Devi took a quick sip of her lemon
tea and concentrated on giving the samosas a perfect shape. Not only did she
love cooking, the innate artist in her made her present every dish with
perfection. These samosas, with the perfectly crispy outer layer and a succulent
inner filling of spicy minced chicken were a big hit with her British friends.
Her colleagues made sure that Devi’s samosas were in the menu for all their
office parties. Today she was making the samosas for her students. She glanced
outside. The girls were due to arrive soon. The first annual programme of her
dance school, “Shringar” was scheduled for the following Saturday at the City
Hall of Peterborough. Today was the final rehearsals for that. As she looked
around her plush bungalow, Devi thought, the young housewife from Kolkata sure
has come a long way.
It has been twenty years since Devi,
or Mrs. Nabanita Bose had come to England with her two small sons, accompanying
her husband Krishnendu, a doctor at the government hospital in Cambridge. They
had started their life in a modest apartment at King’s Lynn, a quaint little
town in Norfolk. Before coming to England, Devi knew about the huge adjustments
she would need to make in an unfamiliar country with unfamiliar culture. But
what she did not expect were the day to day difficulties she would have to face
because of her coloured skin. King’s Lynn, more than twenty years back, had a
predominantly white population unlike London, which was home to people from
different races. Devi soon found out that the people, especially the younger
generation had very little idea about the brown community. Her sons too had to
face bullying at school. The children would ask, “Why do you have brown skin?”
At her job too she found that because of her brown identity, she had to work
harder just to prove herself. She would often hear her husband talk about the
racism which was common in the hospitals too. But all that seemed light years
ago. Today Devi had a successful job as well as her dream project, her
Bharatnatyam dance institute. Since childhood she had been passionate about her
dance and someday dreamed of having a dance school of her own. But, to finally
have one with more than twenty five students, that too in a foreign soil,
seemed too much of a dream come true. Though, the real test lay in the success
of her annual program, Devi thought apprehensively. All she wanted was to
showcase the rich culture of her country to these foreigners.
Soon it was the day of the great
event. Devi stood beside the wings on the stage and scanned the packed up hall
nervously. But as soon as the curtain raised, she became oblivious to her
surroundings and dedicated herself to the worship of Lord Nataraj, the God of
dance. Through spectacular footwork and sign language based on gestures of hand,
eyes and face, Devi and her students narrated the story of mythical legends
with their dance and enthralled the audience, brown and white alike. As the
curtain closed, Devi could hear the thunderous applause reverberating around
the hall. The Mayor of Peterborough, who was the chief guest for the evening,
came up to congratulate her and specifically asked to be present at all such
programmes in future. As she reveled in all this appreciation, Devi sighed
contentedly. Despite her brown identity, at last she had made a mark for
herself in this foreign land. It was now, that her dream was truly realized.
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