Prisha Khimavat

living life one word at a time.


For me, poetry isn’t simply expression, but rather the method in which to collect myself and piece me back together; my poetry is an amalgamation of who I’ve been, who I am and who I might become.

The Show Must Go On

This is part of a writing challenge. Click here to read more about it.

I have forever been a dramatic person, and perhaps I always will be. As a child, I was extremely opposed to extraversion. I was quiet, timid and perhaps even shy on the outside. However, on the inside, I was dramatic, opinionated and let’s be honest, very loud. As I grew up, a lot changed, and the person that was hiding on the inside finally got an opportunity to shine on the outside. This post is not about that. It’s not about change or struggle. It’s not about the battle between my two worlds. And it’s definitely not about my cognitive dissonance.

It’s instead about some of my favourite memories of my dramatic side making an appearance.

When we were all younger, my cousins and I would put on performances for our parents. It was not by their demands, and it was not to present a pleasant side to other people. It was not about competition or aggression. It was just a handful of kids (six to be exact) who got really bored on their vacation and decided to be dramatic. We would create scripts, make sets, audition for roles, learn songs and in essence create an entire production within the span of a day.

To be fair though, it truly was never any good.

I remember one very specific vacation that we did this and lets just say it was a very eventful day. To give you some context, of the six cousins, three were boys and three were girls, well are, we’re still here. Regardless, three boys, and three girls. I’m the oldest, then the oldest boy, then girl then boy and so on and so forth until the youngest boy. This took place when I was in the fourth grade, so if my math is right I would have been nine years old, making the youngest three years old (I think), or maybe he was four. Anyway, we decided that we were going to put on a show for our family.

We wrote a script on the one computer that was in that house. It was tucked away in a little cupboard-like room, it was small, squished but extremely cozy. Our story had something to do with charity, a princess in disguise as a homeless person and about having a heart of kindness. Though I can’t remember the specific story, that’s what it was about. We ended up laughing so much and coming with so many jokes that its highly possible the message got lost somewhere. Now that I think about it, there might have been a dancing old man in there too. I can’t remember.

After we wrote the script, we (by which I mean, I) decided that our play was going to end with a group singing of Send It On by all the Disney actors. I had heard some upperclassmen in school singing it and somehow decided that that song is what would make our play cool. In fact, now that I think about it, this song might have been the reason behind the message of the play. Honestly, I think I just wanted to sing this song.

For those who don’t know, I can not sing. At all. I mean it. I sound like a dying crow with a severely injured frog in its throat (I know it doesn’t sound plausible, but I’m trying to make a point here!) So, keeping that in mind, I think you should know that I divided the song up into who was going to sing what and made everyone practice for HOURS. In fact, I think we practiced the song more than the play.

Anyway, after a whole day of practicing, arguing, laughing, getting angry, and singing, it was finally time to perform. We set up a tent to use as a set, printed off lyrics to the song, picked out costumes, prepared snack and got started. I don’t remember a whole lot about the actual performance, but I know this: absolutely NOTHING went to plan. Everyone forgot their lines, started acting up to get laughs, broke character and forgot all the lyrics and the parts they were supposed to sing. You’d think that after all day of practicing we (I) would have been upset, but we weren’t. Everyone was forgiving and enjoying themselves. Our plan to put on a play with a message turned into a dance battle between an old man and a homeless princess, and you know what? It. Was. Awesome.

And this wasn’t just a one-time thing. There wasn’t a single time that our plays went the way we wanted. Once we put on a play for my parents anniversary and somehow gave them a son they don’t actually have…or maybe it was a puppy. I don’t know, but the point is, things never went to plan, and we still loved it.

Because as they say, no matter what happens, the show must go on.

~ Prisha Khimavat ~

Duration: 35 minutes and 40 seconds

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