They are all dancing, swaying their bodies, in tune with the music the band plays – moving slow and gentle when a ballad is sung and swinging and shaking hard when an up-tempo is blasted.
I sit quietly in one corner of the room, unnoticed but not completely unaffected by the celebration. I am miles away somewhere lost in my own dance, staring blindly at the moving blur of human bodies connecting with each other.
I once knew how to dance. It was when I was in love – madly, incorrigibly in love. I sang my life in my melodies. She danced her life in her rhythms. Together we sang and we danced our blues away.
Then one day, we fell out of tune. She had discovered a new rhythm. I tried hard and I tried long, but I could not arrange myself to play along with her. She left and I fell into silence.
I am not uninvited. Thankfully, I am unattended. Most were weary of the uncomfortable silence my company exuded. Few close friends smile at me from time to time, acknowledging my presence.
“Dance with me.”
She looks down at me, standing gracefully, her hands extended towards me.
She is the reason I am here tonight. I knew she was back in town. I heard she was flying solo these days. I could not resist the chance of seeing her again.
Her absence disappointed me. And I was lost in the crowd. She is here now, fashionably late, as always.
“I am not sure I remember how.”
“Some things you never forget.”
I hold her hand and she guides me to the dance floor. Curious eyes follow us but we are oblivious to it all. She guides me slow. She guides me well. I move and sway with her body. We find our rhythm again.
Yes, some things you never forget. All it takes is a little help, a slight nudge and soon it all falls back into place; like it never really left you.