I'm back. And I came in flying. On Cupid's wings. Sounds too saccharine to you? Wait till you see the love birds fluttering around your neighbourhood today. It's really sweet. The smothering-your-throat kind of sweet. Especially because, if you're in your thirties like me, you really can't manage to enjoy that being-silly kind of love on the roads any more. Or can you? I wonder.
We went to a pre-Valentine's Day gig last night. It was my favourite singer Mika , doling out all the hot numbers that I totally love to gyrate to. But guess what the odds were? I was heavily drugged, had been advised to take it easy for some time as far as physical activity is concerned, no alcohol-not even a shandy and in a city like Lucknow, where you lose your right to be fancy-free the day you get married.By God, I'd been waiting for this evening, since last month. And I'd even bought myself a new outfit! We were made to sit in the first row when Mika came on stage. I so wanted to scream like I was fifteen again. But such courage is hard to muster without a shot of vodka. So, the first number got rolling. People are generally too sophisticated in this city to let their hair down very easily. By the time the second song came through, the dance floor in front of us was howling for attention. My husband, who is my all-time favourite dance-partner, had forbidden me to exhaust myself, owing to the food-less days behind me.
What the hell! What's a party without music and what's music without a shake? Who needs a validating reason to be happy and celebrate? And I hadn't waited all these days to sit through such a pulsating performance. I got up, pulled my daughter along ( who was anyway waiting for the slightest push) and took over the dance floor. Hubby couldn't resist for too long. Got a thumbs-up from Mika and in a few minutes, the dance floor felt it was worthwhile to exist on the planet. We had the Lucknow crowd grooving!!!
Moreover, my baby was invited on stage with a bunch of other children to dance with the singer. Oh, the joy and confidence on her face.The highlight of the evening was the team from the local T.V. channel coming up to us on the dance floor and asking for a byte on the evening (even though I couldn't understand initially when the interviewer said in murdered English,"I want your bite!" Glad my bicep-flexing valentine couldn't hear it over the din). It was funny how each question was essentially tagged with "So, what are you feeling?" It was a perfectly entertaining evening!
Now, before you go ahead and begin to think, I'm on my show-off spree again; I'll make the point. And the stubby point is that when we see people younger than us having a good time, we either judge them for being whatever they are, or feel regretful that we can't be them anymore. Who does that help? Who set the age-limit for unpretentious, child-like joy? We keep building walls inside us and consequently, as we start to confine others within those walls, inadvertently, we begin to confine ourselves the most. Even though, I'm not a proponent of the 'I don't give a damn about anyone' attitude; I do believe that it is possible to be sensitive to the expectations of those around you and still have fun. Loads of it!
Therefore, each time you see those droopy-eyed love birds flutter by, don't feel envious. Go hug your mate and whisper the sillies in their ear : ) (and try not to bite their ear off while you do so. It doesn't qualify as a love-bite). Do something crazy. Love is work-in-progress.
Happy Valentine's Day to all.
Oh! by the way, I told hubby not to bring me any kind of cut flowers today. I prefer potted plants, if at all. I'd rather have the gesture of love, blooming happily and thriving in my garden than withering away in the vase. Just a thought to share.