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Dancing Louis

Every morning I would see him and I would come to a stop and observe. He is a street dweller. I am used to seeing and not seeing his kind on the streets of our capital. I often cross the street to avoid any contact with them; clutching my bag and quickening my stride. But this particular vagrant grabs my attention because he is waltzing on the pavement. Yes….waltzing. He is doing a ballroom dance amidst persons hustling to work. Some people are annoyed and brush past him, sucking their teeth in annoyance and grumbling under their breath. I am fascinated. I have dubbed him ‘Dancing Louis’.

His arms are positioned in a way to mimic holding a dance partner. His eyes are closed as he twirls and spins on the pavement. His bare feet, caked with the filth of the city streets move dangerously close to the pavement’s edge a number of times but he is oblivious to this. He hums loudly as he dances, smiling at times to reveal very few teeth. This makes me smile. He looks so happy.

He is wearing quite a number of items of clothing; I am unable to decipher exactly what they are. But they are all dirty. Long pieces of coloured strings adorn his wrists and head as some form of accessories. His hair is a matted mess with several bald spots.

He is elegant and graceful in his movement. I am impressed. Perhaps he was a ballroom dance teacher or someone who enjoyed ballroom dancing prior to his present state. But what could have led him to a life on the streets? Maybe his reality is one where he is at some grand event waltzing with a beautiful lady.

“Lady, you want to dance with the mad man?” I am jarred from my musings by the comment made by a passer-by. I shake my head. Dancing Louis has stopped dancing and bows. His eyes are open now. He straightens up, takes in his surroundings and goes on his merry way.

I have seen him since but he is no longer waltzing. He paces the streets shouting obscenities and knocking over garbage bins. I am saddened by this. He is no longer ‘Dancing Louis’.

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