There are some memories that sit
quietly in a corner of our minds — until a sound, a song, or a scent stirs them
up with laughter and warmth. For me, the folk song “Evvarito Cheppakunda
Gonguraki” is one such time capsule. Every time I hear it, I’m instantly
transported back to my school days — to my very first solo stage performance.
Our school’s annual day functions
were always a lively mix of group singing, kollattam (dandiya), skits, and
dramas. Students from different classes came together based on height, voice,
and character roles to put on these shows. But that year, something different
happened. My class teacher decided to include a solo folk song as a special
addition to the cultural programme — and much to my surprise, she chose me to
perform it.
I was hesitant at first. I had
never performed solo before. But when a teacher selects you with confidence,
it’s hard to say no. And so, with a nervous heart and a determined mind, I
began my rehearsals after school hours under the guidance of our dance teacher.
The steps were taught, the music played on loop, and the countdown to the big
day had begun.
About two weeks before the
performance, my class teacher asked me to bring a few bright-coloured sarees
from home to pick a costume. In those days, nobody bought a new saree for a
school performance. You either wore one of your mother’s or borrowed from
someone. I told my mother, and she sweetly handed me 3 or 4 of her sarees. But
they were all soft, light shades — no bright reds or yellows.
Still, I packed them in a bag and
took them to school. My teacher gently chose a white and green organza cotton
saree, saying it would suit the song’s feel. It was elegant in its own way. The
blouse was stitched in a hurry, and then came the dress rehearsals.
But soon we realized dancing in a
saree wasn’t as graceful as it looked! I found it hard to manage the pleats,
and the saree would shift or fly open with every jump or spin. It was a daily
struggle to keep it in place while performing the steps. Watching my discomfort,
my teachers sprang into action — they went searching for a vaddanam (also
called a kamarbandh), the traditional waist belt worn with sarees.
With some clever hands and
creativity, they secured the saree with threads, hooks, and pins, fastening it
around the vaddanam. That little belt became my saviour! I instinctively kept
one hand on my hip and the other near the vaddanam while dancing — not just as
part of the choreography but to make sure the saree stayed in place.
Finally, the big day arrived. I
stepped onto the stage, nervous but ready. As the music began and the familiar
tune of “Evvarito Cheppakunda Gonguraki” filled the auditorium, I danced —
holding my posture, catching the rhythm, and enjoying every step till the last
beat. I still remember the applause, the joy on my teachers’ faces, and the
sheer relief that I hadn’t tripped over the pleats!
Years have passed since that day,
but this memory stays close. Whenever the song plays now, it doesn’t just bring
a smile — it brings back the entire journey: from classroom selections to saree
trials, dance rehearsals, giggles, goof-ups, and finally, the stage spotlight.
It wasn’t just a performance. It
was a lesson in confidence, resilience, and the magic of a little
encouragement.
You can listen to the song: here
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