Bombay Dreams may have finished its run on Broadway, but New York City's South Asian music and dance scene is alive and thriving. Just ask Pooja Narang, choreographer, founder and director of Bollywood Axion, an Indian dance troupe based just around the corner from Times Square. "The first thing I do every morning is check how many people emailed me for information about my classes," Narang says. She generally has 45 new messages in her inbox. The 27-year-old Toronto native has been living in Queens for only three years, but her high-energy Indian dance classes have created a quiet sensation, catching on among locals faster than a Bollywood movie breaks into song.

What began as an experiment—to see how many people would show up for an upbeat dance class mixing classical Indian technique with modern jazz moves—has evolved into a one-woman enterprise. Narang's teaching schedule has grown from that initial class (mere word-of-mouth drew more than 30) into a full-time job. She now teaches two hours on Sundays and Mondays for adults of all levels and two children's classes on Friday afternoons in Westchester, New York. In addition, she conducts private lessons "for people preparing for a wedding or competition, or who are just a little more shy." She selects 10 to 15 of the strongest dancers in her classes to join Bollywood Axion, her two-year-old company that rehearses and performs at universities and cultural events throughout the city. Last summer she choreographed her first Hollywood film, The Gold Bracelet (directed by Jack Conroy), to be featured at independent film festivals this year, and she currently has another major movie in the works. On top of that, she recently offered her first traditional Bollywood acting workshop "because people were asking for it."

Narang doesn't seem like the theatrical type. She is humble and reserved, with a soft voice and heavy, downcast eyes. Dressed in a baggy black jumpsuit and dance sneakers with no makeup except for the lavender shadow dusting her eyelids, her appearance is a far cry from the glamour and glitz of Bollywood. But she has been entertaining all of her life.

"I started dancing 13 years ago and am mostly self-trained," she says. "I'm a big fan of Bollywood films and watch every one. Madhuri Dixit is one of the best dancers in the Indian film industry, and I would try to follow her and copy the steps to see if I could dance like her." In her early twenties, Narang began training with Saroj Khan, a famous Bollywood choreographer, and later with Shiamak Davar, whose unique dance style greatly influenced her own. "He choreographed one movie, Dil To Pagal Hai (The Heart is Crazy), that incorporated Indo-jazz, meaning the leg and body movements were jazz but the hand movements and melodramatic facial expressions were Indian." Today, seven of the eight or so songs in a Bollywood film have Western-influenced beats and more modern dance choreography, Narang explains. The cultural fusion took shape in the early 1990s and has been welcome among Indians. "They like change, too," she laughs.

Her typical class begins with stretching in silence. Even on the first day of a new semester, Narang offers no introduction, welcome or sunny pep talk. The students are a true mix: men and women of all races and ages (the youngest, 11, shifts her retainer during pauses in the dancing; the oldest arrives in Burberry-patterned sandals), some with formal training and some very clearly without. About half are South Asian. Most are young professionals—doctors, lawyers, financial analysts—looking for a fun way to release stress at the end of a workday. "Everyone's here because they want to be," says Renu Kansal, a 29-year-old member of Bollywood Axion. "We relax and chill out and have a good time. It's not like the New York City Ballet where an old lady's whipping you with a cane. And it beats the hell out of a stairclimber."

After the warm-up, Narang begins breaking down the basic steps of bhangra, a popular dance that originated in the Punjab region where her own family is from. She never prepares for class or choreographs before a rehearsal. "I think it up on the spot," she declares. "I just have to listen to a beat and the steps come to me. The music has grown in me. It comes from within." Students praise Narang's patience and encouragement: "She can pull confidence out of you." When a few dancers in the class struggle with a quick shoulder-shrugging movement, Narang pauses thoughtfully and says, "If you can't get it tonight, just practice it at home." Then she presses play on her portable CD player and leads the routine to an infectious, pulsating rhythm, the same one that you can hear pouring out of SOB's during a sweaty Basement Bhangra session. "When I hear a song for the first time, I can usually tell if it's going to be a big hit," Narang says proudly. Those are the ones she brings to class, so her students will know some moves when they encounter them in a club.

Narang is not surprised by the sudden surge of interest in all things Bollywood. "People in New York are inclined to try new things," she says, tucking a chunk of long, dark hair behind her ear. "Non-Indian students are drawn to the films because the dancing and music are so different. I went to Vegas and saw The Lord of the Dance, and it made me want to get up and dance [like that]. People like learning about another culture." That's why she thinks Bollywood will be ubiquitous in mainstream America in just a few decades. But for now, while it's just marginal enough to be hip, you can get a taste of it in a tiny midtown dance studio. Just follow the hodgepodge of New Yorkers stepping along to an internal bhangra beat.