Dancing Dilemmas

trying to twirl around in stubborn osho chappals, while looking in wonder at those who slither away in high pencil heels...i'm all of 21 and i still can't dance.

taking pity on my fruitless struggle, those around me come forth to offer a few lessons on how to look less awkward while tryin to move to the music. the scary bit is that these are those very guys you just mocked at for their ridiculous dancing skills a few minutes ago. should always keep in mind :"people with glass doors..." (mine is a palace made of the most fragile glass).

so after an hour of trying to teach me in vain, my trainers give up, and i'm let off with a little pat on my head. i, for one am ever ready with the most lousy excuses..."just not my kind of music", "can't feel the rhythm reverberate through my soul", *pretend i'm in a rather thoughtful mood, that my mind is preoccupied with more important affairs, hence the disinterest in 'shaking that thing'*...always met with a look of incredulity.

i have often wondered though, what really defines the beauty of movement? i know that i'm a rather uneviable dancer (to say the least), but i don't exactly want to dance like those around me...i guess i'll have to innovate, learn the language, and stay away from the most structured forms of dancing (goes against the very pursuit of discovering your individual style).

till then, i'll just swirl my matrix overcoat around and pretend i'm Trinity...here to fight various forces, while the rest of my world can't get enough of 'kajrare'...bear with me fellow party-goers, like you always faithfully have...