Here comes the hot-stepper!

Time and again I have been proved wrong in thinking one thing .. that I might actually be able to dance! :|

If you scan my playlists on media player you will find one dedicated to dance music (mainly club, techno, a lil bit of reggae, hip-hop and salsa mixes) .. brimming with (I cannot guarantee the latest but) some really groovy tunes you can shake your booty to. Many have been surprised/shocked by this revelation. Getting jiggy may be encoded in my gray cells but somehow my body fails to decipher and execute it. :|

In the initial stages of growing up I used to be forced to dance with everyone at the weddings and birthday parties. The main, nay, the ONLY force behind all this was me mums (who loves to dance and is the life of every party). Well, this is one case where daughter unlike mother. (Oye! That was only for the dancing part, you jerk! I still am the life of the parteh in my own unique way :P)

Anyway, that era passed and I entered the teeny bopper stage, where I would be nagged again, by my contemporaries this time. But it proved to be more difficult. No amount of persuasion was going to make me put even my little foot finger on the dance floor. Not even the convincing look in the eyes of the cutest guy around .. not even when he tried to pull me up from where I was seated towards himself. (okay .. it was something like that :P) And I guess if that could not make me dance, nothing else ever would. But I suspect that happened only because it was much later that I realized the guy was totally hot. And yes, I regret that moment till this day :( If I meet him any day now, I definitely want a dance with him!

Anyway, moving ahead, it was a dormant period and nobody tried any stunts with me until the end-of-teens. By this time I had started to become a little open to the idea of shaking one’s body alongside total strangers united together for their common passion for dance (or whatever). And hence had quite a few groovy sessions. My favorite would be a particular rain dance and a phase of craziness at 2 am on a certain night (which i shall delve into later) ;) 

I don’t really like to move to the sounds of bolly and most Punjabi remixes. But it so happens that whenever I gather courage to show my in-ability, the DJ will promptly start belting out one of the many Punjabi remixes :| and now that I’m on the floor I can’t just move away and hence have to utilize my non-existent skills to gyrate to something I detest.

I’d really like to learn salsa .. that’s one of the things on my to-do-before-I-die list. I’ve been made an offer for the same by two different individuals on two different occasions. And this time, I am seriously going to consider them!

You’ve heard of bathroom singers. But I am a bathroom (actually, just my room) dancer. The status has actually risen from the mute spectator to “room” dancer to the courageous one trying to move on the dance floor. But hey, atleast now I am trying!

I think two/two-and-a-half drinks ought to prepare me to unleash the R-factor in DANCE (that’s right .. no R in dance hence I don’t think I can ever unleash that non-existent power of mine :|)

And, wherever he might be, I’d like that afore-mentioned guy to know

You broke my heart,
'Cause I couldn't dance.
You didn't even want me around,
And now I'm back, to let you know,
I can really shake 'em down.

I can mash-potato,
And I can do the twist.
Now tell me baby,
Do you like it like this? ;)

[Watch the whole thing here.]

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, I think it is time I brought the R-factor into dance. Period.