No need for words

By Bella Haveman

I twisted around a makeshift dance floor filled with loud music and large grins. About a week ago, I had watched the girls in front of me perform the movements they now taught me. 

While in Haryana, I experienced many forms of song and dance. I listened to the music our driver turned on the very first day we drove from Delhi and watched colorful dancers twirl and mouth lyrics at the Titram culture event. These were moments I felt apart from; I watched the dancers on the stage and sat in the car as music played around me. It wasn’t until I was able to join in on these moments that I understood what made those dancers perform so passionately, or what caused me to smile a little in the car that first night as we drove our way through the state.

Song after song played and then faded to be replaced soon after, and yet I did not want to leave the little circle our group had created. It was as if we were talking to one another, and if I walked away it would be like cutting off mid-word. 

I had always heard that music was a universal language. This was not something I disagreed with, but there was never a need to communicate this way in a country where words got me by just fine. In India, I couldn’t always rely on a translator to be beside me for every conversation, and I was often frustrated and lost about how to connect with the people I met. 

These girls continued to find me — after the first festival in Titram, at Kumar’s, at the sporting event and now there, on my final night in Haryana. They often took the lead in this conversation of ours, twisting hands and kicking feet as songs played in Hindi. I replied with my attempt, a bad copy of their practiced but carefree movements. When the song switched to a familiar melody I was able to lead the dialogue, walking through dances I had done many times before but now felt entirely new. 

I had gotten to know these girls a bit more each time we met, but I hadn’t felt fully connected with them until the first dance. We were able to communicate our joy through smiles and laughter and our personalities through each interpreted movement. 

As the music continued to play from the little blue speaker in the middle of the crowd, I stood among a mix of familiar peers and new friends. This time, there was no need for words.