Para bailar conmigo que necessita una poca de gracia...

Happy Feet Translate into Happy People

Listening to La Bamba for the gazillionth time today as I sat in a classroom in the basement of a shady hotel, filled to the brim with over 350 student, I realised that this was the moment, right there in between that chaos and the tidal wave of human beings surrounding me, when I took charge of my life, when I reclaimed it.

I looked around at all the people, some looking perplexed, some confused, some irritated and some just indifferent and smiled to myself thinking that even though I don't know the names of most of them, they were proving to be the light at the end of the tunnel for me. So, as I put La Bamba on a repeat mode while waiting for the Prof., I started jigging to the song in contained hidden movements while sitting on my chair.

"Yo no soy marinero, yo no soy marinero, soy capitan...soy capitan...soy capitan" and my hands just started independently tapping on the little desk attached to the chair. My feet were moving independently of my body as my shoulders and the rest of the body moved separately...thanks to the year plus dancing lessons, things were not exactly getting ugly. Suddenly, a person who had to go past me to get to his place, tapped me on the shoulder and motioned me to stand up for a moment so he could pass. I don't know what was going on in my mind besides La Bamba which was so all consuming that I smiled at him, got up and did a bit of an impression of what I was doing while sitting...OK the bit lasted for almost a minute during which the entire sea of students had found one common point of focus.

I don't normally like it when people stare at me...guess that goes universally too, but today, I loved the attention, even though I saw some people giving me those contemptuous looks of "who gave her the right to be happy enough to just break out in a dance in the middle of the class". But somehow, it is so hard to care when you are so happy and for no apparent reason. Besides, Ritchi Valens was still screaming his 'cancion' in my ears so even if some condescending comments were murmured, I was blissfully deaf to them.

The song ended about a minute later, and so did my little impromptu performance. So, I just gave everyone a beaming ear to ear smile and a slight fake bow while I took my seat. The Prof walked in about two minutes later which is when I took off the earphones. The Prof suddenly roared into the mic in a somewhat naughty voice, "So, I hear their was a fiesta in the class...without me. Happy to know that happy people take these classes. By the way, when it comes to breaking out in a jig in a public place, there is a thin line between happiness and sanity. I don't know which side the lady stands on but I prefer to think it's the former," he said smiling as we went back to studying about the levels of personality and Freudian interpretation of dreams (not the book...the theory).

When the class got over, I heard people talking about the "semi-mental girl", the "Dancing Queen", "Twinkle Toes" and other such names being discussed which I assumed were a result of my little outburst. Somehow, that made me feel happy. As I started driving my car back home, I had a craving for some more music so the earphones were back in place while I screamed, "Pour some sugar on me" followed by "Show me how to live" and yet again, "La Bamba" at the top of my voice while fellow travellers on the crowded roads gazed in wide wonder. I just smiled at them all because I knew then that everything is going to be just fine now.