I dance with Fitness Marshall, to whose YouTube video I'm partial. Suddenly a bejeweled figure whirling, in a corner of the screen. Is that Pryanka turning and twirling, in a Bollywood movie I haven't seen? The music in old old black and white "Awaara", so distinct, so sad, but strangely you can dance to it. The beats in old "Sargam" make you dance until your feet split. Then we switched from importing old Indian movies to old Hollywood movies with Gregory Pike and Ingrid Bergman. It was said this was all we could afford. Now the real life Indian boys and girls are engineers in New Jersey. Their children don't dance anymore, but ace those Spelling Bees. No matter what they do--science, business or vocab competition, they would always dance in my dream, they would always tell me: your body, your limbs, your eyes, your neck want to tell a story, most beautiful story there is, implicitly and explicitly.