A was at the Indian stores one day when he saw posters for the Intense 2011 Atif Aslam concert. He was all fired up when he shared the news with me.
A: "Let's do it. We should go."
Me: "But what about Peanut? I can't leave her and go so far for so long...."
A: "Mom & Dad will take care of her. Once they leave we won't be able to do such things."
Me: "What if she cries for me? She always wants to feed to fall asleep."
A: "They will manage....don't worry too much."
Me: "She'll know when am not around....."
A: "Don't be silly....she won't know anything. Let's go and have fun."
So, the $35 pp tickets (read non-refundable) were purchased a week before and we were living in hope that Peanut would be a darling and not trouble her grandparents too much. On Friday the 29th of July, the day of the concert, I gave Peanut a bath, dressed her up in her sleeper, expressed BM, and put her to sleep. I then slathered moisturiser on self, slapped on some lipstick, rooted my closet for an outfit that would fit the new sized me and slipped out of the house with A. We were on a date! Yet, all I could talk about was Peanut. We reached the arena a good thirty minutes early. We are not related to Late Lateef, see. But Atif is. The doors were yet to open and gathered there were young, slim, cool looking dudes and dudettes from all over India. That would have been us six years before, I mumbled. No, we look much better, retorted A, who is still the same size or even a couple of inches leaner than he used to be. To kill time, we tried to guess which part of India each bunch was from. The flashy clothed, jazzy jewelery laden men were from the north! Delhi/UP, to be precise. The turbaned ones from Punjab and so on. Finally, at 8:30 pm the doors opened. We had good seats. The arena was more empty than full. The concert itself was mediocre. I had great expectations. The audio was so muffled that I could hardly hear any of the jokes the compere was trying to crack, if you could call them that. Bhumika absconded and we were forced to watch an Indian Idol perform. Then came Anushka Manchanda. She has a good voice but could hardly sing to tune. Finally, Atif. Much roaring and applause ensued. It was very disappointing to hear him experiment with his original scores. They sounded horrible. I missed carrying my ear buds. The $70 could have very well been spent on a wine tasting tour. Except that I can't drink wine. Or any alcoholic beverage for that matter.
We got back home at half past midnight and Peanut had just then woken up for a feed. I was glad to be back. I enjoyed the company; the concert, not so much. I then resolved not to leave Peanut and go to a concert again that is hardly rocking. I would rather rock her to sleep.
A: "Let's do it. We should go."
Me: "But what about Peanut? I can't leave her and go so far for so long...."
A: "Mom & Dad will take care of her. Once they leave we won't be able to do such things."
Me: "What if she cries for me? She always wants to feed to fall asleep."
A: "They will manage....don't worry too much."
Me: "She'll know when am not around....."
A: "Don't be silly....she won't know anything. Let's go and have fun."
So, the $35 pp tickets (read non-refundable) were purchased a week before and we were living in hope that Peanut would be a darling and not trouble her grandparents too much. On Friday the 29th of July, the day of the concert, I gave Peanut a bath, dressed her up in her sleeper, expressed BM, and put her to sleep. I then slathered moisturiser on self, slapped on some lipstick, rooted my closet for an outfit that would fit the new sized me and slipped out of the house with A. We were on a date! Yet, all I could talk about was Peanut. We reached the arena a good thirty minutes early. We are not related to Late Lateef, see. But Atif is. The doors were yet to open and gathered there were young, slim, cool looking dudes and dudettes from all over India. That would have been us six years before, I mumbled. No, we look much better, retorted A, who is still the same size or even a couple of inches leaner than he used to be. To kill time, we tried to guess which part of India each bunch was from. The flashy clothed, jazzy jewelery laden men were from the north! Delhi/UP, to be precise. The turbaned ones from Punjab and so on. Finally, at 8:30 pm the doors opened. We had good seats. The arena was more empty than full. The concert itself was mediocre. I had great expectations. The audio was so muffled that I could hardly hear any of the jokes the compere was trying to crack, if you could call them that. Bhumika absconded and we were forced to watch an Indian Idol perform. Then came Anushka Manchanda. She has a good voice but could hardly sing to tune. Finally, Atif. Much roaring and applause ensued. It was very disappointing to hear him experiment with his original scores. They sounded horrible. I missed carrying my ear buds. The $70 could have very well been spent on a wine tasting tour. Except that I can't drink wine. Or any alcoholic beverage for that matter.
We got back home at half past midnight and Peanut had just then woken up for a feed. I was glad to be back. I enjoyed the company; the concert, not so much. I then resolved not to leave Peanut and go to a concert again that is hardly rocking. I would rather rock her to sleep.
0 comments:
Post a Comment