I close my eyes as I sit down onto the cold dressing room floor, taking deep breaths to calm the pounding in my chest. The bright vanity lights penetrate through my eyelids, creating orb-like shapes in the darkness. 

As my heart rate slows down to its regular rhythm, I open my eyes and reach forward. 

There they are, waiting for me. The gold oxidized bells, sewn onto the dark brown leather in four rows, create a staggered pattern, an organized chaos. The worn down straps are fraying at the edges, the result of years of rough handling. Thin white thread covers the inside in a zig-zag pattern, appending fallen bells back to their original positions. The silver buckles, still in their original condition, reflect even the smallest light. 

I pick up the anklets, my most prized possessions, and hold them to my eyes as I say a quick prayer. I wrap them around each ankle, letting the cool leather mold against my leg. I loop the straps through the buckles, pulling fiercely until the prongs force themselves through the very last hole.

As I stand up to finish stretching, the bells make the faintest noise, like a soft but persistent rainfall, creating a quiet, consistent stream of jingling. I tiptoe through the dimly lit hallway, careful so as not to make loud noises. I crouch down to check my buckles one last time before I walk onto the stage, taking my pose in the dark, my heart racing once again. 

As the music starts and the lights come on, all of my worries fade away. I strike my feet to the rhythm of the music, and my body takes over as I lose myself in the moment. I dance from one end of the stage to the next, feeling nothing but pure bliss. 

My anklets. 

My anklets that follow my every movement. My anklets that lift me above the music, drawing the attention to the intricate footwork of Bharatanatyam. My anklets that hug my ankles tightly, providing a sense of reassurance and stability. My anklets that have been my pride and joy ever since I earned them at the age of nine. My anklets that will continue to carry me through many years to come. 

Dancing has always been my way of connecting with my culture and myself. I have found a safe space where I can allow myself to be free. As soon as I step into the studio, my stresses and worries fade away, leaving me with the opportunity to dance for myself. 

And that is something that I will never take for granted.    

So, I say thank you, to my four-row anklets. 

Follow Sukirtha (@suki_muthiah) and @CHSCampusNews on X.