Do I know me?

There are two things you need to know about me. I never lie, and I can’t dance.

Shit. I stand there frozen solid, absolutely clueless and inevitably doomed. The lights shine red into my eyes, beckoning danger. The stage pulls at my ankles and consumes me into darkness. And yet, why do a hundred lights still focus on me? Why do a hundred faces gawk at me, when I just want to be? Why do a hundred thoughts scatter my mind when I can’t really see?  

How long was that? A second maybe? Then why does it feel like an eternity?

I curse myself under the false smile. Isn’t it the definition of maturity? Pretending everything is right, when the world is a terrible sight.

Praying to Malek that he let me live to finish this piece, I find the music and return from the deeps.

And again—blank. Why does my mind commend me to doom in the noise of the world? In the echos of my mind, I hear the heart beating. Alive, and feisty. Pounding emotion with each strike. Abandoning me when I couldn’t really BE. Am I an orphan if the mind and heart let go of me?

Maybe.

Wait, what the hell is going on? Instinctively I turn.

Wait, what the hell did I just do? I am ONSTAGE.

Wait, what the hell am I supposed to do? I LAUGH.

Wait. Wait. Wait.

Did I renounce the “everything’s perfect” smile? No. That’s what matters. To the world.

Suddenly Xaden pops up in the stretches of my non-existent brain.

“When did I ever give you the impression I give a fuck about what the world thinks, Violence?”

And an instant downpour of calm hits my nerves. Xaden’s right. He’s always right. To my relief I find that my limbs move and my smile is natural as ever. As I get back to the piece, I realize all this happened in a span of mere seconds.

The music fades, the footwork ceases and I get offstage. The smile, however never skips a beat.

I wonder-

Why is this something I need to fight? The chaos of life getting under my skin; and when I ask my mind to settle, it resists. Then again, don’t I read every day- “I craft my legacy through burning pages”?

I have no idea why someone believed I could dance. Just like Violet, I am too fragile, too skinny, too flat to be a dancer. People ask, “Who the hell cast you as Draupadi?”

Because in this world, art still needs a body that sells before a soul that feels. So, why was I still dancing?

I never lie, so I believe myself when I say I love dance. I do. In the hours of silence, and peace unspoken, I twirl in my tiny room and apparate to the world within. I dance in a field of golden daffodils along a river, catching butterflies— for once not inside my stomach. I dance my way through the Hogwarts corridors and flood my mind with imagination. I whirl through the skies on a dragon, dancing through the rhythm of life.

Dance and me. Like a dragon and rider. Without my soul, my dance is a tragedy and without dance, I am dead. I spend hours talking to dance when the shadows crawl past at two in the morning. And when the sun rises, I converse tales of the dawn with it again. We are bonded and no daggers can break us apart. Dance flies me through incredible levels of joy and peace. It chose me not as its next but as its last. And the day my dance dies, I die with it. Dragon philosophy?

We are the happiest when together. And we work best when no one’s watching. When we are together in my room, time pauses to watch us drown in peace and chase purpose. We fight, just like any dragon and rider. It’s sarcastic and tells me off and I roll my eyes in reply; but also listen to its advice because it knows my shields, my powers, my channels. It acts like a conduit, directing me just enough to find my path in life. 

I don’t give a damn about the fact that I am not in the societal definitions of a dancer; coz if Violet can ride a dragon, I can dance.

“It’s only your body that is fragile. You, Violence are unbreakable.”

Wait. I can dance?

But I never lie and I said I CAN’T dance.

Maybe, I do lie.

Maybe, I don’t know me.

Maybe, I’m so head over heels that I don’t care if it takes me as a suitor, I claim it. In those moments of the rising red, alone, and happy as I will ever be.