Death by Dance

There are different ways to celebrate a win. Jumping up and down is one of them. As is punching the air. Snake dance is equally effective. What used to be a signature move of a drunken uncle during an Indian wedding became a patent of the Bangladesh cricket team. During the recent T-20 tri-series, the boys in green mastered the ‘naagin dance’ by making it a viral social media trend. 

It all began when Nazmul Islam celebrated a wicket by breaking into an impromptu snake dance. His signature move went over the social media boundary. The bite was so infectious that legendary Sunil Gavaskar began swaying after Dinesh Karthik hit the last ball for a winning six. But there was a catch. While the Indian fans found his euphoric sway cute, the Bangladeshi fans called Gavaskar a baboon. Ouch! 

Truth is, cricket and dance moves go back in time. Remember how West Indies celebrated their T-20 win in 2012 by bursting into celebrations with ‘Gangnam style’. If ‘Gangnam style’ can hook cricketers, why not our home grown ‘snake dance’? 

Dance and celebrations go hand in hand. Once snake dance loses its charm, anything can be next. Bhangra anyone? When the occasion calls for pointless abandon, ‘Balle Balle’ rules, right? 

As for me, nothing intimidates me like dancing in public. It doesn’t matter if it’s a marriage ‘sangeet’ or a cocktail party. All too often, weddings are incidental. It is the choreographed ‘sangeet’ that trumps all ceremonies. Everyone and their bua-ji has perfected their moves. Plus there is an intimidating choreographer more flexible than Tiger Shroff. While you want to be a part of impromptu celebrations, it’s the rehearsed performances that intimidate you. Moreover you belong to the Deol family, with Sunny being your uncle and Sunil Shetty your distant cousin. 

The giggling cousins take over the stage and set the bar so high that nothing you shake can match their performance. You dread the moment when someone will drag you on the floor and nudge you to show what you got. The moves, I mean. Finally someone pulls you centrestage with hundreds of expectant eyes looking at you. While everyone is cheering, you feel like a warrior being thrown in a Roman arena with hungry lions. Aware of your dancing skills, your husband and kids hold their breath. Going with the flow, you attempt something as lovely as Tabu in, ‘Ruk Ruk Ruk, Are Baba Ruk’. 

Dance, as the saying goes, like no one’s watching. But you constantly look over the shoulders to check if your loved ones are embarrassed by your booty shake. 

Finally, the agony ends. Or so you think. Someone made a video of your dance and shares it in the family WA group for posterity. With trepidation you click the play button. 

Oh. Shit. 

The only thing you can draw hope from is watching the legendary Gavaskar doing the snake dance. And feel better. 

Image Courtesy: Hindustan Times, NDTV Sport and Cartoon by Satish Acharya