Monday, March 24, 2008

Swung out

"If I could tell you what it meant,
there would be no point in dancing it"
- Isadora Duncan

We were driving along foothill express heading North, when S almost carelessly rammed his car into the median following a left turn. He was pre-occupied with something. Thanks to his cognition, resurrection of his senses and some timely "not-so-loud-i dont-want-to-panic-u" alarm from his co-passenger, S lifted his head in time and cried "&^%#" with a much needed steering away from the median. A few deep breaths later we were at Roble gym, Stanford University, were we learned "swing". Swing as in dance and not as in what Sir Wasim Akram would associate himself with.

Swing, is a ballroom dance of sorts mostly to jazz music and has many variants. Men usually lead while women usually follow. For couples who do not think straight this may change.

Its an ideal medium to communicate. A treat to your senses. You see, smell, feel, listen, smile, think, count and communicate all at once. All overlapping. Synesthesia !

I didn't find it vulgar or arousing.
I'm single.
So definitely not vulgar or arousing.

Its romantic.
I'm single. (read romantically challenged)
So its definitely romantic.

Its already on the bucket list, to swing with that special lady, my better half.

We had a girl in mind. She had a simple smile. Genuine and elegant which applies to her dancing too. We changed partners every 5 minutes or so, so as to promiscuously promote flexibility in partnering. So we knew how every lady in the room looked like and danced like. Sometimes even how they smelt like and vice versa. In short, we clearly knew whom we liked.

The previous class, I had decided to ask her to be my dance partner, if she had plans of taking her swing skill further. I told this to S and he had a liking for her too. So, we being good- friends, good-Samaritans and half baked computer science wannabe geeks, decided that FCFS i.e "first come first serve" was a good way to elect the winner. So if one of us ask her the other should back off. Keep in mind that this is not equivalent to asking someone out, this is asking someone to learn dance with you. To feel the chemistry and hence be able to enjoy the dance better.

The dance class started, luckily S had her as the first partner and I was right besides him so if he missed I would hit her next, when we switched partner one place to the right. We agreed upon a 'sign', (as in a gesture) which meant S has nailed it and I had lost and vide-versa. He missed it, then I missed it and it went on for a while. Understandably we, or at least I, was engrossed with fox-trot and jitterbug tips that our tutor was explaining. Also being this 'courteous gentleman' to your partner, took more CPU time than the dance itself (especially for people like me who are inept at being overtly courteous).

The class was about to get over and with time we moved apart within the hall. When it was over, we were at diametrically opposite ends. I was standing with this beautiful old lady who danced better than most of the other ladies in the room and S was with her. S started talking to her, when the tutor started his farewell speech. S got her email Id. I got the gesture from S. S won and I lost.

For some reason it never bothered me, which was surprising to me. My ego was intact and unhurt. But 4 weeks earlier, during the first swing class when there was exactly one less lady and I was 'randomly' chosen to stand alone until a lady joined the class late and I stood for 5 minutes ALONE, waiting for a illusive latecomer. It almost made me cry, mostly because it was the first valentine's day I looked forward too; It was indeed a great improvement to be unhurt. S had the balls, and he swung them well. For me its fate, luck, destiny et cetera. A weird feeling swept through me. It was exactly half way through "happy" and "sad" and its very hard to explain in words. If I could tell you what it meant, there would be no point in dancing.

P.S 'she' never replied to S's email.


Brat said...

S almost rammed his car into a median? I see he's still on the "I'm gonna park my car at the intersection" mode ;-)

On another note, I see your taking more CPU time didn't help after all, did it? An alternative algorithm might have worked better ;-)

Macadamia The Nut said...

Aww! You're one of the few guys I know who volunteer to learn dancing (whatever the ends may be). In our class sometimes we end up dancing with other girls :|

Sriram said...

hmmm...I thought you were a dance nut.. only now do I realise why :)

germinal dreamer said...

@ brat: S has definitely improved his driving i must say.
FCFS is the most democratic of all algorithms!

@mac: i know, the same happened in our class too.. if it ever happend the otherway with more men, am sure I will be standing alone knowing my luck well or worse forced to follow by another male!

@sriram: its like we eat food for the purpose of surviving but also for the taste, we wudn't be eating jus bland plain vegetables, if its jus survival alone.. similarly, basically i'm a dance nut, but this dance is better if thrs some chemistry b/w the dancers.. i wanted to experience that.. S is of the kind u r referring too! sorry S cudn't resist

Sriram said...

ha ha.. never heard that one before.. but true nevertheless.. btw, who is S?

Warm Sea said...

It funny how you didn't feel a thing when S got her email ID.Maybe it has something to do that the other character in the story happened to be 'S' and he'll eventually screw it up anyways!!lol

germinal dreamer said...

@ sriram: S == siddhu is highly improbable as u wud have guessed.. he and dance are light years apart. This S is someone whom u do not know.

@ warm see: yeah rht S is as capable as me but not as bad as me either. the feeling is like this: when u lose u feel bad, but u lose so often some fine day u dont feel the pain of the loss and this invokes feeling, which is very precise and ppl haven't coined a word for it.

Pranay said...

Commenting by the time u have written two other posts...but it deserves to be commented...LMAO!!!!!!
Damn funny post.