Salsa in Shell, Cyberjaya

It was a sweltering afternoon in sun-baked Cyberjaya. Across the barren land, there were little signs of life. But within the four, air-conditioned walls of the studio room in the Shell headquarters, people were abuzz about the latest dance craze in town – salsa. Evening classes had commenced a month ago but, like all people addicted to this intoxicating dance, it was not enough. Led by the striking Latin and now Salsa competitor, James, the dozen or so folks tentatively practiced their steps in varied positions and pace. The mastermind of the session, Tim, was in the crowd, guiding a beginner salsera like the experienced pro he now is – though he will claim to be otherwise. Lurking in the corner almost unnoticed was another familiar face from the clubs – the tall, unassuming Jason.

In the background, Acuyeye was blasting through the speakers, bringing back fresh memories of sexy salsa nights in the heart of Kay-El. And spanning over ten meters space was the very wooden, very inviting floorboard.

I stared lustfully at the dance studio as the rhythm drummed into my head and turn me dizzy with an eclectic mix of feelings. There was ecstasy. There was nostalgia and there was excitement which grew as steadily as the beat of salsa.

In appearance, my body was sensibly cloaked in a loose, knitted blouse and well fitting denim suitable for the dreary office of tmnet – perfect for my practiced nonchalant attitude towards the session. But inside, a growing rumbling stronger than my sensibilities rolled through my veins up to my fingertips, and I felt my hand tighten around my tiny feet insensibly strapped in a pair of Marie Claire kitten heels. In the magnetic chorus of the track, the shoes came off.

“It’s just practice. I won’t get carried away,” I heard a faint voice telling myself.

Then I vaguely remembered my hand going up to my head and unclasping the school-like clip that kept my hair neatly in a bun. My wavy locks tumbled earthwards with my resolution.

Even as I steeled myself to act sensibly in front of this sea of strangers, I felt every fiber, every inch of my muscles weakening and giving in to the music.

And when Tim walked over with that pixie smile – so gentle yet mischievous like a schoolboy planning to pull a prank…

When Tim took my hand for a dance, I knew my three-week hiatus from the salsa scene was over.



;-P