The next time you’re at a dance recital, put your hands over your ears and shut out the music.
It’s a whole different ball game. You don’t realise how much of your grace depends on the little beats and the build-up of the music. But dance maestro Astad Deboo’s troupe of little dancers wouldn’t know about that.

They are deaf. And they dance better than many people I’ve seen on stage.

Rehearsal fun
The troupe is from the Clarke School for the Deaf in Chennai and they’re performing ‘Contraposition’... a series of dances, travelling around the country and now they’re back after successful performances in Malaysia and Singapore.
You can’t tell they’re deaf from their performance. I can’t when I drop by for the rehearsals. Not at first, anyway. They twirl and smile, casting furtive glances at each other to make sure they’re getting the counts right. Then one of them slips up, and thus begins a speedy and animated exchange of words through sign language as Astad scolds the girls back into line.
I watch the exchange, how without words, just with his face, his body language, Astad conveys his displeasure, and the errant girl shrinks back as if she has received a severe verbal dressing down.

"They can feel my anger," says Astad as the group takes a break. "They realise they’re not getting exactly what I want. When they perform, I don’t want anyone to say ‘Oh, they’re deaf, so those mistakes are fine’. No, there is no room for mistakes, and they realise that. And now, they’re getting better with every performance."

I speak to Bhuvneshwari, who works with the Clarke School for the Deaf, while I wait to speak to the girls. "These girls are like family to me,"she says. "They’re affectionate and cooperative and they’re happiest when they realise that the crowd is clapping for them at the end of the performance."

Round table conference
Finally, the girls are ready for me. We all sit in a circle: Mahalakshmi H, Mahalakshmi T, Jamuna Rani S, Divya HG, Gayathree S, Meenakumari N, Silsha MV, Karthika R, Kaavya and Vani.
They are shy but excited and at the same time... and I am aware of some rapid signs and laughs going back and forth and I am pretty sure that some of the jokes are at my expense, and the thought makes me laugh as well. They are adorable, all of them, some still in school. Lakshmi Mahesh, a teacher at their school, who has been teaching them all their lives, travels with them, and is acting as our interpreter. They can say a few words, but not too clearly but their faces are extremely expressive and they’re all grinning happily at me right now.

I ask the girls how they feel when they’re on stage... and they mouth ‘Proud’. Aren’t they scared to be on stage? I know I would be. They grin and say, ‘Little scared, but not much... more proud’.
One of the girls is interviewed by a news channel. I ask her how that experience was... was she nervous? She grins earnestly and says, ‘Brave’.

I wonder if they are all close or if they fight with each other and there’s a collective ‘Nooo’ as they all laugh and assure me that they are buddies. Lakshmi tells me that the older girls help the younger ones out when they miss being away from home.

I ask them how being in another country feels, when everyone praises their performance, and I say that I will not take ‘proud’ for an answer as they’ve all said that before. I am hoping for a more in-depth feeling, a lengthier answer.

One of them looks at me thoughtfully, and then triumphantly cries out, ‘Happy!’ I join the laughter that follows this and know they’re delighted with their little joke.

Then Astad calls for the end of the session, and they give me a collective, wide-grinned goodbye.
These girls are ordinary women... with a disability but they choose to live extraordinary lives just because they believe they can. They travel around the world, confidently face cameras, experience the excitement of learning something new every day and follow their passion without any inhibitions.

They’re extremely endearing and I became ridiculously fond of them after spending just fifteen minutes with them. It’s their spirit that takes you by surprise. You can’t help feeling some of their success though you had no part in it.
Make it a point to see their performance whenever you get a chance. It’s an experience. And here’s how you’re going to feel when you walk out... ‘Proud’.