Nrityoddha Studio | Dance | Zumba | DanceFit
3rd Floor, Supertech mart, Greater Noida West, Eco Village 2, Bhangel, Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh 201310, India
https://wa.me/918448403283
Nrityoddha Studio stands two flights up a bright teal-painted staircase in a quiet lane off Koregaon Park’s bustling main road. The moment the studio door swings open, the smell of freshly wiped eucalyptus-scented floors and the soft thump of bass filtering through cork-lined walls welcome you. One side of the reception is pure white—so students can mark costumes on the spot—with polaroids already pinned in rainbow rows; the opposite wall is a mood-board of grinning dancers post-show, streaked with sweat and glitter like living confetti.
The main hall measures roughly 1,050 square feet, laid with German shock-absorbent Marley that forgives every mis-placed pirouette yet still gives back spin during street-style freezes. A 12-foot high mirror stretches the entire length, edged by matte-black trussing that holds six LED PARs, two strobes and a soft wash. Behind the mirror hides a snug DJ booth where choreographer-founder Prajakta Deodhar cues drill tracks at bpm-matched tempos—if she drops a 128 bpm reggaeton hit, the hip-hop warm-up at 90 follows seamlessly because of tempo-cross-fading software she engineered herself.
Classes begin on the hour. From 7 a.m. to 9 a.m. the space is softened by dawn light and filled with barefoot Bharatanatyam students; ankle bells become metronomes against tanpura drones emanating from invisible surround speakers. At 9:30, the curtains part for Latin grooves: Zumba gold for seniors circles in the front half, while in the rear mirrored partition lifts to reveal a sprung-wood section where competitive Zumba trainees rehearse formations for national championships. Every monitor flashes a live BPM counter so instructors call “hit the down-beat” exactly when the students need it.
Afternoons belong to DanceFit, Nrityoddha’s trademark hybrid. A digital leaderboard on the back wall tracks heart-rate straps broadcasting from student wrists; scores bloom like graffiti tags. The class sequences Bollywood masala, Afro house, bhangra and k-pop inside five-minute drills, each separated by 30-second mobility recoveries measured by smart-watch vibration nudges. When teal lasers shoot across the floor for the final surya namaskar cooldown, the room smells faintly of matcha—sprayed from an overhead diffuser aimed at lowering cortisol.
Evening slots revolve around rentable rehearsal blocks and pop-up choreography labs. Thursday nights become “Freestyle Friday-Eve” when the mirrors fog with CO2 vapours and local rappers are invited to paint bars while dancers battle impromptu. A small mezzanine loft serves as both parent gallery and café-bar: kombucha on tap, protein brownies stamped with edible QR codes that play the day’s choreography on your phone.
By 11 p.m. the lights dim to midnight violet, and dancers roll up the last vinyl sheet with the ritualistic chant “Nrity se shakti”—movement is power—before locking the door. Outside, the lane smells again of rain-soaked lime trees, proof that the music stopped only for earth’s own remix.
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- Published: August 4, 2025
