?” Mama asks Papa.
Papa scrolls through the text. “It seems that in light of COVID-19 regulations, there will be three audition rounds instead of two.”
“Why three?” I ask.
“Because the first round is a virtual audition. We send a video in this registration form we have to fill. Thereafter, well… we will be notified for the second round.”
“Great! So, what are we going to do? Which song?” I walk back and forth between Mama and Papa, rattling off my best rehearsals.
“Arey, arey, arey! Not so fast.” Mama grabs my arm to stop my pacing, and squeezes it. Hard.
I pause. “What are you talking about, Mama?”
She sighs, shaking her head. “Did you two forget there’s a pandemic in the middle of all of this?”
Papa and I look at each other. “Neetu, we did not forget—“ Papa starts, but Mama cuts him off.
“What if Sankalp gets selected? I bet you will have to travel to Mumbai for the next round. Look at the cases! And I’m not risking Sankalp’s health—or Sayra’s, for that matter. She’s one year old, for God’s sake, Sunil. What if she gets sick?” Her voice rises with every word, and frankly, it’s scaring me. “What will we do?”
“Gah?” A small voice chirps behind us. We turn and see Sayra, sitting on the floor outside the drawing room. We left the door open in case we needed to get her, but apparently, she decided to come herself.
I go and scoop her up. “How did you get here?” I ask her playfully.
Mama shoots me a withering look. “We are not done yet, Sankalp.”
Papa sighs. “Beta, how about you go outside? Indian Idol must’ve started again.” He puts a hand to his forehead. “I’ll speak with your mother alone.”
It’s my turn to glare at them. “What? Papa, I should have a say too! This is my audition we’re talking about. The three of us need to take decisions!” I’m practically shouting at them, and it’s scaring Sayra, who’s beginning to cry.
“Sankalp, go.” Papa’s tone has an edge to it now. A don’t you dare one. At that point, I know it’s best if I leave the talking to my parents.
I swallow hard and nod. “Okay, Papa.”
I head out and close the door. Rocking Sayra gently and humming to her, I calm her down. She looks at me, scared, like I’m going to yell at her next. And I realise I shouldn’t have lost my temper, because it upset her.
We sit back on the sofa and I set Sayra down. I don’t unmute the TV, because I want Mama and Papa to have a clear, disturbance-free talk. They’ll tell me everything later. We made a solemn promise, back when we got home from the final auditions of Super Dancer 3.
Now, I have to figure out how to explain it all to Sayra, who is looking at me like she wants to know about what happened with me and my parents.
“Bhai?” Sayra asks me, tapping my hand.
I pat her cheek. “Sorry, Sayra. I’m just frustrated. The auditions are back, but this COVID-19 has messed it all up now. It’s like anything can’t be done without a sanitiser, a mask, or a negative RT-PCR test. Everything simple back before 2020 is now impossible every way.”
Sayra tilts her head. She’s probably getting it.
“Look, Mama knows I’ll get selected. That doesn’t hurt. She’s confident about my talent. That’s good. But the problem is, if I get selected, I might have to go to Mumbai, and we can’t risk it. I might get sick. Papa and Mama might get sick. However, that’s the least of our worries. What hurts is that if you come, you might get sick. And because you’re so young…” I swallow hard. Best not to say it out loud.
Sayra sucks her thumb. She does get it. She knows the dangers of COVID. I smoothen her fine black hair.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s… grown-up stuff. Badon ki baat.” I cringe at the last part, because it always upset me when Mama and Papa ever said that. But Sayra’s a baby. She needs to have her childhood uninterrupted by anything. Her innocence shouldn’t be gone so early.
Sayra’s life… it shouldn’t become a life where she worries about auditions and her practice, and she never plays with her friends anymore. It shouldn’t be like mine.
I must make sure of that.
7. A Final Decision
The next morning, I wake up to some good news from Papa and Mama.
As I eat my oats, Mama starts speaking. She holds a cup of warm chai.
“Your father and I have been talking,” she says slowly. “And we’ve decided—“ She takes a sip. “—to send your video for the first round.”
I drop my spoon. “Does that mean I’m participating?”
Mama nods. “But don’t get too excited. When you get selected, we have made further plans. Ones which might upset you…” She sighs. “Let’s put that aside for now.”
“If I get selected.” I pick up my spoon and continue eating.
“When,” Papa says, suddenly arriving from the living room. “Sankalp, tumne khud ko doubt karna kab shuru kiya?”
I shrug. “It’s far too confident to start thinking I’ll make it on the first try. We need to slow down. Maybe last night I felt I could do better than Season 3. But now?” My stomach flops around nervously, like the way Mama moulds dough for making rotis. “I’m not so sure.”
