My Two Not So Quite Left Feet

I don’t quite have two left feet but then the right ones don’t always get it right!!! These feet have a mind of their own and don’t always go the way you want them. 

They say all pavwalas by default know how to jive, something that’s ingrained in their being, by default. I am not sure if that’s quite true but what I do know I have managed to learn the pavwala jive, a rare breed in the world of hip-hop, Bollywood, twerking and what not. So when you play jive music you’ll find me on the floor, pulling siblings and friends, while my other non-jiving friends sit back and watch, nursing their drinks and their ego, observing as I twirl my partner around the dance floor, with all eyes on me, trying my best not to drop them, which I have unfortunately done a couple of time (let’s blame that on heels and lack of balance). And when they begin to play Bollywood or hip-hop you’ll find me fading in the background, away from the spotlight.

There’s something about ballroom that has always drawn me towards it. The grace, the elegance, the fluidity of movement, the poise, the sensuality, the sexiness, without it being vulgar or cheap. Always felt that pull towards ballroom (and I blame it on my love for watching Dancing with the Stars and So You Think You Can Dance).

So the most natural thing would first find a ballroom dance class and the next would be to actually attend it. I had learned Salsa from Salsa India Dance Company. But then that was almost a decade ago, and like memory, when you don’t put those steps into practice, it tends to slip away from you (though the basics and the counts still remain with you). So, not quite on a whim, joined Conrad Coelho Dance Company, to learn the finer points of ballroom, learn other forms, furthering my dancing repertoire (if ever have one), to add elegance and poise and a bit of sensuality (don’t really subscribe to the thought that a guy who’s good on the floor, is good in the sack, or it just may be).

The best thing about a dance class is that you don’t really need partner. You can come there alone and still dance with all the ladies in the room. So you better stock on that deodorant, carry a towel (after all who wants to dance with a sweaty smelly dance partner). You are all at the same level, even though you may know a bit of dance, you are still learning the steps of something you may have not done  before. So you go quick-quick-slow, doing the New York, the Cuban Rocks, the Arm Lock, of the Rhumba (the vertical expression of a horizontal wish. You have to hold her, like the skin on her thigh is your reason for living. Let her go, like your heart's being ripped from your chest). You try to mimic the rise and fall of the waltz, hoping to look smooth but looking more like a clutz, most of the time, but still trying to do your best. You try to ensure you make your partner comfortable, after all you are acquaintances, fellow-learner’s, fellowship of dance. So you try your best to get the steps right, give the right lead (after all in ballroom it’s the man who shows off the woman, not outshining her), learning together with each partner change, encouraging and smiling, and yes goofing around a bit. Something you even find your self practising, trying to figure steps in the weirdest of places.

So with one level done, where I got to learn the basics of the Rhumba, Rock and Roll, Waltz and Cha Cha, it’s time to reacquaint myself with my old friend Salsa, and progress to other club, Latin ans Traditional dance styles, and take the ITSD examination, hopefully by the end of the year. So it’s going to be interesting to see where my two not quite left feet takes me.

Q