The Pause Knew First

Got to the studio at seven. One full hour early. I never do that. Sat on the floor and the keycard was still in my bra strap. Lazy. Or maybe my hands were too full thinking to take it out.

I broke the long moves into small ones. Left holes in them. Holes for breath. The psoas wants to hold me back, so the dance holds back too. It is not sad. It is just true.

Aanya came at twelve. Watched one whole hour. Wrote nothing. Pata nahi why but when she writes nothing, it landed.

Three minutes are in my body now. They are quiet. I have never made quiet like this before.

Here is the part I will not say. I am scared the quiet is me. Not the dance. Me. What if the thing my body is learning right now is how to stop? What if that is the whole point and I am not ready for it?

Maa would call and ask khaana khaaya? I would say haan. I would not say this.

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