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Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Trapeze and my act of boldness!





I was born to a family of acrobats. I had been raised on the diet of trapeze acts. Both my parents were skilled trapeze artists. People used to clap profusely watching their daring acts.  Be it static, flying or swinging trapeze they were master at everything.  

I used to watch my parents from back stage while taking care of my baby brother. Elder sisters are supposed to take good care of their little ones. And I was assigned the job of handling my brother while my parents performed their art.

People used to say that I would be a very good trapeze artist as I had the trapeze art in my genes. I also used to imagine myself performing before a packed crowd and acknowledging their applause. 

When I was 6 years of age, my parents had started giving me the training in gymnastics. Today after 5 years of training I know that my body muscles have reached a level of flexibility that is required to be a trapeze artist. I knew that I had the required combination of agility and flexibility to be a successful trapeze artist. I had been doing all the exercises to strengthen my muscles. I had taken the right diet to increase my stamina. In summary, I thought that I was all ready to make a foray into starting my trapeze lessons.

On my 12th birthday, my parents thought of initiating me into the flying trapeze acts. As I reached the top, my heart started racing with excitement.  I played it down and tried to focus on the action ahead. My father showed me one act where he went from one trapeze bar to another with making smooth transition from one bar to another. I also tried to emulate my father but failed. I could not catch the second bar because I could not leave the first bar because of the fear of falling down. 

Despite my training in the gymnastics, flying acrobatics seemed a different ballgame all together for me. I observed that I was stricken with the fear of heights. I was not provided the safety rope assuming that being the daughter of amazing acrobats; I could manage without the safety rope. Of course there was a safety net, but that didn’t help my confidence either. I just kept clinging to the first trapeze bar. 

When I came back, I explained my problem to my parents. My father got disappointed in me big time, my mother tried to make him understand that I would feel better with time. But he was really dejected seeing my performance.

 I kept thinking whole night about the incident. I could not sleep well. I had lost all confidence in myself. Next day, when my parents told me to go to the flying trapeze training, I pretended to be suffering from headache. I could hear smirk of the fellow trapeze artists of my parents at circus. They were whispering that I was a coward and making excuses to avoid the training. 

Though they were right that I was making excuses but I was not a coward. Yes, I was scared… and that too… to death. 

I had left the trapeze training altogether and was happy attending to my brother. One month had passed since my first day fiasco. On night I heard sounds of sobbing coming from my parents’ room. I tried to overhear.  It was my father sobbing and discussing my unwillingness to try trapeze again. That hit me like a thunderbolt. I didn’t know that my father rested so much of hopes on me.

The next day in the early morning, I went to the trapeze training area. I overcame my fear by falling several times on the net (I didn’t use the safety rope). After falling for ten times I succeeded in catching the second bar in the eleventh time.  Hearing my father sob filled me with courage and boldness to try my limits and that courage helped me start a new life. Today, I am a successful trapeze artist and my parents are truly proud of my trapeze antics.


P.S:  This is a creative account
 

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