There have been many a times when people dance on the floor, some people are just watching them. Some with confusion, some with envy, some with pride and some with hope.Some trying to get into the groove and some just trying to find a space to get in .Many of us who have been to great Indian wedding fiesta, must be a great dancer but not me .
Last week I had been to my cousin’s wedding ,not even a cousin ,but just one of those people who you just know .A beautiful Indian wedding but just with one exception ,the bride was 3 inches taller .That is not supposed to happen in India ,the groom is supposed to be older and taller .
Never mind after usual ceremonies everybody was supposed to get on the floor ,a shake the booty .After lot of resilience I was also forced to dance .
After the first embarrassing move I made I saw a face flash in the dark .A pale face smiling like a god .
When noticed carefully he was my Grandfather ,my mother’s father .After watching him in that beautiful night many old memories came rushing back.
How he used take me on his back ,hold my fingers and show me the old and narrow streets of shimla ,his drinking tea at the shabbiest tea corners .Angry many times but not ever uttering a word of insolence to anyone, as honest as the priest .(cont.)
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