bls31
November 25th, 2014, 11:31 AM
I had an invite, along with other Signaller residents of AWHO Township Greater Noida, for a contributory dinner at Vatika, ONE AHQ Signal Regiment.
At the venue, I pick up a tall glass of Pepsi with more ice in the glass that the beverage from the Bar situated next to the entrance with a bit of trepidation post a look at the prominently displayed sign -VIP BAR. Possibly, my blue fedora and the row of miniatures on the jacket qualified me as a VIP in the eyes of the men tending the Bar as I was served promptly and with due courtesy.
Possibly the Bar for the real and authentic VVIPs was some where and hidden from the preying eyes of the.
Hoi-polloi.
I was fortunate to soon notice Mrs Balan in the tight knot of guests, near by and also Balan, my course mate on visit from down South: to meet them was the main reason the I was attending the function.
Nursing the glass in hand I make a number of circuits of concentric circles through the crowed of Blue Patrols with a sprinkle of Lounge Suits trying to locate and say ‘He’ to some familiar faces, that I can locate, from yore.
With the liquid touching the bottom of the glass in my hand, I soon join the early birds in the dinner enclosure, leaving those with glasses full or half filled with more potent liquids of different genre, to there devices.
Having finished my frugal dinner, in the pleasant company of Balans, I come out of the enclosure and am attracted towards the source of the loud dance music blaring from the sound system.
Pulled by the thumping beats , I approach and stand transfixed next to the dance floor, a bit undecided, a bit confused and in a thoughtful mood, possibly reminiscing the past, when, I would have also hopped on to the dance floor, with alacrity, along with now, missing dance partner,
A bit lost, aimlessly watching, but not registering much, the activities on the floor covered choke block with frenzied couples, shoulder to shoulder, twisting, turning, shaking, feets thumping, arms pumping, in total abandon immersed in the beat of the music.
It is then that I am approached by a young smiling lady decked in OG Service dress with the Major’s Ashoka Pillars adoring her shoulders. She extends her two hands and I, in a reaction, hold them, with a “Sir can I have the pleasure of a dance with you. ” Taken aback, I am surprised and at a total loss as how to react to the request.
Possibly the last time I was on a dance floor was way back in 1982 at the ANNEXE of MCTE Mhow, with Jeet, my late wife, my permanent and only dance partner.
My wobbly legs, my inexperience of dancing, limited to that with my late wife all the years past, been asked for a dance by a lady for the first time in my life all this combined left me confused, speechless and at a loss for words. I do not recall as to how I managed to exit from the difficult situation, without hurting the pride of the kind lady, possibly by mumbling some thing incoherent. I do wish I had the courage to accede to the wish of the lady that I lacked in abundance.
On her part, was it an act of pity for a lonely looking oldie or was she genuinely interested in a dance with me, a father figure, or was she looking, in me, for some such close relative back at home is difficult to say.
I do hope that if by any chance the young Major comes across this write-up, she would understand my dilemma, considers it as my apology and pardon my indiscretion and rudeness and boorish behaviour.
At the venue, I pick up a tall glass of Pepsi with more ice in the glass that the beverage from the Bar situated next to the entrance with a bit of trepidation post a look at the prominently displayed sign -VIP BAR. Possibly, my blue fedora and the row of miniatures on the jacket qualified me as a VIP in the eyes of the men tending the Bar as I was served promptly and with due courtesy.
Possibly the Bar for the real and authentic VVIPs was some where and hidden from the preying eyes of the.
Hoi-polloi.
I was fortunate to soon notice Mrs Balan in the tight knot of guests, near by and also Balan, my course mate on visit from down South: to meet them was the main reason the I was attending the function.
Nursing the glass in hand I make a number of circuits of concentric circles through the crowed of Blue Patrols with a sprinkle of Lounge Suits trying to locate and say ‘He’ to some familiar faces, that I can locate, from yore.
With the liquid touching the bottom of the glass in my hand, I soon join the early birds in the dinner enclosure, leaving those with glasses full or half filled with more potent liquids of different genre, to there devices.
Having finished my frugal dinner, in the pleasant company of Balans, I come out of the enclosure and am attracted towards the source of the loud dance music blaring from the sound system.
Pulled by the thumping beats , I approach and stand transfixed next to the dance floor, a bit undecided, a bit confused and in a thoughtful mood, possibly reminiscing the past, when, I would have also hopped on to the dance floor, with alacrity, along with now, missing dance partner,
A bit lost, aimlessly watching, but not registering much, the activities on the floor covered choke block with frenzied couples, shoulder to shoulder, twisting, turning, shaking, feets thumping, arms pumping, in total abandon immersed in the beat of the music.
It is then that I am approached by a young smiling lady decked in OG Service dress with the Major’s Ashoka Pillars adoring her shoulders. She extends her two hands and I, in a reaction, hold them, with a “Sir can I have the pleasure of a dance with you. ” Taken aback, I am surprised and at a total loss as how to react to the request.
Possibly the last time I was on a dance floor was way back in 1982 at the ANNEXE of MCTE Mhow, with Jeet, my late wife, my permanent and only dance partner.
My wobbly legs, my inexperience of dancing, limited to that with my late wife all the years past, been asked for a dance by a lady for the first time in my life all this combined left me confused, speechless and at a loss for words. I do not recall as to how I managed to exit from the difficult situation, without hurting the pride of the kind lady, possibly by mumbling some thing incoherent. I do wish I had the courage to accede to the wish of the lady that I lacked in abundance.
On her part, was it an act of pity for a lonely looking oldie or was she genuinely interested in a dance with me, a father figure, or was she looking, in me, for some such close relative back at home is difficult to say.
I do hope that if by any chance the young Major comes across this write-up, she would understand my dilemma, considers it as my apology and pardon my indiscretion and rudeness and boorish behaviour.