Diamond Hearts (Volume I & II)

26. Dancing

Kuhoo :

Ever since my childhood, I had always been fascinated with light. Brightness separated day and night, Gods and demons, angels and ghosts, wizards and witches, all those supernatural things dadu would tell us about. Gargi, Haripriya, Ashwadh, Kaustubh, all of us would surround his makeshift mattress at night being adamant for him to narrate those tales.

As I reached my teens, I realized my fascination was more about the philosophical nature of light than its physical existence. Because in real life, I hated lights, hated the way they made my head feel. It was ironical how the same light I once loved so much had been a trigger for my migraine.

The sangeet hall was magnificent to say the least. Humungous crystal chandeliers, a grand stage with focus lights, LED screens running Rahul and Riya's pre-weeding album, women dressed in sparkling designer outfits, men donning equally impeccable sherwanis, a small group of artists dressed in traditional Punjabi clothes drumming dhols, drone cameras in the air clicking pictures, and music bursting through loud speakers. Did I forget to mention too much of loud music also triggered my migraine? I wasn't going to let this anticipatory anxiety ruin the happiness that I felt being in the lively atmosphere though.

Mahil had gone to check a few arrangements as his assistant called him when I was in a conversation with Rahul and Riya. I greeted his family and congratulated them. His mother was sweet enough to express her happiness that someone from his college was able to attend the function.

As they moved ahead to attend other guests, I was left alone. That was when I realized, I didn't know much people here, other than Mahil and the man of the night himself.

Few kids were dancing on a bollywood song, taking a seat on one of the white satin laden chairs; I admired the arrangements silently, not before clicking a few photographs and sending them to Eli, denying politely when one of the servants offered me drinks. I had no intentions of touching alcohol for the third time in my life and then going on an unforgiving guilt trip.

Mahil smiled as he came back and took a seat beside me. Another Bollywood number followed after the kids, it was Rahul's parents and other elders of their generation. His grandparents joined them in the last part with shaking their legs on the dance floor. They seemed like one big happy family and I immediately missed my one. The man sitting by my side was once again called by his assistant and he had to leave.

Soon it was time for Rahul and Riya's dance. Anybody could tell that they were so much in love. I chuckled as my mind went back to our unsuccessful attempts to set him up with a few girls in our college. Finally, this man had found love.

When all the performances got over, couples were still slow dancing on the stage. I couldn't see any familiar face among them, so I looked around and my eyes fell on Mahil. He was in some sort of discussion with Rahul. Frey and a girl in her late teens were standing alongside. I had seen him talking to her once when he moved to the neighborhood. She chuckled when his assistant said something, Rahul laughed as well making Mahil roll the eyes. What were they talking about?

A waiter offered drinks and the group took them one by one. Mahil threw a calculative look at the glasses. That was when Bhalla circled an arm over his shoulders and whispered something in his ears. They both laughed. When did these two become this close?

He dismissed waiter shaking his head. Others exchanged glances before laughing again making him scowl. I was about to get up and move to their side when another arm tugged at Mahil's hand. From the look on his face, I could tell his insides jumped at the unexpected touch.

It was Kiya, clad in an off-white flowy lehenga. I loved her heart shaped sequin blouse; its upper ends were made of fine net that covered her collarbones and shoulders. The backless design made her look no less than a diva.