Dancing with the Stars (and a Few Bendy Teenagers)
- sanjanakrish
- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
Updated: 4 hours ago
A rediscovery of rhythm, courage, and joy — one step at a time.
Back Then
It was many moons ago. I look back fondly on my college days — a free-spirited 19-year-old in Bangalore, graduating from a prestigious all-girls college, dancing to Shyam and the West Wind, and swaying to the beat on the occasional Saturday evening at the Club.
I still remember performing on stage to I’ve Had the Time of My Life from Dirty Dancing — dressed in an all-black ensemble: a skirt and top, feeling every bit the star. That iconic song. And Patrick Swayze — the universal crush of every cool teenage girl back then.
“Cool” meant bunking college and skipping down the drive to gorge on chocolate fudge or catch the latest release at the local theatre — so far removed from today’s world of streaming platforms and dating apps.
Anyway, what were we even thinking, trying to pull off a Swayze move?
It does feel a little strange to talk about those days. Somewhere between being a “cool teenager” and becoming that ubiquitous Auntie, the spirit still lingers — untamed and quietly alive.
Someday Arrives
Like many of us, I got swept up in life — a career, a marriage, and then motherhood. I wouldn’t trade any of it. Every moment has shaped who I am today. But somewhere along the way, my love for dance got boxed away, filed under “Someday.”
That “someday” finally arrived in early 2024. Hesitant but hopeful, I stepped into a a cool dance studio in Coimbatore, the city I now call home. I became the walking dread, nearly bolted before I even crossed the threshold. But the dance teacher — charismatic, energetic, and wise — gave me a pep talk I’ll never forget:
“Give it three years,” he said. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
I sighed, nodded my head, and signed up.
The Real Dance
My spirit was fired up — my muscles, however, were not. Brittle bones, stiff hips, and an ego that now bruises more easily than it did in my teens. But if Diana Nyad could swim the English Channel at 60, surely there’s still time for me to chase a few twisters.
These days, my instructor — bless him — is a teenager, all of 19, who dances like poetry meeting rhythm and cadence. I’m always surrounded by Gen Z and Alpha kids — graceful, bendy, and impossibly quick. It’s a real privilege to dance alongside them.
Watching them breakdance with all those freeze and flair movements looks incredibly cool — I must confess, from a distance. Me doing that, however, would be against all odds. That’s a firm no… nada!
But jokes apart, it’s humbling. Sometimes, intimidating.
Yet I’m grateful — grateful to be given a second chance. Grateful for the patience of my teachers. Grateful that I can now shuffle and do the wave — without wanting the mirror to shatter into a million smithereens.
Small Wins, Big Lessons
Yes, doing the wave is no small feat. It took me months just to move my shoulders the right way. And for that — for every small win, every pop, every dip — I am forever thankful.
Every time I get a step right, a routine perfected, I feel like I can achieve anything — and feel a Dancing with the Stars kind of moment.
I’ve also just launched my brand — Green Molecule — and I’ve realized that I’ve learned so much more than just dancing. My humility — reshaped. My courage — redefined. To let go of the fear of being judged. To be vulnerable. To stand — not shrink — in the spotlight. To stop seeking comfort in the shadows. To fail — over and over again. To die a million quiet deaths in front of a mirror… and still show up.
And to strive — not for perfection, but for progress and consistency. Small steps, I remind myself, when it all feels daunting.
The Curtain Call
And if you want to know more about this dance class — where you can groove to salsa, break into a jive, or simply be the hip-hop baddie — flick me a line for more.
So thank you — for helping the impossibly stubborn, awfully self-judgmental, introverted woman with her self-imposed limiting beliefs start believing in herself again.
Moleculary yours,
Sanjana
Curiously Irrespressible
