The visit

Sometimes u crave for simpler times – when an invitation to dinner was greeted with a ‘sure, we’re free’ and the maximum damage caused was that u landed up at work the next morning, bleary eyed, and maybe nursing a hangover.

In 2006, this unassuming, uncomplicated offer to have u over for an evening had assumed gigantic & unpleasant proportions. Those unpretentious five words – ‘are u free for dinner’ sent chills up my spine. Once accepted, I braced myself like an army recruit, readying for the obstacle race.

First hurdle - the angry young man of the house who demanded to know whether liquor would be served. How the hell would I know?? He agitatedly recalled the previous party where the hosts had the temerity to respect a religious day by abstaining from alcohol. Doesn’t society realize, the respectable father protested, that a growing boy needs his drink!! Finally I resorted to a woman’s finest weapon – emotional blackmail & he sulkily gave in.

One down and one more to go. Our delightful daughter was a tougher nut to crack. So I was grilled with ‘twenty questions’ -

· Why do I have to go with u guys?
· Can’t I stay back and order pizza?
· Do they have kids?
· I hope they’re not nerds like the previous lot
· Will they ask if I speak Tamil & snigger that I don’t?

The moment was ripe to brandish the, ‘because I’m your mother and I say so”, trump card referred to earlier. Mission accomplished here too!

I had issues too – I would miss “desperate housewives” and was inconsolable. Also I had nothing to wear, but where that dilemma was concerned, I am pleased to report consistency from a very young age!

That’s how this terrible trio found themselves at a dinner party. There are times in life when u get lucky, & hit pay dirt, just because you happen to be at the right place at the right time. I shudder to think that I so easily could have crumbled under pressure from my family, and missed this mother-of-all visits. Someone up there is definitely watching over me indulgently!

Ashok’s worst fears were confirmed when he was greeted with ‘apple or orange juice’ – what he didn’t realize was that the events to follow would put him on a high which alcohol couldn’t match!!

Shiksha was whisked away inside and that’s the way it should be – all of us deserve well earned breaks from each other and normally, till dinner is served, the kids & adults remain disconnected. Please note the operative word being ‘normally’!!!

We had barely warmed our seats when we were briskly commanded on our feet. Single file, we embarked on a tour of all the trophies earned by every member of this over achieving family. I noticed that a petulant Shiksha was forced to join the line. This was not a tour for the weak or faint hearted. Every cup/medal/trophy had to be duly examined, exclaimed over & the master of the house bleated on about the history behind it. After the third shelf, we ran out of steam – wondered if we signed on stamp paper swearing our admiration & respect for these gleaming works of art, we could go back to our much maligned fruit juices!!

No such luck – if we committed the crime of going past one of those prizes with a simple nod, there was panic in the ranks! We would halt, have the narration repeated, in a censorious tone till we accepted defeat and gushed over the neglected plaque!! Soon we were short on adjectives and approving sounds, but necessity and fear - the mothers of invention!!

Excursion over, we gratefully sank into our couches & viewed the fruit juice with new found appreciation! Before we could tiredly raise the glasses to our parched lips, our seating was briskly re-arranged … apparently we had to now watch a video film of a show organized by the hostess. You live and learn – it dawned on me that in this house, guests have to contribute too. I desperately needed a thesaurus, because my scant vocabulary where words of praise go, had been stretched beyond capacity.

This was a family you couldn’t mess with – we were audience to a well oiled routine – each member had his role to play – the daughters took care of the lighting, the son controlled the remote, the mom took over as the compere, and the dad watched us like a hawk. Anytime we dared to so much as glance away away, he pounced on us, the beta would rewind, the dialogues were repeated & we burnt under the combined glares of the rest of the tortured party who had to pay the price for your folly by watching something they didn’t want to – AGAIN!!

By now we were reduced to a zombie like state – our spirits broken, we were putty in the hands of our resolute hosts. Trapped in the land of no return, we resigned ourselves to whatever fate had in store for us!!

With no will to question, we feebly trooped downstairs. The few souls who still had a glimmer of optimism lingering in them, hoped for dinner. But all that happened was a change of scene for the next act ….

The lights were dimmed and we sat back wearily & by now, warily!! There was a moment of welcome silence, but it was merely a lull before the storm …. One moment the young lad of the house posed with his back to us and ….. with no warning, he leapt towards us & broke into the most vigorous dance I have ever seen, with tamil rap music thundering in our ears. The pyaari behnaas were the dj’s, while the fond parents assumed new avatars – the cheerleader squad!! All that was missing were the pom poms. Mortifying memory, but we succumbed to the moment and lustily hooted too!!

As they say, if u cant lick ‘em, join ‘em!! Like Ar Rehman’s music, this kooky khaandaan began to grow on us!

Some hapless guest had the audacity to get up and visit the loo – and paid for her sins. The dance was repeated!!

Then the pretty young girl of the house started belting out a combination of Hindi and Tamil songs. This time we listened like our lives depended on it … by now we had wisened up to the fact that any small distraction would mean big time payment – in the form of an encore!!

While the nightingale was singing, we noticed the parents running helter skelter. Apparently the music system upstairs was being connected to the speakers down for best effect for the next act – Indian classical dance. This time I was honored- the hostess cheerfully announced that someone like me may not have enjoyed rap and modern music, so something ‘desi’ for the simpleton from back home!! I indignantly wanted to protest – just because I look & dress like an ‘amma’, don’t dismiss me as one (we’ll talk about how people slot u according to your looks another time because there’s lots there folks!)!!!

U know those non-stop party remix albums?? This was like that – entertainment unlimited!!! Eventually diner was served, happy to report, accompanied by singing and dancing. Were too pooped to check if those kids ever stopped to eat or drink??!! This was survival of the fittest and we wolfed down our dinner gratefully & stumbled back home!!

Outcomes of this very enlightening evening – plenty my friends ….

· Never judge a book by it’s cover – this unassuming family had revealed hidden dimensions
· Realization that we sucked as hosts
· We were spoilt & every gathering we went to, paled in comparison!