Papa drums his fingers on the table. “Well, I have been thinking. We should do ‘Whistle Baja’ for the first round. A little fusion is all right, but I want to let your style shine. That’s the main point.”
“And when are the results coming?” I ask.
“Two weeks after we send in the form. I filled it out yesterday, after your mother and I were done talking.”
I nod, absorbing it all. This isn’t a dream anymore. It’s real. I am auditioning for Super Dancer’s fourth season.
Mama leans forward. “There’s a reason we named you Sankalp. It means resolution. And you did make a resolution, perhaps focused on it too seriously, but you made it. Now, we feel that this chance of an audition are the results of it.” She smiles. “We are proud of your hard work, whether you get selected or not.”
I smile back. “Thanks, Mama and Papa. I will do whatever it takes to fulfil that resolution.”
“Then let’s get to it.” My father thumps my shoulder and gets up. “I’ll be outside.”
I finish my oats, but stop before I put the bowl back. I turn to Papa.
“Do you mind if I can stay back after warmup? There’s someone I need to talk to.”
At 7 am on the dot, I ring the bell on Inderpal’s gate. Ashima Aunty comes out.
“Oh, Sankalp! Inder is in his room.” She unlocks the gate and I step in.
“Aunty, if that’s so, I’ll go around to his door. He usually prefers it there.” I thank her before running off to the side of the house near their pretty garden, where Inderpal’s room is. This time, I knock on the door there.
Inderpal opens it sleepily. “Hey, Sankalp.” He jerks upright, and rubs his eyes. “Wait, I’m not dreaming?”
I laugh. “No, you aren’t, dummy.”
“Shouldn’t you be at home?” He asks.
“Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you.”
He nods, then closes the door behind him. “Let me guess, it’s about the audition?”
“Yeah. I… um… I saw the ad.” I rub the back of my neck.
His eyes widen. “Man, you must’ve gotten a real shock.”
I shake my head and grin. “Yeah, bro. My parents were pretty shaken.”
Inderpal chews his lip. “But I’m guessing there’s more.”
It’s my turn to nod. “Yeah. I’ve applied for the first round.”
He blinks. “Please tell me I’m still dreaming.”
“Nah, man. It’s true,” I say quickly. “I have to send a video for the first round, then we’ll be notified about the second. Mama was pretty worried at first, but she says if I get accepted, we’ll figure out a plan if we need to go to Mumbai. But there are so many ifs on the line, and I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to even make it.” I take a deep breath. “Anyway, that’s all.”
Inderpal pats my shoulder. “Dude, you don’t have to worry. I have your back. And you have my support.” He smiles. “I’m actually kind of amazed you’re going for it again.”
“Yeah, well, this time, I’m going to make everything count. I will not fail again. Not after all this hard work.” My resolution, my Sankalp, reverberates in these words, and I know that it is what I’m meant to do now.
Inderpal steps down and gives me a hug. Releasing, he says, “Good luck.”
“Thanks.” I bump fists with him. “I sure will need it.”
8. Takes One Through 15
Day and night, I rehearsed ‘Whistle Baja’ so much I came home with my whole body aching from head to toe. Every slide, every pop, every twist was carved to be on point and shined to perfection. Papa and I kept at it for weeks. Neither of us took any break, because this audition hinged on our futures. We did not want to fail it.
After practice, when we felt like we got it completely right, we reserved the next one week for shooting. But things were getting rather hectic. My finals were arriving in the next month, and March was about to end. Mama tried to balance my studies with dance, but it was hard. To increase time for exam prep, Papa decided to reduce the shooting to three days. The pressure was on.
Papa and I had many takes to do. I think we took maybe fifteen takes in total during those whole three days. Most of these takes ended up being abandoned at the beginning of my routine, and that was unnerving.
The third day, I’m on my fifteenth—and last—take. All the other takes went wrong, some in the start, some in the end, and one or two steps were flunked in the middle. I’m very anxious and hyped. Noticing so, Papa squeezes my shoulder and whispers something I’ll never forget.
“Sankalp, I know you want this audition so badly, but remember, I have always told you to enjoy dance. Breathe it in, breathe it out. Feel it flow through your veins as a strength, and not a weakness. Okay?”
I nod, gulp some water, and head back on the floor. Papa sets up the camera, and gives me a thumbs-up as he starts the music.
And I dance.
9. I Can’t Believe It
It’s a sunny and hot Monday afternoon. I get off my last class, social studies, and head to the dining room for lunch. But I’m not thinking about anything I learnt in school today. Instead, I anticipate the results of my virtual audition. Papa turned in the form along with my video a week ago.
As I take a seat, I ask Papa about the results. He’s working on his laptop, frantically checking emails and receipts. Whilst doing all that, he shakes his head. No, of course not.
