The one with a little love

Posted: September 9, 2011 in Hyderabad, The One with a Twist

I went to a disc the other week with some friends of mine. Apart from one of my flatmates no one else in my friend circle love to dance, we just frequent the discs in Hyderabad, have a little booze, and chatter a little… nothing more, So we were in this disc called ‘kismet’ one of the discs in ‘The Park’ and the floor was pretty much crowded. I sat down with one of the girls who accompanied us, and we were looking at the crowd dancing away to glory, careless and energetic… seriously, out of all the places in Hyderabad, I like the crowd in ‘Kismet’ the most.

And then this girl sitting next to me pointed them out to me (funny till that time I didn’t even knew her name, came with another common friend)…
And we saw them – or more specifically, him.

He was dancing as the music wanted him to dance. His moves were smooth and fluid, and he moved as if he is a fish in water. He was tall, well built, and he folded his long legs effortlessly so that he is in level with her… He was Perfect, well I’m not gay… but I guess I have a birthright to appreciate guys, without being mocked as a Gay…  don’t I ?

And now coming to his companion, she definitely had taken her time to dress up for him, in a subtle way. But she was not up to him,visibly hesitant to dance, to match his steps. She was slightly plump, reminded me of Mexican wrap or a warm Kathi Roll (warm chicken would’ve been a better comparison.. but I’m vegetarian so you have to bear with Kathi Roll only.. :P), while he was more like a rainstorm brewing in the mountains (I’m good at poetic comparison too, damn who asked me to became an engineer..!!)

And then, there was HER (read – the poison ivy). The one who looked like a panther out for a kill, with a body, attitude and steps to match. She surveyed the dance floor, took one look at the couple, decided that the man was hers, and set on to stake her claim.

On that dance floor, it was so easy to flirt with another person even if you were dancing with your date.

Me & my friend (though in true terms we were acquaintances till that time, and I guess we still are) sympathized with the girl, what chance did she have with this predator on the prowl?

The Poison Ivy started dancing, slowly, sensuously – like a beautiful coral snake slowly slithering. Half the men in the dance floor (the ones that could see her albeit peripherally) slowed down, were distracted, and some even stopped their dancing to stare at her. And I was honestly blown away by her moves.

But not him. He was focused on his partner, coaxing her, cajoling her, to loosen up, to forget making mistakes in her steps or stepping on his feet. He was dancing, and he was dancing only for her.

Or so we thought. The predator moved slowly towards him, slithering up and slowly starting to wound herself around him. All this done beautifully, discreetly.

He, without a break in the rhythm, stepped around such that his girl was the one who was dancing against her. The put down, was blatant, and it hurt the predator. “WTF!!” she slowly mouthed to her minions who were sitting there, shocked that a common man had dared to turn her down. And that’s too for a Simpleton…

The predator, was up for the challenge. She and her minions started dancing, and they somehow made a semi circle around the girl, who was oblivious to all this and was trying to get her steps right. They started crowding her as if she did not even exist, and a well timed push sent her reeling to edge of the dance floor, to the hard pews where we onlookers were watching in fascination.
We felt bad for her. The fact that she was a clumsy dancer at best was established beyond point with that push. When she was being pushed to anonymity, the predator was dancing in front of him, like a bright black flame of all thing luscious and forbidden. She had the best body, the best dress and the best face in that room. She could dance with him, dance like him.

And he danced maybe half a step, and went to the pews with his girl, timing his step to her missteps such that it all looked like a wonderfully choreographed return to the seats than the mortified return it was supposed to be. Like she was a queen and he was her harem boy. He danced around her, and wrapped her up in a tight embrace at the end of it.

And he did this all, while he was looking into her eyes and setting steps to music.

And no, she did not know what happened. For her, it was nothing more than a night out dancing brought to end by a suddenly overcrowded dance floor.

My other friends who were with us by this time, and are aware of all the happenings on the dance floor (we all have ears and eyes for gossip, and such incidents are not to be missed), who always wanted me to give them an example of how one should love, and here it is guys and gals…
He did not make her realize what he was doing for her – not by word, or deed, or even a momentary glance at her adversary, He was there only for her.

And that night, I believed again in the magic of love…

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Comments
  1. Spectator says:

    Until you wrote it yourself, I was thinking the same myself – Why did you have to become an engineer :Dps – Josh aa gaya padhke 😛 Bas naukri lag jaaye, koi disc nhi chhodna 😀

  2. Akshay Kumar says:

    Being engineer has its own advantages, to earn the disc entry charges, you've to work somewhere… and a place that offers you free internet, free software, plus nice monthly incentive… then I guess it's a good bargain..!!@P.S. : 😀 😀 sure… you must..!!

  3. Manyata says:

    i am pretty sure this is a lot more exaggerated version than it must have really happened.. but still.. loved reading it.. storytelling is an art.. :)and i loved the takeaway from this incident. the magic of love 🙂

  4. Akshay Kumar says:

    @manyata: wherever love is concerned I don't exaggerate… 😛 btw Love itself is exaggerated.. isn't it ??

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