An Editor's Experience At A Bollywood Dance Festival

I’ve had a love-hate relationship with Bollywood music all my life. There were times I went months on end jamming out to classic hits from the 2000s (Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna’s “Mitwa” and Dhoom 2’s “Crazy Kiya Re”). Then when I hit my teen years, I hated Bollywood music with a passion. None of the tunes, singers or outrageous dance videos could get me to change my mind.

Now in my late 20s, I think I’m finally gaining an appreciation for Bollywood music again. But it’s not for the music. It’s for the community of people coming together, belting out their favorite songs when the DJ drops the beat. That’s the vibe I found at the Electric Desi festival this year, and with my pals Vijita and Jeb (Vijita, whom I’ve known since I was only 10 years old), I found a community of beautiful souls, dancing and vibing to our favorite classic Bollywood songs, now with an electronic twist.

Electric Desi happens every year, and the pop-up festival hits a few cities, including New York, Washington DC, and Texas. It’s usually during the month of August, and draws crowds by the hundreds, of all races and cultures.

It’s drinks flowing, awkward dance moves, the obligatory table of aunties watching from a distance, and of course, a dhol man who comes in unceremoniously every few songs to drop a beat.
This year’s lineup saw some amazing South Asian DJs though, including TRIBAHL, DJ Amsal, and Ashish Patel. While I was new to their form of music, my friend Vijita was a steadfast fan, and assured me this is where every EDM lover needed to be.

I was inclined to agree quite quickly. When I heard new twists on old Bollywood numbers, dubstep mixed with classic Bollywood, and some “Holly-Bolly” mashups that wouldn’t even cross my wildest imagination. The DJs brought their A-game and the crowd agreed.

Amongst the heady mix of tequila, Liquid I.V., and big beats, one more thing stood out to me — the outfits.

Women adorned their favorite jhumkas, embellished skorts with scarf tops, and whimsical prints surfaced through the crowd as far as the eye could see.

I myself wore a little outfit from Windsor which screamed fantasy princess with an Indian twist. My gold bracelets, delicate rings, and gem jewelry were what completed my outfit. I also carried a bedazzled bag akin to those you’d see during traditional Indian functions or weddings, and the kind you can only buy from the streets of India.

The festival ran for hours, with throngs of friends filtering in and out, drunken laughs echoing through the bathroom corridors, and DJs finishing up their sets to eventually party with the crowd. Unlike New York’s traditional club scene, everyone seemed friendly and approachable. Different groups meshed together seamlessly, all dancing to the same beat.

It felt less like a seedy Times Square club, more like a Burning Man–esque festival where everyone was a friend. As a woman, I felt incredibly safe, and knew people would look out for me, even if I were to arrive alone — a novelty in the city. I could finally let my hair down and get down to the beat, and dance like no one was watching. And you better believe that I’ll be back next year.

All in all, it was an eclectic, dance-fueled evening where South Asians from every walk of life converged together.