Sayra sits in her high chair and fumbles around, being her usual self. Mama cooks some delicious paneer do pyaza, and I inhale the earthly scent of masalas and calm down. I focus on my plate, the steel projecting a reflection of me right back.
Suddenly, I hear a bang from under the table. I look below and see Papa’s legs raised, his knees hitting the bottom. It truly rattles us.
“Sunil, is everything okay?” Mama stops her cooking and rushes to Papa. I get up and hurry over too, then freeze when I see what Papa’s staring at.
It’s an email from Super Dancer.
Papa opens it and reads it silently. Mama and I rock on the balls of our feet as we wait, tensed. He rereads it, then grabs his head and leans back in his chair.
“I can’t believe it,” he says. “I just can’t.”
I move past him to read the email.
Dear Sankalp Chanana,
We are delighted to inform you that you have been selected for the next audition round of Super Dancer Chapter-4. Further details are given in the attachment below.
Regards,
Judges, Super Dancer
My heart stops beating.
I can’t believe it. I got into Super Dancer-4. I really did.
“Kya ho gaya?” Mama asks, looking back and forth between Papa and me.
A big grin slowly spreads across my face. “Mama, I’m selected. I’m going to Super Dancer.”
Sayra and I sit in my room, while our parents talk. We aren’t playing anything. Mostly, I read a book, while she rolls around, trying to sleep. I know she’s one and should nod off rather easily, but Sayra and I are a team, and we’re both staying awake. What comes next will be important.
I’m rereading a line I missed when Papa opens the door to our room. Mama follows him, and they sit on my bed next to us.
“We’ve come to a decision,” Papa says, “and that’s that we will go for the second round, which, as we expected, will be held in Mumbai.”
I draw in a breath. “That means… we have to fly there.”
Mama nods. “Yes. But… not all of us.”
I look at her. “What are you talking about?”
She sighs. “Your father and I agreed on this… you and Papa will go to Mumbai, while Sayra and I will stay in Jalandhar.”
“What?” My voice starts to shake. “Wh—why?”
Mama covers my hand with hers. “Beta, you know why.”
My eyes fill with tears. “But—no! Mama, this is my re-audition. I need you and Sayra there if I’m going to succeed—“
“Oh, beta.” Even she looks sorrowful, like she didn’t want to tell me in the first place. “I wish I could, I really do, but current events…”
That does it. I burst out crying, not softly, but loudly, sobbing at the injustice of it all. Why, God, why? Mama and Sayra have to come with me and Papa. We need to do it as a family. We can’t be apart, split in half and on opposite sides of the country.
Mama puts her arms around me and hugs me tightly, and I weep even more. Then, I feel Papa’s hand on my back. He’s joined in the hug. Sayra crawls over and wiggles between us to sit in Mama’s lap.
“We leave day-after tomorrow,” Papa says. I take a deep, shuddering breath to stop, but let the tears run down my face, as I melt into one of our last hugs as a family.
10. Leaving for Mumbai
Today is the day. Papa and I are leaving for Mumbai. A cab showed up at our house after Papa and I got ready. We spent the last night packing for the trip. The thing that made it difficult was that we didn’t know how long we were going to stay.
“If Sankalp is selected for the mega round, I will send you more clothes,” Mama says, as we eat a quick and light breakfast. “And I have informed the school about his leave, so that they can find a way to promote him to 5th grade.”
When we go out to the cab, Papa and I help in loading the suitcases into the trunk. Once we’re done, we sigh and turn to Mama and Sayra.
“I guess it’s goodbye,” I say.
Mama smiles faintly. “More like a fir milenge. See you later.”
I walk over, touch her feet and give her a big hug. She squeezes me back tightly and kisses the top of my head.
“Don’t trouble Papa. Be a good boy. And when you come back, I want to hear you say you won Super Dancer.” She kneels in front of me. I smile back and kiss her cheek.
Sayra comes to me. I pick her up and hug her tightly too. Despite her age, she has become like my best friend, and I don’t want to lose her trust.
“Don’t trouble Mama. Be a good girl.” I echo Mama’s words. I kiss her cheek as well and hand her to Mama.
Papa then hugs Mama and Sayra. I hear Mama whispering reassurances to him, that I’ll be fine and that he’ll be able to take care of me. At that point, I realise that Papa never had to play Mama’s role entirely until now. I promise myself not to trouble him, because in an unfamiliar city without Mama around, many things can go wrong if I don’t behave.
We get in the cab, and Papa closes the door. As the driver starts the engine and drives off, I look behind me to see Sayra and Mama still standing there. I raise my hand to wave back, then turn around.
I don’t know what’s going to happen now. But what I do know, is that I’ll get through it, no matter what.
(Next part: out 26th June)
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