SOMETIMES life snatches away the very thing that you are anticipating. You may have endured months of high expectations, only to see your hopes crushed.
In March, I learnt that there will be a youth musical production by a choral society in Nenagh, Ireland which is relatively close to my home. I had decided to join the musical because I love the performing arts.
The months passed and there was an announcement in June that the musical practice sessions will begin in July! The fact that the society had chosen the musical West Side Story made it even more exciting.
West Side Story is a modern-day Romeo & Juliet tale set on the streets of New York in the 1950s. Instead of the feuding families, the Montagues and Capulets, there is rivalry between two gangs, the Sharks and Jets. The Sharks originate from Puerto Rico while the Jets are working-class Americans.
Tony, a member of the Jets, falls in love with Maria, who is the sister of the Sharks’ leader.
I wanted to take part in the musical very much as I had watched my friends perform it at SMK Seafield in Malaysia last year. It had complicated dance choreography and catchy tunes such as America and I Am Pretty.
Finally, I received an email with the schedule of the rehearsals and the first day was a five-hour dance practice! I arrived excitedly and met the other potential cast members.
Auditions for the main roles were held the week after and I dreamt of snagging one of the main parts. My vocals are not as spectacular as the others but I believe dancing is my forte as I was a cheerleader during my secondary schooldays in Malaysia.
I had the time of my life dancing the confusing steps and strived to perfect them. I was even given the chance to teach a basic cheerleading stunt which was then added to the dance.
Towards the end of the day, as we practised the dances we had learnt in the morning, an unfortunate event occurred. While I was jumping and twirling simultaneously, I landed on the side of my left foot and I heard a loud crack.
I mentally scolded myself for being clumsy as I had a hairline crack on that same ankle five years ago. I remembered the consequence of that fracture and was not looking forward to the results.
I put an ice bag on the ankle and went to the hospital. I maintained a smile, went for an X-ray and miraculously the doctor said that my bones were fine. But my ligament was torn and I had to rest for a minimum of six weeks.
First, anger set in as I realised I could not perform at the musical and would not be involved in any upcoming productions due to my school state examination next year.
Then, disappointment seeped in as I will miss dancing. However, I began to realise that there may be an explanation for the incident.
Finally, I felt grateful that it did not happen a few days before the show.
Life may be cruel at times, but there must be a reason. Who knows?
The writer is studying at a high school in Ireland. She loves to try all things but is a Malaysian at heart