At first, it was just a number.
A quirky, almost obsessive number, 170. Not 168, not 175. “I have a little OCD,” admits 19-year-old Remona Evette Pereira, laughing. “Seven days means 168 hours. I thought — let’s make it 170. It just felt right.”
That moment of instinct would lead to a history-making feat. From July 21 to July 28, inside the auditorium of St. Aloysius Deemed to Be University in Mangaluru, Remona danced non-stop for 170 hours, setting a new world record for the longest solo Bharatanatyam performance.
The Girl Who Danced Before She Could Walk
Remona’s bond with Bharatanatyam began before she knew the word for it. “I started at two and a half,” she says. “My mother loved Bharatanatyam but never got the chance to learn. So she passed her dream to me — and it was love at first sight.”
That love never wavered. Even today, she describes her identity in one breath: “Ramona and Bharatanatyam — we’re one. There’s no me without it.”
Over the years, she trained, performed, and experimented with fire, pots, glass, balancing acts — even dancing with over 30 props for an hour as a schoolchild. But this time was different. There was no rehearsal, no plan, no backup. Just belief.
“Are You Practicing?”
“Practice?” she chuckles. “How do you practice for 170 hours? People asked me all the time. But I told them, ‘I’m going to enjoy it. Let’s just see what happens.’”
Following official world record guidelines, Remona was allowed 15-minute breaks every three hours — no exceptions. Those were her only chances to eat, freshen up, or sleep. The rest of the time, she was on stage — barefoot, performing full classical Bharatanatyam with expression, footwork, and discipline.
The first day was the hardest. “I wanted to give up. I told my mom, ‘I can’t do this.’ But I’m someone who keeps her word. So I cried, and then I kept going.”
By Day 3, sleep deprivation caught up. “I started hallucinating. I saw people who weren’t there. I was talking to someone on stage — and my team was like, ‘Remona, who are you talking to?’ I said, ‘They’re right here.’” She pauses. “That was the scariest part.”
But even in that fog, she didn’t stop.
A Stage Held Together by Love
Behind Remona’s endurance stood a small village — her mother, her college, her friends, and a teacher who never left her side.
“Christopher Sir — I’ve known him since I was in fifth standard. He stayed in that auditorium with me 24/7. Didn’t leave even once. That kind of support is rare.”
St. Aloysius Deemed to Be University sponsored the entire event, letting her perform in their hall, and even assisting with food, logistics, and medical supervision.
Support came from strangers too. People walked in at 3 AM, cheered her on, stayed through the night. “The whole of Mangalore, the whole of Tulunadu was there.”
“My Only Regret Is…”
At the end of the 170 hours, the crowd erupted. Cameras flashed. People cried. But Remona held one hand tightly — her mother’s.
“My only regret is that I couldn’t hug her,” she says softly. “There were too many people, too much media. I was holding her hand, but I couldn’t give her that hug.”
Her mother, Gladys Pereira, stitched every costume, supported every crazy idea, and stood by her daughter through every moment of this unimaginable journey.
What Now?
She’s still recovering. Her sleep cycle is broken — “I can’t fall asleep before 3:30 AM” — and her body’s still catching up. But her spirit? It’s on fire.
Ask her what she felt in that final moment, and her answer is instant.
“There was something divine in that room. I felt it. All I could think was: We did it.”
Because for Remona, it was never just her record. It belonged to her mother, her teacher, her college, her city — and every person who dared to believe the impossible could happen.
And as for 170?
Well, it’s more than just a number now. It’s a story for the ages.
