It was in Seattle that I danced for the first time. It was a typical Seattle fall, drizzling, windy and cold. After a day out visiting the local razzmatazz in the city, I was keen to see how the night would shape. I don’t quite recall the name of the club I went to but it was what my hotel concierge had recommended. I remember that I had to wait a while to get an entry but when I did I wondered if I had made the right choice. I was simply overawed by the crowd that had gathered and my first reaction was to head back to the confines of my room. But I decided to stick around just for the sake of music.

Sometimes, when a situation has me cornered, I try to find a safe place from where I can begin. So, instead of going to the dance floor, I picked one of the corners of the bar from where I could be a part of the proceeding, yet maintain space. The bartender was quite friendly and sensed my reluctance to join the crowd. She was quick to get me a margarita and I sat there on the counter sipping my drink and feeling the cells of my body get energized by the sound of the beats. When I mustered enough courage, courtesy the liquid and the music, I began to search for another corner. The bartender smiled a familiar smile; she probably had seen this before. Not finding one, I got up from my seat, moved a few steps into the crowd and started tapping my toes. Not knowing how to dance was a hindrance but I watched and learned, given the circumstances. A reticent individual stepping out to a dance floor on his own was progress and that played at the back of my mind every time I felt like backing out. And then there was the dance floor that also came to my rescue where strangers became your biggest supporters. Just for that brief moment in time, they were someone you could rely on to pull you up every time you fell down, quite literally. The DJ picked up the tempo as the night started to get younger and I lost track of time, space and the universe that lie within. As I exited the club that night, I felt elated. It was probably the rushing adrenaline but the strangers I met taught me that reticence could be overcome with some help and some effort.

Fast forward to Goa, as recent as last week, I was at the Thallasa on a wet Saturday evening. Even though I was in a group, it reminded me of my sojourn in Seattle where I picked a seat next to the bar, got myself a Margarita and let the music make the first impact before I found the courage to venture to the dance floor. That the group I was with was fun and supportive only added to my nostalgia. Though I have danced between then and now, I felt the breaking of some more threads of reticence during this visit where I found myself closer to the reality of what I wanted to become. As I walked away from the venue that evening, I was introspective. The next morning, someone in the group commented that they saw a different side of me the previous night. I agreed but I was unable to pin point the reason why I had changed. Was it because I found some resonance between the two events or was it due to something I had not yet understood? I became quieter for the rest of the visit; it was not voluntary but a reaction I could not control.

Now that I think about it, revealing the self to the world doesn’t come easy to introverts and whenever it does happen, you step back and think about impressions; your own impressions and the footprints that you left behind. And it takes some convincing that you are better now in this new space than the one you were before. That convincing takes time. Till then, it will always be touch and go.