Tuesday, August 13, 2002

Why can’t men dance?

Is not a judgement or a bias…just plain, simple fact.

There are very few men I have come across, who even in an inebriated state beyond redemption can move. Move like their bodies have the ability to and move like the music is part of them. There is an innate rejection of grace and an unconscious blinking in the spotlight. Women dance like they were born to. Sashay, wink, whisper, undulate.

Chatting with an old friend today. Currently in Mauritius. She and I used to absolutely love grooving on the floor. And we loved discotheques with mirrors. We loved dancing with ourselves, watching the motion and the mayhem.
When the music and the lights took over till the point when we stepped out and let our bodies do the talking.
An extremely demanding, heady place to be.

I repeat, very few men I know who can dance.

Philip John, definitely. Like a panther in motion. What a performer!
Motive power of course being, the audience. More the women, sexier his moves;)
But what a mover…
Rahul Sethi…mah guy for adrenalin…all ‘masti’ and abandon…we danced the ‘bhangra’ to every other rhythm in the world. And audience be damned.
Durlov’s another league altogether, an absolute artist; until of course, drunk when he begins sparring with his own shadow, partner be damned.
VKG invents his moves as they come, GM’s awesome when he’s drunk and Handa is a phenomenon.
Pretty limited sample size come to think of it.

Quite paradoxically, in most dances, it is the men that lead. Set the motion, form the choreography and orchestrate the body. What a phenomenal waste.

I remember dancing with a guy called Noy and thinking, if only his patterns could be superimposed onto the entire male population.
It is a joy to dance with the right kind of partner…where the body takes over and all you’re required to do is freefall.
I can watch ‘Dance with me’ ten times over and Al Pacino totally rocks my floor.
And reel life is seldom real..