His father picked up a dusty harmonium from the corner — his own forgotten dream. "Then teach me the hook step from 'Seeti Maar.'"
"You watched all of these?"
One night, his father stormed in during a "Nachchavule" dance rehearsal. He saw his son, drenched in sweat, eyes burning like Pushpa’s. The father stood silent. Then he pointed at the list on the screen.