Saturday, April 21, 2007

20.4.2007

The setting was lavish. It had to be.

Red was splashed across the entire canvas. And white. And pink, but as an afterthought.

The band played old Hindi songs that spoke of love, life and the after-life.

Little kids dressed in silver suits and golden shoes and starch-white frocks were scattered across the hall, just like glitter. I felt under-dressed.

The families posed. The friends cheered. And the acquaintances, well, at least they ate.

There was no alcohol. There were rituals instead.

Loud Punjabi friends made sure that a select few were kept in 'high spirits.'

An uncle drank too much and break-danced on the dias.

Another uncle wrestled his way into every photograph that was clicked.

People laughed, heels snapped, new-borns cried.

I met an acquaintance who had lost 32 kilos since the last time we had met. I spent an hour with him trying to figure out exactly how he had managed it.

An old school friend showed up. The one who'd managed to finish his MBBS, but still went to bed believing that 'Cradle of Filth' and 'Godsmack' were the greatest musicians of all time.


Someone casually mentioned it was Hitler's birthday and International Weed Day as well. We decided to do something about the latter.
As a result, the rest of the evening was spent at the ice-cream counter.

A close friend wanted to leave early because someone wanted to have sex with him. We convinced him otherwise.

Also, in the middle of all this commotion, somehow, Abhishek and Vrinda managed to wed.


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At his wedding:

Abhishek: Listen TS. About what you asked me on Wednesday - there's a spare room in my new house.. you know.. like a guest room.. so that people can stay over if it gets too late.. or when relatives come over.. but there's just one problem.. Vrinda insists on calling it TS' room.

Me: Awww..

Abhishek: Achha, and about the bachelor party man... what exactly happened? I blacked out while talking to you and then the only image I have is the fucking bouncers trying to put me on a wheelchair!

Me: Oh, nothing yaa, you were like the show-stopper man! All those Saturday Night Fever moves.. I envy your dancing skills! You were completely doing your thing, chilling.. head-banging.. cracking outrageously funny jokes but then.. suddenly.. this.. this.. uh..

(I realized I wasn't doing a good job of fibbing because he was just staring away at me. So I took a deep breath and said the following with the straightest fucking face possible)

"This racoon came out of nowhere and knocked you unconscious."

(Prolonged silence & flashes of Joey)

Abhishek: Hmmm... I think that's what happened too.

(Sheepish grin, followed by hysterical laughter.)
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