Much favored Brouhaha

I have been offered many things in my life- self tattoo makers, door nobs, Cheek-In-Bum Pornotopia, even a tarantula but i accept them none.Some for redundancy(guess what?) and some for seer dislike.But one offer i await and do accept with a smile on my cheeks and droll from my lips.It is the free food protocol observed through out the world for something or other-mostly absurd but thoroughly savored and even criticized curriculums-the invitation to the taste buds,courtesy marriage.

This norm is a 'ne plus ultra' arrangement in the society which knows no bounds.The posh and the pinched both deliver and boy,do they get the audience.But who am i to propose such cynical conundrums of the the Wise.So i settle for the role where you usually play the part of a pleasantly surprised invitee and your reflex acts on the RSVP with a volley of thanks and a shameless inquiry for the extended menu.

So this teacher of mine who,a respected Sanskrit college maestro(no kidding!),happens to get married out of curiosity.You see,marriages in India are like swine flu,highly contagious with no chance to escape(masks would help in both the situations though!).Anywho, i somehow made my way to his guest list for the intended frolic which included the famed Baraati and a grandeur reception.I painfully managed to proxy his baraat which is a disgrace to my personal repute.But i sniffed and purred when i attended the reception in one of those famous 'developing pseudo-urban country sides' you often hear from your elected guardian angels every now and then.The spicy pungent air was the reason for my felis transmogrification.I felt 'The Hunger Pang' which accounts for most of the mishaps made by decent men during mouth-to-seat proportion insurgency.The situation is funny though.Every present bhukkad fakes lucid conversation while fidgeting for the instant vacancies.It's gullible,isn't it?So as it seems, i too made it through this social pact by communicating nonchalantly and reconnoitering, simultaneously.The size of the happy hour seems to increase but the Cap' in me spotted the right boards,scoured the sea of people and ahoy,i anchored(the whole place cheered and two pretties fainted with grace,Bravo!!).Then came the nourishments and it felt like an Oprah moment(i cried and hugged).The food were nothing but synonyms of delicacies.There was this pushto maccho torkari followed by maccho manchurian (deep fried), maccho alloo ghonto  and the fabled masala maccho torkari.The side veggies were paneer, potolo dahi and spicy mixed-greens. There was a fruit-N-nut     sweet gel to lather the tongue from the spicy ingestas.Every mouthfuls were different hues of colors.If that didn't tightened your belt and widened your waist,the desserts ensured the same.The warm paayas was ushered with rossogolla in it followed by cold frozen yoghurt.People didn't mind the loud burps and thumps for the bliss of the food were upon them.The whole environ correlated with that of a rehab center.The regular & deluxe paans were the protagonists of the epilogue.

This amazes me how people--who generally are viewed as self-complacent and reserved in this age of pace--tag other people in their happiness.This may be one of those primal instincts which also results in jealousy followed by grievous mistakes e.i. war for instance.
But food still cements those crucial bonds which are much favored and so much needed.