Skip to main content

Party @ Country Club

 30112007439

Someone said this picture would look a lot better than the ration card pic (!!!) in my blog!

 

Being the teetotaler that I am, I kept stuffing myself with chicken in the evening while the others had their fills of beer. The dance floor was a familiar tornado of people egged on by strong rhythm-powered hysteria. Twice was I dragged there, but it was faux pas for me all the way.

 

When fatigue finally overtook and the floor had a semblance of sanity and space, an in-house singer put on the karaoke and hummed a few popular songs. He wore a terribly sad and dejected look, totally jarring with the ambience to which he was expected to surrender. He sang well, but won no adulation. Perhaps experience had taught him not to expect it either.

 

Other guests kept trickling in. One group consisted of a conspicuously shy little girl (must be 5 or 6) celebrating her birthday. An overzealous guardian forced her onto the floor and danced with her. The poor child must have cringed within. The guy looked ludicrous for reasons that now defy my memory. He became the laughing stock of all the onlookers when his clumsy feet failed to keep up with his swelling exuberance and he fell...along with the birthday girl. Poor lady, what a nightmare for her! The embarrassed couple cleared the floor after that, much to the relief of everyone there.

 

Dinner wasn't bad. Vinoth & I left sooner than most to catch a bus back home. The roads are relatively deserted post 2100 hrs and our bus rattled through the way with breakneck speed I had assumed was impossible in Bangalore. The bus wasn't really destined for my preferred stop and I had to alight a long way away from home. As I headed home on foot, I reflected on having trudged the same path during a 2-day training some 70+ days ago. Those were the days Andromeda had just entered my life. My excitement knew no bounds.

 

Things have changed dramatically since then and I wish I could undo some of them.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

This is what Bertrand Russell said about religion...

Religion is based, I think, primarily and mainly upon fear. It is partly the terror of the unknown and partly, as I have said, the wish to feel that you have a kind of elder brother who will stand by you in all your troubles and disputes. ... A good world needs knowledge, kindliness, and courage; it does not need a regretful hankering after the past or a fettering of the free intelligence by the words uttered long ago by ignorant men.

The year that was

I'm wearing a rather striking shirt, one that makes me feel like a clown fooling around in a graveyard. Roving eyes latch on to me and make me too conscious of myself. Checkered in red, grey, black and maroon, I've excused myself into donning it and looking silly for two reasons. It's Friday and…more importantly, the last working day of the year. Tailored half-a-year back, I never had the courage to wear it, not until today. It's that time of the year when it's time to reflect on the events that transpired. Last year ended on the worst possible note. Dad had expired and I was numb with shock. The repercussions rippled halfway thought this year. Things were so abysmal initially that I had lost the will to live. Acrid in everything I did, I was immensely angered by time phlegmatically flowing through its cadence. It was as if Dad meant nothing to anybody. What right did people have to live the way they always had when Dad was no more? Why was much of the world still