jeans and one pair of tights. Sandeep hates any kind of ‘modern fancy clothes’ as he calls them and so my wardrobe is mostly limited to slightly subdued salwar kameezes and churidars.
Finally, I settle for my sole pair of tights and a loose flowing white cotton shirt, and I tie my hair back in a ponytail. It has been ages since I wore this outfit and, as I glance into the mirror, I am surprised to see how it seems to have taken ten years off me. Always on the slimmer side, I have fortunately not put on weight over the years. Whatever I gained after my pregnancy isn’t too much. I realise that in this outfit and hairstyle, I don’t even look like a mother anymore. I can easily pass off as someone on the threshold of a career.
I feel good to see how smart I look. It surprises me to discover what a huge difference clothes can actually make to the way you view yourself.
As I take an auto rickshaw from home to the salsa class, for some strange reason the words that Neil Armstrong said when he landed on the moon come to my mind: ‘That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.’
I feel as though the distance between my home and the salsa class is very little, yet I seemed to have crossed a huge barrier.
Stop it, Diksha—do not over dramatize. You are here just for a demo class, that’s all.
I try to calm my jittery nerves which seem to have a life of their own. I have half a mind to call this off, get down from the auto and run back to the safety of my home. But I don’t. I force myself to act normal.
I reach the dance studio and climb the stairs to the first floor where our class is to take place. From the outside it looks quite unimpressive, but the moment I enter, it is a different world altogether. There is some really catchy Latino music playing. It is something I have never heard before. The studio is fairly large, about four thousand square feet easily with a wooden flooring throughout. Just outside the large hall with a glass door, which let you see what is going on inside, is the reception area done up entirely in white. This is where Gaurav greets me.
Gaurav is muscular and tall and very good-looking. He can easily pass off for a model. I am mesmerised by his looks. My mind does a ‘wooo-hoo’ inside my head and I ask it to shut up and behave itself. He has a confident manner about him and he extends his hand, ‘Hey there! I am Gaurav, and you are...?’ he asks
‘Diksha,’ I reply as I shake his hand. I get a whiff of cologne and it adds to his sex-appeal.
‘Oh, Gorgeous. Charmed to meet you,’ he says and I cannot help smiling a rather large grin at the words he has chosen.
He then ticks off my name and takes me inside where there are about six students, four guys and two girls.
‘Diksha, these are the others who will be in the demo class with you. We will wait for about ten more minutes. A few others are yet to arrive.’
I nod. Then I see a petite woman dancing by herself in the corner. I am amazed at her movements and grace.
‘Hey, Lorraine,’ calls out Gaurav and she turns towards us, waves and continues dancing.
‘Diksha, that is Lorraine, one of our senior instructors. We will have a mix of experienced people and beginners for this class. Varun, our other instructor will also be joining us shortly. Now feel at home and we will start in fifteen minutes,’ he says as he leaves me in the studio.
The other six look as lost as me. It is clearly their first time and we all stare in fascination at Lorraine who seems to be oblivious to us, as she sways her hips and practises the most complicated moves with ease and panache.
I am not sure what conversation to make with these people and so I keep quiet.
One of the guys approaches me and extends his hand.
‘Gagan,’ he says.
‘Diksha,’ I offer and realise as I shake his hands that they are clammy with sweat. I do not like it at all.
‘First time?’ he asks
‘Yes,’ I reply, trying to avoid
Finally, I settle for my sole pair of tights and a loose flowing white cotton shirt, and I tie my hair back in a ponytail. It has been ages since I wore this outfit and, as I glance into the mirror, I am surprised to see how it seems to have taken ten years off me. Always on the slimmer side, I have fortunately not put on weight over the years. Whatever I gained after my pregnancy isn’t too much. I realise that in this outfit and hairstyle, I don’t even look like a mother anymore. I can easily pass off as someone on the threshold of a career.
I feel good to see how smart I look. It surprises me to discover what a huge difference clothes can actually make to the way you view yourself.
As I take an auto rickshaw from home to the salsa class, for some strange reason the words that Neil Armstrong said when he landed on the moon come to my mind: ‘That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.’
I feel as though the distance between my home and the salsa class is very little, yet I seemed to have crossed a huge barrier.
Stop it, Diksha—do not over dramatize. You are here just for a demo class, that’s all.
I try to calm my jittery nerves which seem to have a life of their own. I have half a mind to call this off, get down from the auto and run back to the safety of my home. But I don’t. I force myself to act normal.
I reach the dance studio and climb the stairs to the first floor where our class is to take place. From the outside it looks quite unimpressive, but the moment I enter, it is a different world altogether. There is some really catchy Latino music playing. It is something I have never heard before. The studio is fairly large, about four thousand square feet easily with a wooden flooring throughout. Just outside the large hall with a glass door, which let you see what is going on inside, is the reception area done up entirely in white. This is where Gaurav greets me.
Gaurav is muscular and tall and very good-looking. He can easily pass off for a model. I am mesmerised by his looks. My mind does a ‘wooo-hoo’ inside my head and I ask it to shut up and behave itself. He has a confident manner about him and he extends his hand, ‘Hey there! I am Gaurav, and you are...?’ he asks
‘Diksha,’ I reply as I shake his hand. I get a whiff of cologne and it adds to his sex-appeal.
‘Oh, Gorgeous. Charmed to meet you,’ he says and I cannot help smiling a rather large grin at the words he has chosen.
He then ticks off my name and takes me inside where there are about six students, four guys and two girls.
‘Diksha, these are the others who will be in the demo class with you. We will wait for about ten more minutes. A few others are yet to arrive.’
I nod. Then I see a petite woman dancing by herself in the corner. I am amazed at her movements and grace.
‘Hey, Lorraine,’ calls out Gaurav and she turns towards us, waves and continues dancing.
‘Diksha, that is Lorraine, one of our senior instructors. We will have a mix of experienced people and beginners for this class. Varun, our other instructor will also be joining us shortly. Now feel at home and we will start in fifteen minutes,’ he says as he leaves me in the studio.
The other six look as lost as me. It is clearly their first time and we all stare in fascination at Lorraine who seems to be oblivious to us, as she sways her hips and practises the most complicated moves with ease and panache.
I am not sure what conversation to make with these people and so I keep quiet.
One of the guys approaches me and extends his hand.
‘Gagan,’ he says.
‘Diksha,’ I offer and realise as I shake his hands that they are clammy with sweat. I do not like it at all.
‘First time?’ he asks
‘Yes,’ I reply, trying to avoid
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