Browsing through video clip of songs in my inventory, I came across an old favorite – ‘waiting for tonight’ by JLo. For those of you who don’t know, it was the song released especially during the turn of the millennium and still looks fresh and foot tappable. As I saw JLo gyrating among the laser strobes in lush jungles, my thoughts inadvertently crossed over to good ‘ol days. What was ‘I’ doing during this historic event? Where was I…….? And I remembered…..
Some quick mathematics (which is never my strong suite, so slash out quick) helped me remember that I was in class ninth, going on tenth, hardly 15, and was trying to grow a wimpy moustache! Dad was still the provider, the authority figure and we were secure in our knowledge that come what may, he’d handle it. In other words, we were carefree.
I was quite new in town (a year old, to be exact) and like it had always happened before, already working on the ritual of making new friends. Girls were a species not yet discovered (at least by me).
So, big hoopla, new millennium, a once in a lifetime happening, Jlo’s new song coming up, a quickly catching habit of devouring new novels and Hollywood movies, and world just opening up. What to do? Such moments come once in a thousand years, surely I was not gonna waste it sitting in my room watching sad old performers on Doordarshan while people all over world were going Gaga ! What would I tell my future generations? ... No way….
It was time to do something radical, but I was severely limited in my options. In our sleepy little town called Vidisha, there was no place for a decent party, let alone a joint for jamming. I decided that we best manage from what resources we have, rather than crib about it, and an Idea was born.
First task – deciding the venue. This was a no-brainer. Where else would I go? It was to be my terrace. We needed mom’s refreshments (caterer) , sound system(own) , and most importantly, a budget-free place(our budget wouldn’t even get us a small room anywhere, let alone a hall… pocket money used to be meant for very small pocket, you know). The tent was courtesy dad’s office, decorations were paper cuttings and balloons , and with the music system and mom’s catering service, we were in business!
Looking back now, the whole crazy idea – Dad’s office’s worn-up tent, mom’s homemade snacks ,and the wacky sound system from downstairs – it looked like a premise never meant to go off, but how it did!! My younger brother gate crashed the party, (c’mon, teenagers also have some standards, including kids in your party was below them!), and after stern orders from the catering management, we were forced to let them in. It dawned on us later on that it was not so bad, little buggers added zing to the party, more the merrier.
What followed was a madcap caper, including out of tune karaoke singers, monkey-style dancing, yelling and loud din, all out of an old worn out tent in a sleepy little colony in a backwater town. In our own small way, we connected with the world, carried our first event management ourselves, and gave our cranky old neighbors a headache, all at once!
And not a nickel spent on bitchy dates or a brawl with the bouncer at an overpriced joint!!!