Shaking a leg or two

Every year the end of October signals the organizing of a Diwali bash by the Indian Students Association. After the cultural programmes and dinner, the real fun begins. Chairs are removed from the ballroom, Indian music of all types blares from the speakers, and inhibitions are thrown to the wind as dancers of all skill levels converge onto the dance floor.

Three hours go by in a blur of movement. Most of the songs are, by now, totally unknown to me but the beat, the rhythm, and the sensation are still the same. Everyone's feet and hands move on their own accord. Each of us dances to a different drummer, and semi-organized pandemonium of the best kind follows.