And the New Year arrived – for some with all the pomp and hype, and for some with a whimper. Spending the New Year’s Eve away from home I thought to make the most of it and indulge in all the hoopla that I have missed out on all these years. Plans were discussed, schedules were set, and arrangements were made. The result was – a small group of close friends, a bonfire on the terrace and a moderate amount of booze. The perfect combination for a perfect beginning to a (as I already know) less than perfect year that is to unfold. But there is a reason why I am known to be jinxed. Even while the plan was on and rolling, the clock struck 12 and all we had were two friends waiting for the rest to come, more importantly for the “parcel” to come, and all the while doing what? – knitting!
Two hours later – the “parcel” never came neither did the carriers of the parcel. The close knit friends finally made it after being stranded on the road on 31st night – but an hour late. Phone calls to family failed as the network got jammed and then later it became too late to call home – unless I wanted to start off a false alarm. Two glasses of homemade wine is all we had between six of us – not to mention that my share was robbed off by bullying juniors.
The bonfire happened and so did the waking up of the ‘good Brahmin’ neighbourhood while we scavenged for fuel for the bonfire. We did of course have five months of old newspaper and two cans of deo. An hour and half into ‘having’ the bonfire - the unanimous conclusion was none of us will ever survive in a jungle. We may call the city a jungle but the very first day the year reminded us once again that we are very a part of that ‘jungle’.
Happy New Year, folks!