Two left feet, one happy Holi

Holi is not just a festival of colours; it is a training ground for amateur dancers like me. My husband and I were in two minds about attending a Holi party organised by our community. But when close friends cajoled us to join them, we hopped into our car and drove over to the venue. As soon as we entered the arena, the festive spirit was unmistakable—a riot of colours, food, music and a DJ setting the tone for the day. 

We were a group of three couples. After smearing colours on each other’s faces and exchanging cheerful greetings, the men chose to sit and chit-chat while we—their better halves—rushed enthusiastically toward the dance floor. The two ladies who accompanied me wasted no time in proving that they were better dancers than yours truly. Their hands and legs moved in perfect tandem with the rhythm of the music, while I tried to match their grace rather awkwardly.

Here, I must confess that I have remained an amateur dancer for most of my life despite learning Bharatanatyam during my school days. However, my inability to dance well has never stopped me from twirling. My feeble attempts to shake a leg not only lack grace, but they also have the power to knock someone off their feet—and I am hinting at the physical impact rather than the emotional one. 

My frantic swinging of arms and legs in the name of dance can startle even the most stoic dancers. I guess people were quick enough to notice my peculiar prancing because the tiny circle that we three ladies had formed suddenly expanded in size. Though I remained completely unflustered about my so-called dance moves, I was in awe of the many talented people around me who could perfectly mimic the steps of popular film stars like Hrithik Roshan and Prabhu Deva. "Why can’t I dance like them?" was certainly not the thought that crossed my mind, as I have no qualms about admitting that I have two left feet. For the uninitiated, it’s a metaphoric expression for a person who is clumsy and stumbles while dancing. 

However, good music with great beats invariably beckons me to dance even if there is no dance floor. Recently, I found myself moving my arms up and down and tapping my feet vigorously to a peppy Hindi song—and mind you, I was doing this inside a moving car, much to the amusement of my husband and son. "This car floor will either crack open or some passer-by will have a hearty laugh looking at your actions," my husband remarked. Despite such observations, I continue to stay true to my motto—Have Feet Will Dance, albeit badly!