21-01-2023, 08:26 PM
It was about 9 pm on a Saturday night when Yashodhara and I drove up to a large house on the outskirts of the Midwestern town we lived in. The house was decked up in lights with several Chinese lanterns hanging from it. There was a big group of children to one side of the house, setting off fireworks. Watching them, sat half a dozen or so Indian women decked up in expensive looking silk saris and jewelry. I parked the car in between two others, and Yashodhara and I, taking a couple of plastic bags, walked to the front door.
"Happy Diwali!" a middle aged lady who was standing by the door greeted us.
"Happy Diwali to you too!" Yashodhara and I replied. And immediately, the air was filled with sounds of bursting fire crackers. When the sound subsided half a minute later, the lady said.
"Feels just like Diwali back home in India doesn't it, with this cacophony?"
"Sure does! I am surprised the neighbors haven't complained to the cops." I said.
"I was wondering about it too, but apparently, everyone who lives within an earshot is Indian and is at the party already."
"Is this your house?"
"No. In fact I am not even sure whose house this is. Anyway, go on in and mingle. It's a very informal party. I have to stay here and keep an eye on my kids."
We walked into the house, and the party seemed to be in full flow. There were groups of people standing around, drinking and eating and talking. The living area was pretty large, and there must have been 50 or so people over there.
"I wonder who the hosts are." Yashodhara said, surveying the scene around us.
"Do you know anyone?" I asked.
"That couple over there. I think I have seen them in the Indian grocery store. But I don't even know their names. How about you?"
"I see a guy I know from work. But not too well."
"Anyway, let's go to the kitchen and keep this stuff somewhere." Yashodhara said raising the plastic bags in her hand.
We headed to the kitchen where a handful of people were helping themselves to some food from the spread laid out. The flyer said this was a pot luck and BYOB party. We had brought a box of Bengali sweets and a dozen samosas, which Yashodhara placed on the table. A man smiled at us and immediately helped himself to a samosa. I headed to what seemed like a makeshift bar next to the fridge and deposited the bottles of wine and vodka that we had brought. I helped myself to a couple of plastic cups in the corner, poured two drinks of vodka and sprite, and handed one to my lovely wife Yashodhara. Soon a couple approached us and started making small talk.
Coming to this party had been Yashodhara's idea. During our last trip to the Indian grocery store, she spotted a flyer announcing this Diwali party. The flyer promised a fun party with lots of fireworks, lights, festivities, and so on. Yashodhara and I weren't really too tuned into the Indian community in town. We never went for these parties, and most of our friends were non-Indian. And if you know a bit about our past, starting with Yashodhara's dalliances with Ramon and other guys, our lifestyle hadn't exactly been appropriate to fit into the largely conservative Indian community. But it had now been almost 3 years that we were in the US. And we hadn't been able to make a single trip back home to India. So both Yashodhara and I occasionally felt longing for India and Indian people, never more so at Diwali. So when Yashodhara suggested we go to this party around Diwali, maybe met some new people, I agreed.
The party also gave us the rare chance to wear Indian clothes. I was dressed in a loose-fitting shervani myself. Yashodhara looked absolutely gorgeous in a green salwar kameez that brought out her lovely gray eyes. The kameez (which is a long top that comes down to the knees) fit her torso perfectly, snugly highlighting her boobs which had gone from C to a D cup in recent years. The neckline was also tantalizingly cut to give a glimpse of her cleavage where her mangalsutra was nestled. The dupatta (which is a long scarf worn around the neck) wrapped around her neck, along with the neckline of her kameez, formed an enticing milky white triangle of the skin around her cleavage. It had taken me a great deal of self-control to not make out with her right there. But this was an Indian party, and no one else seemed to be engaged in any PDA.
So like I said, we were talking to a couple. Soon the conversation split into Yashodhara and the wife discussing something related to shopping, and me and the husband talking about cricket. We were wringing our hands over the recent defeats of the Indian team when a couple of other guys joined in. Yashodhara and the other woman moved towards the table to get snacks, and soon, my wife and I found ourselves in different circles.
