Feeling nostalgic to restart the My Dance Story series. It's been a while I was away from this due to CHIMERA and other work stuff. The #mydancestory is very dear to me wherein I share myself with you all. Maybe I should post it every Monday-Wednesday-Friday maintaining a regularity until I am lacking words and stories. The below picture was from a Vishwakarma Puja held in our Simantika Printers, Chenikuthi, Guwahati. And I think I was in Class II at that time. I was with my dad and wearing a light lemon yellow net frock designed by my mom. I was holding some empty Agarbatti packs in a fan shape to make me happy. The aroma these empty packs were spreading lured me throughout the day and my dad also gave me enough time to properly hold it in shape before been clicked. From some days I am missing him very much, specifically his encouragements for starting something new. Without judging, he would motivate and energize other's dreams. If he would have been with me, maybe I could have been initiating many things with just his presence beside. Some of the moments I had and some which I could not have, make me lonely from within which I can't express. His hope and dreams for me, his way of watching my acts and especially my dance, intriguingly made me feel that I dance nicely. During this time and until some more years I used to keep dancing and showing it to all our family members whoever visit our home. And if in any case they get engaged with interesting chats with each other, my dad would say, "Sua he, tai beseri amar karone nasi ase" (look, she's dancing for us). And this line all my aunts still remember and undergoes a nostalgic moment. Experiencing all this emptiness within me, sometimes I feel either he should come to me or I should go to him, cause our conversations are still half done.
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