Pay back time, Mr. Panchhi.

Mr. Daler Mehndi, or Daler Pahji ; performed yesterday in our region and I, like many other so called ‘sponsors’ reached the venue (a large dusty city maidan) much before Pahji decided to make his first appearance.

The towns we live in worships celebrities (especially the musical kind) and hence the entire town (or at least the ones that got passes) converged on the ground waiting for their star performer to ‘bolo tara ra ra’ etc.

AudioWagon had sponsored studio time and recorded the music for the event so we got front seats, reserved parking, half a glass of ‘Limca’, constant stares from the people four rows behind us sitting on plastic chairs while we got a very uncomfortable ‘shaadi wala’ sofa to sit on, personal introductions to the MC who had come especially from Delhi and wore a short length evening gown, a chance to shake Daler’s hand and park right next to the venue.. I loved every moment of what I saw that evening including the brawls at the gate and the event management staff constantly moving people out of the VVIP seats. The local politician of course; came with 15-20 side heroes, who all occupied the front two rows and hand a mobile phone each glued to their ears while Pahji played on.

The best part of the evening however was when we decided to leave early and found that my Scorpio (car) had broken the ‘carrying capacity’ limit. At least, 15 boys/men of various ages and at various levels of intoxication were dancing on the bonnet and roof of the car. The objective as I understood was to find a high vantage point so they could see the show without really entering the venue.

The first few minutes after getting all of them off the poor car; were spent in abusing the generation, the town, the schools, India, parents in general and anybody who even remotely had anything to do with the show, including my partner who insisted that I join the evening. There was also a sense of déjà vu.

I had; as a kid , on seeing my neighbor’s new car and out of a sheer sense of envy, taken a stone and etched the latest pop song’s lyrics on the bonnet of the shiny new car. I know exactly how he would have felt some 30 years ago and whilst I suddenly feel apologetic about a deed committed many decades ago, I guess my karma has caught up with me.

So Mr. Suri, where ever you are, I confess for being the guy who wrote on your bonnet and believe me, I’ve just paid back.

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