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Sunday, July 29, 2007

Dance with me baby ... won't you dance with me tonight ... 

Aaaah. I repeat myself. Another visit to a night club and another post about the all familiar sights. Only this time, the event was an Indian one and hence the sights were radically different. And no, I'm not saying that because the DJ, after a round of expletives and "Are u ready for some rocking music" roars, finally unleashed a Himesh crooning. That was hardly what made the night in an Indian party different. It was the characters who flooded the dance floor that made the Indian flavor of the night stand out and boy did they entertain me. And this was the second time in a month that I noticed this. You spot them once, they are probably an anomaly. You spot them twice and I smell a trend. So here's to them and here's to them ...

1. Twenty's a crowd.

Those who thought three's a crowd, think again. People from my generation who learnt about singular and plural from the DD spot of "ek anek" would love to see anek single Indian men in groups in these parties. Now don't get me wrong. All night clubs have single people. For some that is the whole reason for hitting the clubs. Get one and get some - that's there hope. For that they come armoured with button opened shirts, an over dose of cologne, money to buy drinks to all and sundry and a shiny pack of protection. Sometimes, the quintessential wingman accompanies them too. But in Indian parties the scene is very very different. We are no longer talking of A wingMAN, we are talking abt a freakin army of wings. A group of twenty single men???? What were they planning, an orgy fest?? And boy do they dance. Groups of men assume roles of women and play the female fiddle to the beats as the remaining men churn out manly moves. Then then pause, laugh, elbow each other, nudge and point out women who had dared to show a little more skin than others and then swap roles of men and women and continue their dance routines. Seriously, if you have no idea how scary this image might be, imagine this with me - ten men playing Madhuri Dikshit, as a remixed version of Chaney Ki Khet Mein blasts. Bad enough for you? No. Well then imagine three shirt opened heavily moustached, libido oozing Indian naujawan playing Helen and sizzling to Piya Tu Ab to Aaa Jaaa. Duh! Why do you think Piya is nowhere to be found. Grrrrrr!!

2. The Desi Dude.

It's all about contrasts. After the anek lets shift the focus back to the ek. Singleton rules. There are some self proclaimed dudes in the desi parties who were major studs in their hometown of Bhulbhulaiya. The same guy who had perverted uncles repeatedly pressing his cheeks in family gatherings with lines like "Arrey, he looks just like a young Dharmenderrr". So Dharmenderr grew up believing all Hemas are waiting for him round the corner but never reaffirmed his claims. The same guy who always thought he has all female attention focused on him but never actually spoke to a girl. He normally has a look; a look that he thinks does best to his chiseled profile. That with the gel. That with the shirt tucked in carefully only on one side. That with the collar raised. Seriously, the guy wearing the obnoxious green shirt last night - if you are reading this (which I doubt because reading this would involve, errrr, reading), you have no idea how many times I had the urge to just go and pull down your collar, especially because you looked extremely uncomfortable in it, tilting your head at a strange angle to avoid the collar from acting as a capillary tube to your dripping sweat. Yanyways, I digress. So there are these dudes who position themselves in various parts of the club, buy the one drink for the night and just stand and there and sip it. I like that abt them. They do not make moves. They are not there to pick up women. They just stand and look at women and give a nod stating "I know you think I am hot". Then they turn towards the towering mirror and go through the checklist - collar - up, chiselled Zoolander look - there, twisted neck angle - there and return to identifying unsaid fans from the audience.

3. Uncle and Aunty - ahoy.

Please. Please. Please. And in case that aint enough for you - a fourth pretty please. Can you please stop wearing sarees to night clubs. The saree is less sorry if it is an Indian Mela. It is ok if it's Patel Bhai's daughter's birthday and you want to look all traditional. But wearing a saree (and no, not the chic ones but more like a bridal one) to an event where the DJ is called Percussion is just WrOnG with a capital W O and G. I mean there were some young ones dancing last night who made me feel old but then when I spotted the throng of uncle jis and aunty jis doing the jhatkas and the matkas, I felt like a toddler and almost felt guilty being in a club instead of getting my homework done. Seriously did you have to take the ChaCha part of One Two Cha Cha Cha literally. Also, I would like to add to this list the newly wed wives who HAVE to wear a salwar with way too many bangles adorning them to prove their nouveau married status. I mean come on, I am happy that you found someone to dance to your tunes but do you really have to make that statement when dancing to somebody else's tunes (or is it beats)??

And then there were so many more. The one solitary guy who hasn't learnt a move since Mithun rocked with I am a Disco Dancer. He is always there. Churning out one 80s move followed by another. Then there are those first time visitors to US who have heard fancy tales of how clubs are great places to get laid. That's their game plan. They just think they'll come and get laid. They come with so many stories they've heard from friends who returned back to India and during the course of the night their expressions change from that of lust to boredom. They even raise their collar as a final measure of desperation but alas nothing helps. I can write on for a while or maybe I can't and just want to use this as a way to end this post. Whatever it is - I have written a long post and homework awaits me :) So bye.

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