anklebells and people

Went to dance class after a month and a half. Most days, even when I am home, I'm too lazy to wake up before noon and bathe and go and dance. But on the sundays that I do manage to that, it seems perfectly worthwhile.

...I have concluded, that the pakhawaj is definitely my favorite percussion instrument. (Other than when certain very cute men are on the drums, of course...but I'm digressing.) But..like I was saying..dance class provides me the perfect space for introspection. the rhythm, accompanying ghungroos, and feet-on-floor-stamping notwithstanding. the standing in line. remembering lessons on posture from 783 classes (or more?) back. scrunching up hair tight. mechanically dancing to familiar rhythm; desparately trying to recall the not-practiced new footwork. memories of old smells, walks and conversations, clusters of academic commitments and pending tasks, jostling for space with eyemovements, coordinated neckmovements and mudras. and of course, lest I forget, taal. The rhythm never failing to strike a chord. through the layers of preoccupation, and practiced nonchalance.

...Dance class has also helped me interact with people out of my "incestuous" circle of social interaction. Different views and counter-views. world-views. I have married friends. friends who have eloped. friends who are workoholics. friends who have never spoken to the opposite sex. have even had friends there who are female-swamis married to australians. All brought together (this phrase always makes anything sound like a pretentious grand plan) in a large basement and bound by the dysfunctional tape recorder. and of course comfortable dupattas and the love for silver earrings.

Postscript:

I've been walking around all morning (including time spent at the dance class where the accompanying music goes like this: "tha ri kit tha dhi") singing John Lennon:

Imagine all the people..living life in peace..

and i have no idea where that got into my head from. It's started to get a little annoying now.