I was sipping Pepsi diluted with cold water in the front row to the dance floor. The air was misty due to a rather eager smoke-machine, which a few couples misread as romantic and tried holding hands on stage. The marriage ceremony as a matter of principle was very boring, until the DJ played a popular dance song in an incomprehensible language. The marriage hall started buzzing with one name “Jakson”, apparently a guest known to dance expertly to this song. He was pushed towards the dance floor.

Everybody, himself included were behaving as if he was a big deal. He was pushed ahead, almost shoved. He genuflected in front of the floor and touched it with his right hand. After pressing hand to forehead he kissed it and then spat to a side. The dancer before him had not had clean shoes. He flicked the wrist signalling something to the DJ but was snubbed. He shouted loudly asking the song to be replayed. The DJ still could not (would not?) hear. Presently he walked over and asked to replay the song. Finally he payed fifty rupees to the DJ after some uncles intervened. The music started and dancer began be-popping or whatever that was.

45 seconds into the dance and everybody knew it was 44 seconds too long. If dancing had any fiscal deficit or cliff or any such terrible crisis, then the cause was clear to me. His dance was as embarrassing as a kiss in a 90’s movie. To put it succinctly, he was like a condom advertisement on national TV. You could not take your eyes off for the fear of being blamed to know too much.

They say a man had danced in front of Napoleon on the eve of Waterloo when he had refused Josephine, preferring instead to stay in court for the performance of “Jacques”. Another person named “Jakir” had danced in the court of Bahadur Shah Jafar on the eve of the 1857 uprising (causes of failure are attributed to a lack of coordination, which is utter crap, I don’t know why nobody ever cared to double check it.) Tomorrow is the world cup final 2003, between India and Australia in Johannesburg, and this man should not have danced. Is it too late already?

He bluffed me while looking like he was getting off the floor after two minutes. He was tireless, drunk with confidence (of what ?). People are talking about the day he danced right into a coma. Right now he is throbbing like a strobe light. An uncle was carried out the back door because of an epilepsy attack. Somebody stop him, is there no God? There was. The smoke machine crackled and faulted, leaving everybody blind with smoke. This was a perfect end to the show. When the smoke cleared everyone had left except “Jakson”, who like a bad political argument was staring right into my face.

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