"God bless the man who invented sleep"
Sancho Panza in Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes.
Image kindly provided by https://unsplash.com/@dancounsell
So, there we were, somewhere between 55 and 60 degrees North. My wife and I mingling with our friends and soaking up the present like sponges. Our British/Indian friend, like straight from a Bollywood movie, decides to teach the room the "Bollywood Dance" (बॉलीवुड डांस).
“Turn the handle and change the light bulb.” Voilà! or should I write Dekho! Just like that, everyone transforms into backup dancers for "Kala Chashma," but without the invisible sunglasses.
Next up, the Mexicans take centre stage with Salsa moves so intricate and fast, I’m convinced they’ve secretly replaced their limbs with blenders set to "Chop." The dance looks like a fun and dangerous game of Twister—one false move, and someone’s visiting the A&E. (Warning: Not suitable for those on beta blockers).
Then, the younger generation decides to show off their best school dance moves, pulling out a skilful “Gay Gordons” to the sound of the Brolum.
It's an energetic mix of skipping, hopping, and what looks suspiciously like inventing new ways to trip over their own feet while somehow making it look cool.
After witnessing this multi-cultural dance-off, I drag my exhausted self home acquiescing with the sentiment of Sancho Panza and the light bulb goes out.