Delulu on the Dance Floor!

So… your girl has officially entered her social dancing era. Yes, finally! I now go to actual bachata social nights to dance!

Am I confident? Well, let’s just say… maybe 30% confident (and I know that 30% is doing a lot of heavy lifting).

After learning some bachata basics over the past few months, I decided it is time to take things to the next level. And since Canada is slowly shifting from outdoorsy summer to indoorsy winter life, I thought: Why not spend my evenings dancing at latin nights?

So now, my plan is to show up at one of those parties every now and then and dance with strangers!

It didn’t take long for something truly magical to happen.

And since I’m a little delulu and love to romanticize my life, you know I’m going to write this down to keep it forever as one of my favorite main character moments. (Delulu is the only solulu, right?!)

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Now the real tea…from few weeks back, something straight out of a K-drama.

Actually… let’s call it M-drama… Moni drama, lol.

I was standing near the dance floor while some salsa music was playing. I don’t know salsa yet, so I was just smiling and pretending to be cool.

Then, as a new song was about to start… someone appeared.

A tall, dark, and very good-looking man.

Let’s call him Mr. X (because… mystery).

He walked up to me, extended his hand, and asked sweetly, “Would you like to dance with me?”

I replied, “Umm… is this salsa beats or bachata?” (Because your girl really didn’t want to embarrass herself.)

The music was loud, so he leaned in bit too close, which, excuse me, was already sending butterflies, and asked me to repeat myself.

So, I asked again.

He stepped back to catch the beat, leaned in again, and said, “It’s salsa.”

So, I hesitated. “Oh, I’m still learning bachata, and I don’t really know salsa…” I replied

He just smiled and said, and I quote, ‘Don’t worry about it. Don’t think too much and just follow my lead.”

And I, already melting a little, gave him my hand and said, “Sure!” (Trying to act cool, obviously.)

He took my hand. Instead of staying on the side, he took me straight to middle of the dance floor.

Right. In. The. Center.

With the beat, he took the lead.

He had calm, steady energy that told me that he knew exactly what he was doing. He was not in a rush. It was so reassuring to me, and somehow, I stopped overthinking every step.

He twirled me through most of the song (probably because he quickly figured out that it was the only move I knew)

And I couldn’t help but laugh. Not a fake polite laugh, but a real, mid-spin, “is this actually happening?” kinda laugh.

I couldn’t believe this is my life. Just few months ago, I was watching other people dance, and now I was there, in the center of the floor, being twirled by a stranger who made me feel like I am the main character in a romcom.

At some point, I looked up to catch his eyes. he was already smiling at me like it was natural for him.

His eyes had a quiet confidence that made my anxiety about being a beginner simply vanish. I felt completely myself as if he had just given me a green light to let go and enjoy that moment.

And then… drum roll please …a plot twist

Just as we were saying goodbye, the DJ (Bless his soul) played bachata track.

Mr. X turned back to me and said: “This is bachata now. Do you want to dance more?”

Sir. Do I want to?! HOW could I say no?

So yes, we danced again. And yes, it felt so high school crush energy. but honestly, who’s complaining?

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And now…I have a problem.

Because how am I supposed to be with someone who can’t dance bachata?!

And here’s the final plot twist: Later, my friend told me… Mr. X is Indian!

I was shocked, not because Indians can’t dance, I am Indian, but because I was fully convinced I had just danced with a hot Dominican or something.

I might’ve just met my real-life Shah Rukh Khan of the dance floor.

So now, my standards? They’re soaring higher than ever.

It’s clear: If he can’t dance or at least get a little excited about it then he’s already out of sync with the beat of my heart.

Turns out, delulu isn’t just a solulu, it’s the rhythm that makes living these moments so worth it.

P.S.: I may never see Mr. X again, but if the universe conspires and we ever cross paths and somehow manage to connect on Instagram, just know this post will mysteriously disappear. (Girl gotta look cool, you know?)