Confessions on a dance floor

I've always thought of myself as a good dancer... I can move, and without being 3 pegs down at that! I've even trained in several dance forms, including indian classical, kalari, jazz etc etc... but my sob story begins in Paris, where I went with this German friend of mine, Esra, to a nightclub which was hosting 'Salsa nite'! The place was chok-a-block with very suave and sexy french couples dancing the nite away...

And could they dance!! I didnt even know men could move like that, given that the only 'dance' I have seen all this time on regular nite-outs is the hip-jerking, shoulder-heaving bhangra (dont get me wrong, I love the bhangra, its fun)... So anyways, I proceeded to spend the rest of the evening resembling a sack of potatoes, but finally managed to get the hang of it and soothe my fragile ego a tad bit..

But things got worse when back in Delhi I attended a salsa nite at Vasant continental where the famous Kaytee was taking a lesson... I barely managed to co-ordinate my moves with my friend (bless u Ankz for being so patient!) when the real dancing started.. I look at the women around me and realised, 'honey, u've got a long way to go before u look as smooth as that!'

My first step towards redemption? Joining salsa classes from this Sunday :-)

I'm spinning around, get outta my way!
-- Kylie Minogue, Spinnin'