My guitar teacher was an old Catholic man living in the lanes of Marol. On the first day of class, he asked me if I could sing. I tried singing. He decided I could not. Every day, he taught me some new chords and the next day asked me to play them again. When I did, he would get irritated. “You are playing from memory. You need to play by the ear.” he would say. He was right, I was playing it from memory but I didn’t know what I was supposed to be hearing. In my mind, I had noted the finger positions next to each chord. The sounds from the guitar were incidental. After a week, I told my mother I wanted to quit. She had only paid for the month so she agreed.

For most of life, my head was the centre of action. My body, I didn’t have much control over. I was not good at sports, painting or singing. I did learn to throw a ball from my brothers. I can dance but again nothing too complex. I was good at memorising. I was good at reasoning. And because it is connected to the head, I was good at writing. My body has always been a device to carry my head around. I was like two kids in a trench coat trying to be an adult. The kid on the top, my head was obviously smarter, the other kid just a fool following orders.

I exercised out of need but didn’t think of it as fun, more like punishment for having the body I did. In 2020, when the last of the lockdowns opened, I joined a contemporary dance class. One day, my dance teacher said we were going to learn tumbling. I did not want to be the only person in class who didn’t manage to tumble so I paid attention. Palms next to your shoulder, head bent, land on your upper back. I followed the instructions but a self preservation instinct would kick in at the last minute and I would stop.

My teacher saw me trying. She said, “Your body knows. You don’t but your body does. Just land on your upper back, you will be fine.” I closed my eyes and rolled over. When I opened my eyes, I was upright. My teacher made us tumble for a whole hour across the room. Forward and backward. Till, there was no fear left. For weeks after, whenever anyone came home, I would ask them if they wanted to see me tumble and do it no matter their answer. This class began my journey into swimming, pottery, badminton. Into what my body knows.