In The Spotlight
The Cambridge Dictionary defines ‘spotlight’ as directing public attention to a person, thing or event. I’d say it’s about 50% of what the word entails, but then that would be a discussion on what each person’s concept of every word of the English language is, and that’s a discussion for another time. But, being in the spotlight. What does it mean to me, or at least the general public? Sometimes, in a negative connotation, you could be deemed attention-seeking, or as my theatre friends call it, ‘stage-whoring’.
I was and am a contradicting person, although I’ve managed to somehow, although barely, bridge the gap between my two different personas, or as my mum calls it, my Gemini personalities (Tamil horoscopes, figure it out). I was the quiet kid, silently reading my book in the corner of my room. To this day, my neighbours take pride in bragging about it, or maybe it’s gratitude that I didn’t disturb them as much as the other kids in the complex did. But deep down, I wanted to be the person who had the attention. Indian households would deem it, being a brat, which I didn’t feel like it, so I did it in other so-called productive ways. I started classes for dance at the age of four, painting classes at age five, abacus, writing, yoga and what not. Being busy was a flex. I could add so many activities in my non-existent resume. Sure, it came with its downfalls of lesser vacations, but I didn’t mind that. My competitive nature helped in picking up these skills. Wanting to be the best in the class made me put my best foot forward, and I don’t know if it was sheer luck or my mum being extremely clever about my capabilities, I wasn’t the worst at any of them. I started doing competitions and winning them, and that was apart from my academic accolades. Now, this might seem like being a brag session but hold on yet. The troubled, distressed story of that longing artist is still left.
Time flies by and it’s Grade 10 and all of the so-called extracurriculars are dropped off from my life, and the other thing, which is academics manages to become a rat race. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love myself some good competition, but this ain’t that. It was intense pressure, and my competitive nature took it in stride. But, that came at a cost. I wasn’t necessarily the best student in the country, but this was always on a national basis. JEE did not help my self-esteem in any way, whatsoever. The saying, ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy’ was being executed in real life. I didn’t have time to do anything outside of this, so procrastinating on work became the habit. But my love for the arts never died. In the slightest sliver of time I could grab, I managed to express myself in several ways. Designing clothes, painting, the occasional dance. It built an alter-ego inside me that I wanted to be. The one where I was a star. I know it sounds like a cliché dialogue from a 1980’s movie on how the actress wanted to be a ‘heroine’. But that wasn’t it. I wanted to be an actual star. One that was the name-shot of the industry. The glitz, the perks of being a star or a celebrity was what I wanted. Going up to receive awards became a passion I ran after. But, that wasn’t happening anymore because I had stopped everything that won me accolades.
Soon enough, the late freshman year of college, I got into the theatre group. I didn’t know that was a skill I possessed until then, despite being in almost all productions of my school. That led to a new route I could take to be in the spotlight, this time, quite literally. My first big production was almost disappointing where I was given an almost cameo in the sub-productions that was happening. But hey, I was just starting out. Soon enough, I got my bigger roles. And I did them to the best of my abilities, it kept me in the spotlight. And theatre in college wasn’t how the media portrayed it as a bunch of weirdos. The group almost had an elite aura around it. But another thing I had discovered my passion for was writing.
I had been writing for years now, but nothing really serious, or anything that would warrant a response. But then, I started using as my crutch for my failing emotions, or the lack thereof. Poetry and songwriting became my new addiction, it was almost cathartic. But, I wasn’t a born musician. My songwriting opened me up to the world of music, the art of actually constructing a song. As someone who genuinely enjoyed music and had background music playing in their head for almost every situation they found themselves in, I was immediately drawn in, and to be quite frank, I quickly realized I was terrible at it. Yet, it was fun, the process of it was interesting. But my spotlight-seeking brain wanted to advantage of this outlet too, and there began a whole sequence of daydreams and ambitions with practically no skillset.
Coincidentally, Indian reality came knocking at the door. My grades had dropped because of practice hours at the theatre and a whole bunch of personal factors, but that had to mark the end of my theatre “career” and my outlet for validating attention. But that leads to a question that I hadn’t asked myself through the years. Why do I seek out the spotlight so much?
Surprisingly enough, the answer was given right away. That’s where my happiness lay. My peace of mind wasn’t in my hands but rather was in the claps of an audience. I felt at comfort, basking in glory I create. And every time its shine fades, I created a new one. I do not know if that is necessarily a good thing or a bad thing. But, it’s the thing that drives me. Hopefully, one day I’ll be able to meet the alter ego version of myself and say, ‘Hey, you’re here. I made it.’
