The Egg Boiler Part 3: The Russian Ballerina

Read Part 1 here: The Egg Boiler Part 1

Read Part 2 here: The Egg Boiler Part 2: Carolyn

During one of my happy breakfast morning conversations with Carolyn, another interesting person joined our conversation: A Russian Ballerina.

I wish I remembered her name, but I don’t. It registered in my head for that moment, but now I don’t recall it, unfortunately. But this does mirror to the quality of the interaction I had with her.

Whenever I hear the word “Ballerina”, my head gravitates in that direction, it has been the case ever since I started writing a monthly blog for LDAB. I’ve met Indian ballerinas but never one from the land that it originates from- Russia.

Like an excited kid, I told her all about how I produce 650+ words a month around ballet. Her eyes lit up. She’d come here to teach ballet in Mumbai for the next whole year in an academy in Colaba.

“Fascinating!” was the first word I blurted out. She smiled warmly.

Once I knew her profession, it seemed to all fall in place. Her fragile delicate body frame, blonde hair: Classic Ballerina imagery.

She looked at my breakfast plate and observed, “You really don’t eat like an Indian: eggs and an apple.”

After a seemingly nervous laugh, I confessed, “Yes, an excruciating weight loss journey does that to you.”

Carolyn and I bid her goodbye for the day.

A few days later, I found myself working on my laptop in the common room at night awaiting my food from Box8.

The ballerina passed me by, I gave her a bright smile having seen after so many days. But her eyes were moist, her face almost ready to burst. She had her headphones on and she swept past me hardly acknowledging my presence.

I noticed she was on a video call. She sat on the cushions beside the mini bookshelf in the common room. And she wept.

It was all Russian. The manner in which the language is spoken gives it away. I’ve not seen someone other than me of course, cry so hard.

People stared. Here I was in a room filled with people across the globe, but it was an unwritten rule that we chose to follow.

When someone chooses to cry their hearts out, let them.

(Will post Part 4 soon!)

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