Saturday, March 28, 2009

Good golly, Bolly

Someone in another division of my company was looking for people to fill a Bollywood dance class, so I decided why not? I like bopping around to dance music, and this sounded like a fun thing to do. Besides, I figured that taking yoga classes had given me some body control, and plus a childhood of ballet classes, I could follow choreography.

How wrong I was. Body control in yoga class is balancing on a poise. Classical ballet choreography does not move at 100 beats a minute. Bopping around to music turned up loud on the stereo is done with no regard to moving in a sequence.

There were eight counts to the bar, there was a move for every single beat. We were constantly moving -- twirling, spinning, jumping, turning, gyrating, shaking -- and you had to do it all in order.

It was good exercise, there was no doubt. But fun? Not when you had to memorise moves that go at breakneck speed.

Honestly, within 10 minutes of the one-hour class, I was willing to give up the $80 I had paid for 8 classes over 8 weeks as a write-off.

When I got back to my desk, an Indian colleague (who bought us treats to celebrate the day Slumdog Millionaire won 8 Oscars) raised an enquiring eyebrow.

"Jai Ho, my ass," I muttered in a weak response before falling into my seat.

I swear I will never scoff at a Bollywood dance sequence again. And they do it without air-conditioning, out among coconut trees and up hills and down dales.

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