Of Dancing - Part III

Class eleven was a year of transitions for pure Sherubtsians. We started getting students who had studied in Kalimpong and Darjeeling. They spoke a different kind of English – what was called slang, I remember. Words like ‘damn’ and ‘shit’ were new to us pure Sherubtsians. I guess being in class eleven meant we were now old enough to mingle (I mean between boys and girls), for in a building between the girls’ hostel and the boys’ hostel there was started what was called ‘Club.’ By then, of course, we had a very liberal Principal – also a Canadian Jesuit Father like the previous one, who had however been overly strict. We were all of a sudden free to go to the Club during weekends, put on the music (gramophone those days rather than tape recorder) and dance.

We pure Sherubtsians had actually gotten used to not mingling freely (between boys and girls), which we had learnt to be ‘immoral.’ We girls would be punished if we were seen talking to boys. Adopted brothers were said to be, “Brothers during the day!” I think it was a strange world we grew up in, almost like we girls were being trained to become nuns. If we did not do well in studies, the nuns would shout at us “Boys in your heads!” So, when we saw how free and open the Kalimpong and Darjeeling students were, we weren’t sure how to react. They danced so easily. We pure Sherubtsians would just sit there and watch shyly at the sensuous moves of some of those girls. They were dancing to western music! They were dancing in two’s! Holding hands… turning…, twirling. I watched enviously, my feet tapping on the floor. A guy (today in a respectable position) asked me for a dance once and I refused. He gave me a long lecture that until today has kept me wondering what it was all about. I happened to attend a few of his talks last year here in Thimphu that had been specially organized for a small group of trainers. I don’t know if he remembered his long lecture to me but it kept swooshing before my eyes as I listened to his talk. I’m sure there was a funny expression on my face that couldn’t have gone unnoticed by him. He said nothing, though. Neither did his expression.

Well, being the boldest of all Sherubtsian girls back then I quickly picked up the courage to dance at the Club. It was an amazing experience – the sort that is addictive to some people. I remember not liking so much the dances in two’s but rather the ones with girls in groups. This continued during my college days in Delhi. We would organize parties at the Bhutanese Embassy and I’d either be dancing all by myself or in a group. I love tango, ramba samba and salsa (not that I know any of these and they weren’t known then anyways) but somehow the romantic slow dance with boys/men never was appealing to me. I’d always try to escape by literally hiding somewhere safe. I think it was enjoyable for me only if I were attracted to my partner or with the one I was in love with.

I remember a popular music of my Sherubtse secondary level times – Boney M.’s ‘Brown girls in the ring…tra la la la la…Brown girls in the ring….tra la la la la la…’ and ‘I’m crazy like a fool…daddy daddy cool…’ In Delhi, I remember going crazy with ‘Grease Lightning…’ after watching John Travolta in Grease. Then it was Michelle Pfiefer’s ‘Cool Rider…’ in Grease II. In the Hindi category, it was Mithun’s ‘I am a Disco Dancer…’ ‘Krishna dharti pe aaja tu…Krishna pyaar sikha ja tu..’ I also remember Anil Kapoor’s ‘Yaar bina chen kaha rey…pyaar bina chen kaha rey…sona nahi chandi nahi yaar toh mila..arey pyaar karley…’ and of course Reena Roy’s ‘Chhoro chhoro…….yeh hai pyaar ki hathkari..’

I’m very fond of the Indian semi classical dance as well. While commuting by the DTC bus to college in Delhi, I used to sadly glance at the dance institute nearby Connaught Place and wish I were a student there. Similarly, as a little girl in Kolkata, I would watch other little girls dressed up in the ballet attire go for ballet lessons every day. I could never ask my father if I could learn as well, and as I watched these girls in ballet shoes from my window tears would roll down my cheeks. And then, when I happened to visit Israel in the late 1990’s during govt. service, I came into contact with the popular Salsa dance. God! That was like entering into a whole new world. I wanted to learn it so badly, but we were busy and the time was too short. Opportunity lost forever…

My awareness of the tango dance started when I watched Al Pacino tango dancing in the movie ‘Scent of a Woman.’ (Forgot the year) I just love the arching of the female body as she’s led firmly by her partner. The female head held high throughout the dance. Just so beautiful to watch and follow with your eyes all over the floor, your insides almost keeping to the rhythm although your bottom’s painfully glued to your chair.

The last time I really really really danced after college days was in 2006 at a learning event in Paro. It was our last day and we decided we were going to have some fun. So, we did. I remember letting myself go, oblivious of who was around. A senior member asked, “Are you enjoying, Tshering?” “Yes, Ma’am” I replied in full honesty. One member remarked, “Hey! Where did you learn to be the Dancing Queen.” I don’t know what he meant, but I took it as a compliment. That same year, there were other smaller occasions when I found myself dancing and best of all was when I met an equally crazy woman. She is fat, but very flexible, like the Bollywood Choreographer Saroj Khan. We still write to each other and express how we miss those times. The other day I accidentally met her in Wangdue and I noticed she had grown much fatter. I wondered if it meant she had hardly danced in recent years.

It’s been over three years now that I haven’t danced. I think that’s partly the reason I feel quite depressed sometimes. The closest to dancing that I managed was last year at a college jam session. Just standing in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by college students, smiling every now and then, shaking the head a bit from time to time, feet almost fixed, hands in slow movements. It was stifling! I missed the freedom. I guess I was behaving myself in front of the students. Whatever that’s supposed to mean….. I was actually in the company of a conservative lady friend, in front of whom I was too conscious to dance given my age. I returned home a sad frustrated woman that night.

Now, as I’m nearing fifty, I’m just left with enough energy to enjoy watching dance shows on TV – You Think You Can Dance on AXN, Dance India Dance on Zee TV, Nachke Dikha on Star Plus, etc etc etc ….. My favourite DID contestant Shakti won the Takdir Ke Topi recently and my happiness knew no bounds. I simply love her contemporary style in particular. The ongoing DID for little champs is just too good …cannot wait for the audition to be over.

I guess I could say my dream of dancing has been fulfilled in little joyful ways that give me the same kind of pleasure thinking about them today, that the dream could never die despite knowing it’ll never be fulfilled to the desired level. Sometimes, it is more fun living your dream for there is more to look forward to and you never know what surprises are in store for you. I’m imagining that once your dream’s achieved, the fun is over and that’s what I wouldn’t like to let go……….ever……….no matter how old I get.

That's what I think of dancing......