How a white Chinkara rescued me?

This Chinkara was white and cool. It came from Australia. And it came to my rescue on a miserable evening. Before you think I've lost it, Chinkara is an Australian wine that was served at a wedding cocktail party that I went to at the plush Oberoi Hotel in Delhi. This is how it all started.

This was P's closest friend's sister's wedding and things hadn't been going to well between us lately (same people I mentioned in this and this too). Anyway, I had decided to look stunning and be the life of the party (all those who really know me know this has to be a joke or a feat as hard to achieve as climbing the Everest). Ok so maybe not be the life of the party but at-least look stunning. I was really looking forward to wearing this thirty year old saree from my mum's trousseau. Its this amazing deep blue with a bold silver border. I got the saree refurbished and matched silver peep-toe sandals with a silver clutch.. the works.. I even got it steam-ironed, didn't want to take chances with the dhobi.

So after a hectic day, made a huge effort to look fresh (Ice cubes on the eyes et all). I started getting dressed and as soon as i pinned my palla, I noticed the big tear in the saree border right in the front. My heart sank and I was so furious at the dry cleaner. If only his store hadn't shut by then, he would have had it. P tried hard to pacify me. And finally, not having the time to change (or another ironed saree.. I should be better prepared), i pinned it up strategically, took a deep breath and left.

As soon as I entered the party, I spotted N who's P's friends wife and one of my ex- best friends. This is the one I can't make up my mind about. Is she innocent or is she the bitch who creates all the trouble in the group? Now N always made me believe that they hardly met with the others in the group. Here I see her moving around with so many of the friends & family of the other friends that I realize she's been lying all this while. I suddenly felt so completely miserable at being left out that I just wanted to walk out then. The saree accident was just adding to my woes. The whole story is too complex to explain now but I always felt that I got a raw deal from P's friends and N was very easily accepted.

Anyway, so I felt terrible and it was so clearly written all over my face. I am one of those stupid, immature, transparent people who find it very hard to suppress what they feel and can't rest till its all out of the system. Thankfully the performances from the bride's and the groom's family started right then. It is the silliest thing that I've ever seen. A rub off from Bollywood. But it helped, I didn't have to talk to anyone for a good thirty minutes and that time was enough to compose myself and pull my act together.

The tamasha (trust me, no better word for this) ended and i spotted a waiter with tall, cool glasses of white wine. I picked one up and gradually relaxed. Another glass and I was ready to take on N and the world. I confidently mingled arm in arm with P. I told it as it was. Joked with N about the games she's playing with me. I noticed her face drop and she got tongue tied. No one expects me to talk back and they were quite shocked I think. Even P was taken aback. But I was never rude, just honest.

I hate to think that I need a glass of wine to get through my life. Makes me feel like an alcoholic but it is true. Lesson to be learnt is that I should be more confident about being myself and not need any stimulants for that. Why should drunk me have more fun than the sober me?