Let the paurteee end...

FOOD, FRIENDS, music and some frothy stuff. Tempting, eh? The mother of all parties, the New Year eve bash, has arrived and with it has brought soaring spirits.

Confetti floats. Corks pop, and champagne flows. Yes, the party is on. But, all isn't well as there are pitfalls a lot many. First and foremost the inevitable soak pit - in party vocabulary, this is the one dug by revellers after soaking themselves in one drink too many!

Walk into any private do in those treasured resorts on the city outskirts, what one forgets is that parties are an occasion to socialise and not just to drink till the nose. Or, hog all the food that is spread. Quiet conversations are rare; clean partying much more rarer.

That would mean less of socialising and more of wining and dining. But that's for the next paurteeee. Nah...what the heck, who knows when it's gonna come by again? Make hay while the sun shines er... the moon shimmers.

Apna Hyderabad mein aisaich hota hai? Hai nah? Hai nah? Hai nah? Khao, peevo, majhe karo, that's the bottomline. Socialising is easier said than done. While it's easy to mix with those persons whom you are familiar with, the catch comes when strangers drop in. And in Hyderabad, be prepared to meet multiples of them for everyone loves to bring in near and dear wherever they go - community celebrations, you see!

And then, there are the inevitable gatecrashers. Endowed with connections that can put even a cable guy to shame and noses that can smell a paurteeee from miles, these men (yes, these are the inevitable single men...stags in party parlance, that pesky, unwanted, untouchable creed) come with slippery limbs.

They do the best thing - beg or bribe, they have slippery hands to grease the watchmen and limbs ingrained with enough horse power to take the security men for the run of their lives! Two rounds down, just look at the middle aged men and the stags with their eyes popping out of the sockets ogling at those shapely things on the dance floor. Not even the most condescending looks can put back the eyes into those dark pouches. If only looks could kill!

The mood of the party of course depends on who is throwing one - our denizens are the first to throw in the towel when it comes to hosting one - and the setting. Setting? `Kahi bhi kabhi bhi, jo chaho ho jaye daaru to ho jaye', enjoy! Amid the sounds of tinkling glasses and the rustle of shimmering silk, you have this intellectual log disseminating pearls of wisdom, the artiste log peering into the stars and the khubsoorat log zipping past all over the place, showing off their latest designer outfits and diamonds imported straight from a mine in Kimberly.

Then, there are the ubiquitous we-know-all kinds trying to drive home the strength of panama leather and what it takes to tee on a golf course. Basics such as when to talk, how to talk, when to keep the lips sealed, how much to drink and eat, etc all hold no water. Nor does liquor as gallons evaporate. Indeed, the paurteee is in deep waters!

By K.V.S. Madhav

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