Dandiya night in the society and Hrit Naisha were bubbling with enthusiasm. Time again for chaniya cholis, dandiyas, dressing up and dancing.. recipe for a great night.
For once I was relaxed and just as excited. To begin with their clothes were taken care of. A good friend sent awesome dresses straight from Gujju land. Thanks Apoorva. That rid me of the bother of putting together their wardrobe. What’s better he also got them super cute accessories and dandiyas. I was let off scott free. Yayyy!
|He actually wanted to take the gada down... managed to dissuade him.|
|How she loves dressing up|
|With the spoils of the evening|
Reason number 2 for rejoicing.. I’d learnt a few dance moves.. few meaning about two.. but that was enough. All the past years I was getting by without any, this was a windfall. We were set. Then someone asked “What are you wearing?” Eeeeeks? Hadn’t thought about that at all. But no worries….just rustled up some junk jewellery and I was done.
Well we all dressed up for D day. Unlike Bombay
where we got to groove all nine days here in Pune we just had one day and we were ready to make the most of it.
The programme was scheduled to start at 7pm with an hour of Tambola, then dancing. Tambola on a dandiya night??? Incongruous to say the least, from a Mumbaikar’s point of view. But since I’m not really one.. anything goes.
By the way tambola was never my favourite sport. Now with kids specially, I don’t see myself concentrating on middle line and full house with two restless kids laced with weapons (read dandiyas) creating havoc all around. So we decided to go down by 8.
When we did go down we were met with pin drop silence. About a hundred people sat sedately pens/pencils poised crossing out numbers as a ‘DJ’ did the announcing. Quite undandiya like, I thought.
I was at a loss how to rein in the kids. Hrit was cartwheeling with sheer energy and excitement while Naisha was flitting around holding up her lehenga in the most ladylike fashion.
They charged right into the tambola scene along with a friend creating such a ruckus that they made the veterans miss a number or two. Of course they were shooed away and had to play in the lobby while we waited. When the music finally started they were the first ones on the dance floor.
Now no event can be complete without at least one of the twins doing something outrageous. The prize for the best dressed boy went to their best friend. Hrit still doesn’t understand the concept of one person getting a prize and the others being left out. He asked me ‘Where’s my gift?’ I shushed him quickly. When he realized I was not going to help he decided to take matters in his own hands. He marched up to the podium, saw a gift kept there and walked away with it! Of course I made him take it back. Twice. Then the organizers gave up. “Let him have it.. anyway this was also for the best dressed boy,” they said. And I wished the earth would swallow me up. Hrit of course was thrilled.
After about an hour the garba music gave way to good old Bollywood. Punjab completely took over Gujarat
. The kids sure had a ball.
Then at dinner time Hrit spilled gulab jamun syrup on him and I caught him just in time trying to pour a glassful of water inside his dhoti to ‘clean up the mess.’
That was it. It's bye bye garba night till next year. Hope we’re back in Mumbai then.