Humor/Culture

Baby Steps Toward Future Compliments

Sweet dreams are made of hope

In two weeks, my friends and I will perform a folk dance at our Indian Association’s Diwali event. So last Saturday, I went to the dress rehearsal.

My costume was an off-white silk sari embellished with gold embroidery. With it, I wore lots of chunky faux bling.

I got into my costume with fifteen minutes to spare. Now, what was I to do with all that time?

I couldn’t tackle the dishes. I would end up with water or turmeric stains on my sari.

I couldn’t work on a draft. I would get caught up in writing and overstay the fifteen minutes.

I eyed myself in the mirror. Why not practice the dance?

I tried the first sequence of steps, but my foot caught in the sari’s front pleats.

This wouldn’t do. I would be tripping on stage, and it wouldn’t be the light fantastic either.

I unwound the sari and re-draped it four inches shorter. It looked ridiculously dorky for regular wear but left my feet and ankles free and unencumbered.

I could dance.

Ten minutes later, I checked my phone. Time to leave.

Be still, my heart…

I walked into the garage, where hubby was installing a new garage opener.

“I’m off,” I announced. Then on a whim, I turned back. “How do I look?”

Hubby looked up — and blinked. At me. In silence.

I thought I knew why —

I had rendered him speechless on account of how gorgeous I looked.

I was wearing more makeup and jewelry than usual. Not to mention a festive silk sari. And for once, the reflection in my persnickety mirror had smiled back at me.

I stood there, bathed in a rosy glow, when the man spoke. “You look…”

Be still, my heart —

“Your sari looks… funny.”

“’Funny?’” I came back to earth with a thud. “ What d’you mean ‘funny?’”

Hubby looked me up and down for a couple of seconds. Then his brow cleared. “Your sari’s too short.”

“It’s for the dance.”

“Okay.” He picked up the garage-opener manual.

I studied his down-bent head and pursed lips. This is what progress looks like.

Baby steps…

Hubby mostly lives in the iCloud. He rarely concerns himself with such earthly matters as saris and bling — faux or otherwise.

His standard response to my “How do I look?” question is a grunt.

But on this near-historic Saturday, he had taken a baby step forward. He had remarked on my sari — if only to critique its length.

At this rate, in a decade or so, hubby will be commenting on my choice of jewelry. “Delightfully traditional,” he will opine. “Bordering on antique.”

He will take in the embroidered motifs on my sari. “Zardozi work, I presume?” he will ask, with an appreciative lift of one eyebrow.

Will this ever happen? Am I kidding myself? Am I dreaming a dream?

Well, all I’m saying is: Sweet dreams are made of hope. And since last Saturday, I am feeling seriously hopeful.

Posting a YouTube video of the folk dance, Kaikotti, below. This is a professional dance troupe and their dance is a mix of classical and folk. (Although the clip says “Video unavailable”, you can click on the “Watch on YouTube” link and it will play.)

The dance I am performing is similar, but I took some liberty with the choreography, and came up with simpler steps.

Thanks for reading! 🌻🌼

Thank you, Hollie Petit, Ph.D. for your super fun publication. And for being a wonderfully encouraging editor.