(6 May ’06)
Thanks to my
salsa dance class I had a couple of invitations to attend a show at Enigma, an
upmarket disco in the five star hotel, JW Marriott at Juhu, Mumbai. My husband
made strange noises about not wanting to do anything ‘strange’, but my newly
found assertion made itself felt and I won. Husband, son, daughter-in-law and I
went dressed ‘appropriately’ in clothes one normally wouldn’t be seen around
in. Mine were all not mine at all. From the shiny metallic-looking shoes to the
shimmering black see-through top, they were borrowed feathers.
First, we had
to battle through a traffic jam that required us to drive the car for over
twelve kilometres in first gear. Then, we stood in a long queue to enter the
disco. Everyone was weirdly dressed so we didn’t feel silly at all. There were
so many people that it was hard to breathe. Fortunately, that was a no-smoking
room so that was a blessing. The dark, the loud music, the crowd, was
uncomfortable to say the least. I avoid religious places and festivals because
of the crowd. It was no different here. There was noise, people dressed to
their teeth, forcing their way in and near the ‘sanctum sanctorum’ where the
‘show’ was to be held.
We were lucky
to be able to sit on a sofa, pushing away all the bums that came our
way….hundreds of them, in all shapes, sizes and covers. When the show began,
one of the bouncers told me I could climb onto the glass shelf at the back of
the sofa. It was safe, he said. So, middle-aged me didn’t hesitate to do so. I
had come here with a purpose, to see my dadaguru, Sandip Soparrkar (the double
r is intentional), dance. And I was going to do just that, come what may. I
remembered words from The Alchemist: when you desire something strongly, the
entire universe conspires to make it happen. I perched on that seemingly
delicate edge and stood my ground for the next hour and half. Fully pregnant
Maria Goretti couldn’t believe, she said, how many people fitted into such a
small place.
Never mind
the dance(s). There were fights happening below me. Entertainment within
entertainment. One woman climbed up in front of me, Mumbai local train style,
and everyone adjusted a couple of inches. But she had annoyed someone standing
at the back and they had a little tiff, first of words, then a little push here
and there. If it wasn’t for the Mumbaikar spirit, there would have been a
casualty. Here, everyone stood on one foot to make space for yet another body.
Sturdy hands supported the fighting women even whilst the show was going on. A
hundred mobile phones were filming the goings on, creating little neon-glow
patterns of their own in that blackness. The bouncers came and asked the
younger ones to climb down lest they fall and hurt themselves. So tightly were
the people packed that few would have got hurt even if someone did fall. Those
who couldn’t see a thing, and there were many, gravitated towards to the bar. A
few couples began to groove to the music and there began a sub-show of sorts.
Good fun, multiple entertainment, from my site. Finally, when I climbed down,
my eyes had got used to the darkness and the brightly lit lobby made a big
(literally) difference.
Not the sort
of thing my sorts do ever, to spend an evening like this. There are many
city-zens who do this regularly, go disco-ing. To me, it’s fun in very small
doses. This experience will last me a couple of years. If one has a penchant
for the ‘happening’ things in life, if one likes to let one’s hair loose and
dance to catchy music, one has little choice but to do so in a disco, I guess. It’s
an exercise in patience, tolerance, and good for the muscles, too.
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