This is not a funny post

A pompous arrogant prick is what I was projected as when I refused to come over for Garba. At the time I took offence to such allegations, for no man in his right mind would want to have himself shake some booty and be the subject of public humiliation! It is a commonly accepted fact that when it comes to flexibility, women far outrun men, especially when it comes to dancing. Give a woman a man who knows his salsa and rumba, not to forget the tango and she'll probably get a short-lived orgasm at the mere mention of it. Pardon my crudeness at this stage, but I really believe the imagery does justice to the connotation ;)

Well enough discussed about the beauty versus beast on the subject of elegance. Two years at Ahmedabad and not once had I been part of the Garba. In my defense, Ahmedabad isn't particularly renowned for the celebration of Mata Ambe in the most fascinating and enticing way, but still, the experience of a collective dance to the tunes of pure Gujarati melodies should have been reason enough. Anyways, moving further from repentance, my brief stint at Mumbai was enough to get that little elf juggling in my head egging me on to go to Baroda to be part of United Ways that, justifiably so, is one of the best places to do the Garba.

Now every little elf has an evil twin, and unfortunately for me, evil reigns supreme at times. I blame my uncanny wit for it. Trust me, humility is not my thing anymore! ;) So while the cute little elf inside was gleefully juggling around, the vile sibling started brewing up a cloud of uncertainty and indecision, an air of shame that corrupted the very excitement of being part of something so enjoyable. Now it would be easy to preach to me that at moments like this, I should introspect and believe in myself and the spirit of the Garba which is to enjoy. Too difficult. But yes, I do realise, there is a stronger power at work here, the power of friends taunting your happiness away. I have two such annoying imbeciles who think it fit to get a whip out and lash me with it whenever the opportunity arises. It is their unrelenting sense of obligation to make me do something which would be good for me that probably has made me enjoy a lot of stuff in the past as well :)

So there I was, in Baroda, a cancelled flight and weird altercation with Shakti Kapoor later, in my kurta pyjama, waiting to leave for the Garba grounds. I must say, in retrospect, I wasn't scared, or anxious, just taken in with an overwhelming sense of awe when I saw all my friends, old and new, dressed up remarkably beautifully! Makes you appreciate Indian beauty all the more. Oh come on ladies, am complimenting you, there is no need to go "hawwww" 'bout it! ;) Colourful is not the word I am looking for, it was more than that, brilliant probably. How they all came up with so much variations in the colour combinations, the dressing styles, with a basic concept of a chaniya-choli was mind-boggling. Trinkets, necklaces, bangles, payals, jhumars - it all just made the effect so, grand.

I was in a plain olive green kurta pyjama, just for the record.

We moved to the grounds. I never fantasised about counting stars while I was a little kid, but that day I was so amazed by the number of people around, that counting them all just seemed so inviting. I would love to count each and every one of them, and as the number grew it would make me all the more exhilarated to know am one among ALL of them! I know by this time you're just too tired of waiting for the part where I take the wrong steps and I either fall down or run someone over with my robotic antics. To be honest, I would have loved for someone else to describe that part for me *ahem ahem cough cough - take the hint!* so am going to give it a window of say, my stay in Delhi to come up with a description of my "performance" as it were, after which I shall myself have to come up with what I thought of it :)

And oh yes, this post is far from over here, lets not forget I did the Garba for 2 days - that has got to count for something! ;) Until we meet next.

Adios.