Confession time: I didn’t want to come back to work after a two-week break. Did I head to an exotic destination? No. Did I manage to get all the house work done? No. In fact, my home needs a LOT of attention right now. Did I just chill? Yes and no.

I joined a theatre workshop for two weeks and kept up my grueling schedule much to the disappointment of my parents. My father was ecstatic when I told him that I was taking a two-week break and not going out of the city. “Great, so you’ll stay with us for some time?” When I informed him that the leave was actually for a 10-day theatre workshop (1.30-5.30 pm everyday) he didn’t say much.

I come from a family where, despite all the good intentions perhaps, my parents never encouraged me, beyond a point, to pursue creative activities. They were aware of my interests in singing, dancing, acting and writing but just didn’t have enough exposure themselves to tap various avenues to nurture my talent. As long as I was singing to relatives and participating in school competitions, it was okay. But a ‘career’ in singing was a firm NO. She might disagree today but I remember my mum actually stating that my horoscope clearly mentioned that a career in singing would result in “an enemy murdering me”. And, trust me, even though I laugh at the thought now, at that time – I was 13 years old — it was a scary feeling. So, if they didn’t want me to go to Mumbai (Bombay in those days) for college, I argued meekly but never fought back. If they said, singing and dancing is good as a hobby but no, you can’t think of it as a career, I thought they knew what was best for me. If they patted my back in front of others and said, “She’s a good girl. She always listens,” I was happy and content. In that sense, I lacked the drive to pursue my own dreams. I was scared of going against them.

A lot of people in the entertainment industry with whom I speak to today (in the line of duty) share similar stories, tell me about times they were regarded as outcasts, how parents always screamed and shouted at their “wastrel son” or the “stupid daughter who thinks she can be a star”. I remember speaking to actor Deepak Dobriyal and asking him if those times, those taunts, those accusations hurt? “Of course, I was very upset then. But I knew my goal very well.”

And that’s where I faltered completely. I never had any risk-taking abilities (I don’t, even today) and back in college days, instead of going to the music society (which, in my college, was also riddled with politics back then) I wanted to catch films, share all sorts of gossip and coffee with my friends. Today, I do regret wasting all that time in college. I had a fixed pocket money of Rs 1,000 in college days (this had to include my sojourns with friends, money to board buses and buy books) and silly as it sounds, it never occurred that I could ask my dad to give me more money to attend plays and concerts, stuff that I used to secretly circle in newspapers promising to watch all of those when I would start earning myself. For the record, summer job was another strict NO for me.

Anyway, the theatre workshop that I’d attended recently brought back a flood of memories of my childhood days, my earliest dreams and ambitions, the confidence with which I used to get up, look my teachers in the eye and say, “Ma’am, I want to be a singer when I grow up.”

The workshop, hosted by Actor Factor (a Delhi-based theatre company) and conducted by Shelli Koffman had a mixed age group (15 and above). Needless to say, I was the oldest in the batch and every time I walked into the hall where the sessions were being held, I gaped at the confidence of youngsters and their desire to do a summer job and use the money to enroll themselves in the workshop. I was amazed at parents who would walk into the hall and sit silently, observing their children, enquiring from them if they liked the activity. I felt secretly happy when 14-year-old Vani, a girl from DPS mentioned that her parents, having observed her at a school play, thought she was inclined towards acting and promptly got her to the workshop. It felt good to look at kids making mistakes at the final production on stage and still finding the confidence to look at the audience and laugh. As for myself; it simply felt good to be on stage after all these years.

I had a fun-filled and an enriching time at the workshop. For the past 10 days, my life has revolved around theatre and creative activities that I’ve always loved but never knew where to begin. For the past 10 days I’ve been a youngster all over again. Only this time, I was far more confident, happier and far more content.

PS: This post was written two months ago. Right now, I’m a part of an advanced acting workshop and working towards a production — 6 pm to 10 pm every day — and we’ve finalised a folktale from Bihar, just in case you’re interested in the details.

Clichéd as it may sound, it’s never too late to pursue your dreams despite your job, your home and other commitments. Ask yourself, is there any activity that you want to take up despite your hectic schedule? Share it with us on the blog.