I noticed the last time I wrote here was in November. While long gaps in between posts are characteristic of only every other blog, I certainly did not intend to start out this way. Not unlike only every other blog.
When I look back on the month gone by (and the year, Happy New Year anyone?), I can't help feeling mostly tired. It's been a crazy month work-wise - I've been taking on all sorts of new tasks and learning all sorts of lessons on communication, negotiation and management. Combine crazy work month with two application deadlines (key takeaway - newfound talent for creative writing) and the usual roller coaster love ride (We're perfect for each other; We need to break up; I love you, I miss you, I &%#^@*$^%). And add to that the bane of Bombay in the winters - Wedding Season.
Wedding madness it is I tell you, the number of invitations I got! Now I am only just getting into the twilight years of singlehood - understandably a phase of multiple simultaneous wedding invites from my fellow Indian whywait-ers, so I am not claiming to have had an event to attend every week or anything. But it was still crazy. The first couple of weddings - I didn't even know the bride or groom. I was always a friend of a friend, invited out of courtesy, there to meet the middlemen friends. Who knew random weddings could be the place of overdue reunions with long lost friends, huh? Ok I knew that. But still, it was all very heart-warming. So I came, I ate, I socialized (oh, newfound talent for genuinely fake-laughing through evenings of awkward social situations!) But then came the biggunn. My Best Friend's Wedding.
Yes, the friend I mentioned before got married. (Hey, I forgot to write about the kickass bachelorette party I helped throw her - that was fun! Yours truly was the makeshift bartender serving makeshift kinky drinks much appreciated by the brides). I can't really express here how overwhelming it was to see the girl I used to share tiffins with all decked in green and red, glittering all over (she has NEVER glittered, the woman wouldn't even wear eye makeup!), obediently touching walnut-like objects in front of the fire as and when the pandit asked her to. And don't even get me started on the bidaai. I didn't think she would cry. I didn't think Uncle would cry. Auntie toh cried. But Vi cried first. Then Auntie. Then Uncle. Then just about everyone. It always looks silly on TV, but, as expected, in real life, with your tiffin buddy, it was pretty hardcore.
Grand reception, elaborate spread, socializing with long lost friends and their moms. Also, Gujju food is seriously underrated. My friend looked like a princess. A princess in pink, glittering again. With movie star hair.
Gosh, it sounds like this whole blog is dedicated to weddings and boyfriends bloody! That is so not what I was going for. Let me change the subject quickly. Bombay rock scene. There! Yeah, something new I'm trying. Big city, small community. Trying to increase awareness about local gigs, new album releases and the like, with the help of a group that started out in Bangalore and is now spreading out in Bombay. Involves a lot of calls, a lot of coordination, much persuasion (damn negotiation, all over again). Might as well put my fledgling managerial skills to good use no? And hey if I absolutely HAVE to attend a few rock shows or interview cute bassists and drummers along the way, I guess that wouldn't be so bad.
PostScript: This doesn't mean the end of wedding madness. Still a couple more coming up, one of which I am actually looking forward to. And this time I will glitter.
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