It seems bangalore is hip and happening again with curfews for pubs/clubs being sneakily extended (without any official sanctions of course) and clubs becoming little braver about letting people dance in their establishments.
(Earlier they would rush up to you and ask you to please sit down lest the mean old uncle from excise department should make his routine surprise visit.)
So off I went to claim my share of the party bounties being distributed......Whatay bounty it was... So we went to the club at a fashionably (though not intentionally) late hour of 10:30 and found it packed! The crowd at the door made me take a deep breath before I jumped in and waded my way across. Once we were in we seemed to be on some kind of unofficial railway track with trains of people at the back wanting to go front and ones in front wanted to go back. As people kept shoving and pushing past me to go front, I wondered where the people thought they were going. Clearly some much evolved mysterious communication/synchronization was taking place that ensured people could just keep pouring in and in and in while the dimensions of the rooms remained the same. Mysterious and great powers at work.
But doesn't this happen to all of you? It does to me. Anytime I am in a club I am always 'in the way' no matter where I place myself.
We all settled into our allotted two square centimeters and proceeded to shake our booty....all of us adopting our trade mark stances... first Apps -the boxer: feet apart, clenched fists held close to the body as if to defensively ward of blows and moving shoulders rhythmically front and back, second Tic Tic -Stevie wonder cum karate kid: palms straight, held in karate style in front of face, with unrelated head bobs ala stevie wonder/other blind musician, the third person -Small is a little perturbed that space is too small even for her but quickly recovers to her standard beggar person stand: hand upturned and swaying in front of face.
As we hipped and hopped, trying desperately to be the new level of cool in the club, in walked three cricketers upping the cool quotient to an unimaginable level. Camera phones were whipped out. DJ decided to change the genre of the music (they switched to punjabi-one of the cricketers was harbajan) I desperately failed in being 'with it' by informing people who told me Kaif was there, that it was a fosters promotion not kingfisher. ( Kaif -K F getit ? oh nevermind ).
Then I finally managed to absorb that green shirt was Kaif red one-zaheer , turban -harbhajan (tho that I knew already) and with that information processed proceeded to jiggy with the cricketers. (so what if they dint know it?)
We are the only place in bangalore that can open later that 11:30!!! whooped the DJ enthusiastically. Groan I want to be in bed at 11:30 I thought mournfully concerned for my creaking bones and aging muscles. This curfew makes you soft and when they sneakily spring these extended times, it catches you unawares and unprepared. A drooping Small and and collapsing me finally managed to drag an impervious Apps and heroically enthusiastic Tic Tic out of the place and proceeded to Empire where Tic Tic made us climb 4 maybe 5, maybe 6 maybe a zillion floors to the roof of empire to fill our starving selves. Small nearly collapsed and got eaten in the long journey to the roof. Unfortunately she made it and we ate grilled chicken instead.
Full and danced out we returned tired and sweaty and cigarette smelly, crashing into our beds happily albeit soberly.
If you wanna run cool .......you gotta run on heavy heavy fuel.....
(Earlier they would rush up to you and ask you to please sit down lest the mean old uncle from excise department should make his routine surprise visit.)
So off I went to claim my share of the party bounties being distributed......Whatay bounty it was... So we went to the club at a fashionably (though not intentionally) late hour of 10:30 and found it packed! The crowd at the door made me take a deep breath before I jumped in and waded my way across. Once we were in we seemed to be on some kind of unofficial railway track with trains of people at the back wanting to go front and ones in front wanted to go back. As people kept shoving and pushing past me to go front, I wondered where the people thought they were going. Clearly some much evolved mysterious communication/synchronization was taking place that ensured people could just keep pouring in and in and in while the dimensions of the rooms remained the same. Mysterious and great powers at work.
But doesn't this happen to all of you? It does to me. Anytime I am in a club I am always 'in the way' no matter where I place myself.
We all settled into our allotted two square centimeters and proceeded to shake our booty....all of us adopting our trade mark stances... first Apps -the boxer: feet apart, clenched fists held close to the body as if to defensively ward of blows and moving shoulders rhythmically front and back, second Tic Tic -Stevie wonder cum karate kid: palms straight, held in karate style in front of face, with unrelated head bobs ala stevie wonder/other blind musician, the third person -Small is a little perturbed that space is too small even for her but quickly recovers to her standard beggar person stand: hand upturned and swaying in front of face.
As we hipped and hopped, trying desperately to be the new level of cool in the club, in walked three cricketers upping the cool quotient to an unimaginable level. Camera phones were whipped out. DJ decided to change the genre of the music (they switched to punjabi-one of the cricketers was harbajan) I desperately failed in being 'with it' by informing people who told me Kaif was there, that it was a fosters promotion not kingfisher. ( Kaif -K F getit ? oh nevermind ).
Then I finally managed to absorb that green shirt was Kaif red one-zaheer , turban -harbhajan (tho that I knew already) and with that information processed proceeded to jiggy with the cricketers. (so what if they dint know it?)
We are the only place in bangalore that can open later that 11:30!!! whooped the DJ enthusiastically. Groan I want to be in bed at 11:30 I thought mournfully concerned for my creaking bones and aging muscles. This curfew makes you soft and when they sneakily spring these extended times, it catches you unawares and unprepared. A drooping Small and and collapsing me finally managed to drag an impervious Apps and heroically enthusiastic Tic Tic out of the place and proceeded to Empire where Tic Tic made us climb 4 maybe 5, maybe 6 maybe a zillion floors to the roof of empire to fill our starving selves. Small nearly collapsed and got eaten in the long journey to the roof. Unfortunately she made it and we ate grilled chicken instead.
Full and danced out we returned tired and sweaty and cigarette smelly, crashing into our beds happily albeit soberly.
If you wanna run cool .......you gotta run on heavy heavy fuel.....
Big Brother was watching... He read your blog, and said 'No more dancing'!
ReplyDelete