Dance baby dance

Dance baby dance!

The whole country is Natu-natuing over the Oscar Award for the best original song. You may smirk and make faces at film music, but admit it, it is official now. Indian film music has arrived.

Have you seen the video? The music is fast and upbeat, the steps energetic, the atmosphere is charged, the two male actors Ram Charan and NTR Jr, are fully clothed and look good dancing it, everybody is smiling and enjoying. Most of all, we are thrilled that a Bharatiya (Indian) song whether we know the meaning of the lyrics or not, brought the coveted statuette home.

The chartbuster already won the Golden Globe and Critics Choice Awards a few days ago.

No need to stress how much we Indians (especially from north), love to dance. No celebration, whether in the neighbourhood, a school/college function, wedding, religious occasion, is complete without singing and dancing. The happier you are, the more your insides yearn to move and shake it. We can dance to bhajans (devotional songs) or folk songs, march to patriotic lyrics or imitate a film star’s steps.

In school functions, you stick to classical or folk dance, in religious gatherings one merely claps and moves arms in the air with some steps left and right, back and front; in weddings, there is no limit. In fact, in Punjab, dancing bhangra and gidda in a wedding is an honour.

This is not about dance in Hindi films. I am merely imagining the party scene in our country from now on.

I recall that a couple of decades ago, dancing in parties meant couples swaying to western music (at least in the railways and the armed forces). Freshers were not averse to taking dance lessons for a big occasion. One dressed to the nines and who to dance with and whom to avoid, were also considered beforehand. Those with huge jacket buttons digging in your chest and stomach, bad breath, clung too much or were prone to getting drunk, were a definite no-no.

Of course, some Hindi film songs, mostly the cabaret ones, were played towards the end and everybody tried to change the steps, but there was very little copying of actions from film dances. Those dancing solo also did not try out wild, crazy movements.

We stayed in the southern states of the country for a few years. The people there are unmatched in their classical dances, but I noticed that they shied away from dancing on film songs in public, parties and gatherings. Well-mannered and cultured that they are, at parties most seemed to tolerate me and my kind as we shook our booty to loud playing of Aa Ante Amalapuram and other numbers, the words and meanings of which we had no clue about.

Slowly life started imitating films. Party dancing too got hotter and hotter, with DJs, psychedelic lights, dance floors. Everyone made the effort and time to learn the dancercise steps. They watched and rewatched videos, practiced for hours, got special dresses made for occasions where they were expected or supposed to dance. Mothers boasted about how well their children could dance to Come on Barbie, let's go party!

We slowly saw item numbers become the heroes in films. We have watched Beedi jala le, Kajrare kajrare and Munni badnaam huyi turning into national party anthems. Dancing on their beat was serious; people copied the actions, and imitating them started to be labelled as a talent. Sangeet functions for weddings became laboriously choreographed events.

And now?

In a ‘no kids’ party, as soon as the music starts and there is room to shake limbs and waist, converge women. The days of Shammi Kapoor, Javed Jaffrey and Mithun Chakravarty leading or hogging the floor, are over. No place for Hrithik Roshan, Shahid Kapoor, Tiger Shroff etc. too.

Kikli is very popular in Punjab

It is sampoorna atma-nirbharata (complete self-reliance). Women of all ages, shapes and sizes mean business. Shaking their seen and unseen body parts in precise imitation of actions and steps in the bangers, they may form a circle, follow some folk-dance steps, do a kikli, shake and clap, smile, laugh and sing along.

Poor guys merely form a crowd or circle outside to linger and watch lethargically. Some utilize this exact time to make up for any alcohol or nicotine deficiency in their systems. But rarely is there any scope for them to join the gang.

Even if one does, there is no couple dance. He indulges in fulfilling his wish to spring a little, shake his shoulders and mostly, smiles a lot at his achievement, but leaves. From then on, it is every one for herself as if members of the long-suppressed gender are taking part in some kind of cleansing exercise, throwing something out of their hearts and systems.

After the DJ has been moving his fingers on their demand for what seems like hours, suddenly comes a moment when whoa, the track changes to Gadde te na charhdi, gadeere te na charhdi…Bolo ta ra ra ra (She does not get on the cart, she does not get on the car…sing ta ra ra ra)…, the timeless Daler Mehndi song with no shelf life, and there is a minor upheaval on the floor.

One shoorveer (braveheart) emerges from among the crowd. Representing the whole male population present there, he breaks the female monopoly. The Ganesh Acharya in his muscular and skeletal systems kicks out of his skin, one leg goes up in the air. He raises one arm to protect the Patiala peg he is holding. Making a place for himself among the gyrating female forms, bows his head in pure Dervish-like concentration and with his bob, hop, jump, stomp and bounce, very soon becomes the king.  

Ah, but he cannot be the Krishna among the women for long. Soon enough most of the wives begin to skit out of their protective ring, darting towards their spouses and insisting them to dance. The half-hearted attempts of some husbands who hold domestic peace on the top of their list of life’s goals, are as clear as the glasses and the conversation they have to put aside. From then on, it is the wane of the dance session.

Dissolved in the atmosphere so far, I slowly come out of it and start inching towards the dinner table tempting me.

And the next morning there is a message very clear on everyone’s tired but huge smile- wow, what an exhausting but great evening!

                                                                                        -Anupama S Mani

P.S.- See you here on the 25th.