My cerebral tubes are probably choked with Manchurian, Chaap, and Shahi Paneer, in multiple servings to satiate this evening's foodie that had been eager to attend his first wedding of the season. Finally, after committing to two other weddings (as a guest), where the wedding couple itself broke off commitments prematurely, I get one to attend in all fanfare. Disclaimer, that being in my league means almost commenting from a cave - social events are rare, rarer still are the ones I do attend.
One thing for sure, is that being abandoned is no fun (aka being a guest on behalf of yourself, as against the earlier routine when it was the parents we used to tag with and everything used to be 'on behalf of' them). I am newly-abandoned, so I could be led to confuse my unethusiastic impulse for inexperience, and linger on in the hope that there is some silver lining. But really, the only silver lining, as I've come to find is just that palpitational feeling of rubbing shoulder with lardbags in suit.
There is the assurance of food, if nothing else, but trust me, I feel like going on a pilgrimage every time I return from a wedding - not to forget the paradoxical situation of my stomach the next few days, that will not let me leave home. The course of 6 meals accommodated over a single hour is brutal for anybody, regardless of whether they deny it.
This guy, has his eating quirks - still no different from 12yr olds who are ignorant of propriety, skipping main course to accommodate more space for ice cream... which nets me even more lubber than I think.
Of note:
- New fat deposits. They will be useful WTSHTF.
- Dysmorphic body structures.
- People growing into their parents. But I hold negligible appreciation for any parents (mine included) in the first place. So this adaptation is of little use.
- The era of silence, when silence dominates congregations, is still faraway.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
First Shaadi of the Season
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