So I was asking KC about our neighbors who have not been seen in weeks. The only sign that they haven’t shifted flats (they are supposed to soon) yet are the cycles outside the house.
Me : They had come last year to wish us on Diwali, right?
KC : Yes
Me : Why were we not home?
KC : We went somewhere
Me : Where?
KC : Don’t remember
Me : How can we forget a trip we took?
KC : Oh wait… you went to your house and I went to mine
Me : No wonder I blocked it out of my mind
Yep… Last year’s Diwali was pretty much crap. In fact, any Diwali we have not spent in Goa has been crap. The year before this – 2012… I had shifted to Mumbai 2 weeks earlier and we spent Diwali there. On day 1 we went to Marine Drive… day 2 Bandra… day 3 Essel World (don’t laugh… have wanted to go there for ages… was a big disappointment) and then we were bored because Mumbai has nothing to offer. On the last day of holiday Bal Thackeray passed away and the entire city was shut down. How can a party which is not in power have so much control is beyond me. There was no transport or food and we survived on cup noodles. The next day we went to the airport for KC’s flight in a local bus. No kidding.
Anyway, this post is an ode to my oldest dress which has seen a lot of weddings and Diwali events over the years. I joined work in 2007 and carried 1 bag with me. It had formals and market wear (Fab India kurtas/jeans/floaters). In 2008 when I was posted in Gurgaon a senior colleague invited everyone for her brother’s wedding in Noida. I didn’t take it seriously and had no plans to attend. I mean, it was her brother’s wedding. I still remember that day clearly… R, his flatmate and I had gone to Akshardham in Noida. It was a weekday holiday and the alternate was to kill time in a mall in Gurgaon. I chose the former even though temples are mighty boring. In fact, R had taken me for a first date to Akshardham in Gandhinagar 5 years earlier which is really a WTF because am hardly religious (to put it mildly). In my defense, he did not tell me till we reached the destination. It was supposed to be this big surprise and all.
*Give me a minute while I pick myself up from the floor where I have been rolling with laughter*
Obviously the relationship didn’t happen because a date at a temple equals ‘stay the fuck away from this guy’ according to me. Coming back, on THAT day Akshardham was closed because it was a Monday and we headed to South Ex where I window shopped at Globus and wound up the day with some chaat. Thats when another senior called and told me I had to be there for the wedding. He had recruited me so his word was obviously law. So, I wore what was available – black trousers with a dressy top at a DELHI (or Noida… same thing) wedding. I was under dressed is an understatement. One of my female colleagues who would wear men’s trousers to work was dressed in an ornate anarkali and with full make up on. Sigh!!!
When the next wedding- again, another colleague, was around the corner I bought a nice, blingy white and gold suit. It wasn’t OTT but good enough to fit into a Delhi wedding. Buying Indian wear is the most difficult thing for me. I lose any judgement of colour/style/cut/cloth. I cannot differentiate between good and bad. Its like I go blank and have no clue. So, buying this dress was a big torture and one I never want to go through again.
I have been wearing it year after year after year for weddings… or the day after my own wedding when you have to be dressed up for some reason… or Diwali Pujas which demand traditional Indian wear (though I generally bunk the Puja itself).
Except for today when the suit has died on me and I cannot wear it ever again. *a minute of silence*
And now I may have to buy something new for next year’s Diwali … or I could just take the day off and bunk the entire festival celebration at work.
As for weddings, I have been reusing the wedding sarees. I wore one at RT’s wedding and realized they fit right in. No thinking or choosing or buying new stuff… *silently remembers Khushi who helped pick them out*