The sinking feeling when you see celebrations around and miss being part of it and then the crazy shift when you force the surroundings to make you part of it.

Being new to Mumbai I am super excited to live its traditions, to know about it culture and being a travel maniac to explore the nook and corner of it and of course the Mumbai delicacies.

Its festive time here and today is the final day of Ganesh Visarajan. On my way back I saw people dancing on the beat of dhol. The air I was breathing, smelled of happiness, smelled of excitement, the air I was breathing, smelled of ‘gulal’. The sweaty bodies were not tired today because this sweat was of joy, the sweat was of laughter, the sweat was of DANCE. And the reality hit me hander, sitting inside my bus going back to home, I missed people who could accompany me in satiating my devilish hunger pangs. I reached the gate of my society and saw happy faces dancing, tapping their feet, loosing their worries and relaxing their souls as rain trickle down on their bodies. That’s it! I can’t just sit and watch, my feet are made to dance. So I kept my bag at my room and came down to be the part of celebrations. I knew no body over there. People were pulling each other for dance and I was hoping if somebody can pull me too! And I heard my soul speaking to me; since when do I need a push to dance. So I just thrust into a group of ladies and started dancing (I wanted to turn back and say, looking into camera, ‘yea man! That’s the way’).

Now that bit crazy coz they all knew each other and I could see they sensed the stranger dancing inside their circle! (‘war zone’! ‘war zone’! ‘war zone’!).

But then when did the dance get personified. It knows no bounds. Dance is an elixir that frees the soul from the shackles of identity. Its uniform and at the same time its individual yet it’s not personal!


It’s the genre of free spirits so I let my free spirit to frolic in the wind of ‘gulal’ on the beat of ‘dhol’.


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