Generally speaking, the year 2020 was a year of betrayal. We all were betrayed by hope. The biggest complication of Covid19 is not the lack of respiration which ensues upon its befalling, rather it is the feeling of desperation which lingers upon the world due to forced confinement. A curse—not to socialise. But like the temperament of water to find its way even from the smallest of crevices, wise men devise ways to mingle and shine even in the circumstances darkened by fate.
A live telecast of its annual function was a such an innovative move by IMA and IMA Shakti. From desperation to ecstasy, that seems to be the take-home message from one of the most executively crafted event.
Preparation Time:
Is journey more important than the destination? This thought has always boggled my plebeian thinking. what if both are equally gratifying? Well, the answer was provided yesterday.
What time is the rehearsal today? Oh, I can’t leave my patients. I am running from clinic to hospital, to IMA Bhawan, and the studio. My mind racing faster than the wheels of my car, yet interrupted by the untimely calls from the patients—baby is throwing up, the patient is bleeding. Am I hassled? you bet I am, but then I have the delicious soup by Seema Ma’am waiting and Dr Shalabh has ordered Pizzas for everyone, not to forget ‘Baburam Ki Chai flavoured by Dr Vani’s special chai masala‘. I am waiting for the tea break, my feet thumping awkwardly on the beats of ‘Teri Aankho Ka Kajal…’, and Shika calls out “Yes Shishir Sir, Aaj attitude aa gaya hai,” and suddenly my waddling gait settles perfectly. (I thought so). And look who is here, today is a special day—Dr Ashish is here with mouth watering Rasogullas, waiting to be gulped.
The Finale
I pace up and down the foyer, sweat drops coating the mantle, and a stream of nervousness running down my spine. It’s gonna be my first dance performance. I have somehow managed the background dancing along with the two charming ladies, Dr Rachna and Dr Akshata, both talented and veteran performers. Their natural flow only served to augment my anxiety.
‘This program is dedicated to you all, please applaud the efforts of your fellow members who have worked so hard.’ The mellifluous voice of our President Dr Ashish Agarwal echoes in my mind and I glance towards Dr Vinieta our IMA Shakti Chairperson and the director of the show. Am I going to let down her meticulous planning and preparation? I revise, and revise, and revise the dancing tips from Sundeep Sir.
The singers have done their bit—flawlessly, Dr Shalabh glued once again by the charm of his inamorata’s ‘Gulabi Ankhen’ is getting ready for the next performance, and it’s now our turn. Dandiya ready—8 this side, 8 on the other, Matki ready, Hoopla Ready. And it starts. All I care about afterwards was the thundering applause from the audience. Whoa, we did it.
A very hearty thanks to all the organisers and participants for making me part of this event. To Santa, to all the other singers and dancers, and the support staff, whose names I have omitted due only to my amateurish writing capability.