Half an hour later, I re-filled our glasses and scanned the living area to spot Yashodhara. She was busy talking to another couple. I handed her the glass and joined in on their conversation, when one of my newer friends pulled me away saying some guys were playing highlights of the cricket World Cup final in another room on a big screen. I excused myself and went with him, and sure enough, there was a large projector screen on which I saw Gautam Gambhir and MS Dhoni batting. Replays of this match, which India won to lift the title, were always great to watch and re-watch for any Indian cricket fan. We all watched, drank, and reminisced about the win.
The highlights and the ensuing discussion took another hour or so. By the time I got back to the living area, it was even more crowded than before, but with fewer kids. I suppose the party was only now getting started.
I walked around looking for Yashodhara and saw her in the kitchen, refilling her glass, and talking to a middle aged man. I stood about 25 feet away and observed what was happening. From the loopy grin on Yashodhara's face, it was clear that she was buzzed, if not something more. I could also sense that the man was probably flirting with her, and she was flirting back. Haha, I thought to myself, even at a Diwali party, my hot slutty wife was going to find out a way to hook up, huh? I thought it best to not disturb them, and went in the opposite direction, mingling with people and talking.
All around the living area, several card games had started. It is traditional to gamble on Diwali nights, and most people prefer to do it with cards. I joined in one game, and after being up about 200 dollars, cashed out. I walked around a little more and saw that Yashodhara was now drinking and talking to three men, including the one she had been flirting with earlier. She noticed me and gave me a smile. I winked and walked around some more, talking to other people.
"Happy Diwali!" a middle aged lady who was standing by the door greeted us.
"Happy Diwali to you too!" Yashodhara and I replied. And immediately, the air was filled with sounds of bursting fire crackers. When the sound subsided half a minute later, the lady said.
"Feels just like Diwali back home in India doesn't it, with this cacophony?"
"Sure does! I am surprised the neighbors haven't complained to the cops." I said.
"I was wondering about it too, but apparently, everyone who lives within an earshot is Indian and is at the party already."
"Is this your house?"
"No. In fact I am not even sure whose house this is. Anyway, go on in and mingle. It's a very informal party. I have to stay here and keep an eye on my kids."
We walked into the house, and the party seemed to be in full flow. There were groups of people standing around, drinking and eating and talking. The living area was pretty large, and there must have been 50 or so people over there.
"I wonder who the hosts are." Yashodhara said, surveying the scene around us.
"Do you know anyone?" I asked.
"That couple over there. I think I have seen them in the Indian grocery store. But I don't even know their names. How about you?"
"I see a guy I know from work. But not too well."
"Anyway, let's go to the kitchen and keep this stuff somewhere." Yashodhara said raising the plastic bags in her hand.
We headed to the kitchen where a handful of people were helping themselves to some food from the spread laid out. The flyer said this was a pot luck and BYOB party. We had brought a box of Bengali sweets and a dozen samosas, which Yashodhara placed on the table. A man smiled at us and immediately helped himself to a samosa. I headed to what seemed like a makeshift bar next to the fridge and deposited the bottles of wine and vodka that we had brought. I helped myself to a couple of plastic cups in the corner, poured two drinks of vodka and sprite, and handed one to my lovely wife Yashodhara. Soon a couple approached us and started making small talk.
Coming to this party had been Yashodhara's idea. During our last trip to the Indian grocery store, she spotted a flyer announcing this Diwali party. The flyer promised a fun party with lots of fireworks, lights, festivities, and so on. Yashodhara and I weren't really too tuned into the Indian community in town. We never went for these parties, and most of our friends were non-Indian. And if you know a bit about our past, starting with Yashodhara's dalliances with Ramon and other guys, our lifestyle hadn't exactly been appropriate to fit into the largely conservative Indian community. But it had now been almost 3 years that we were in the US. And we hadn't been able to make a single trip back home to India. So both Yashodhara and I occasionally felt longing for India and Indian people, never more so at Diwali. So when Yashodhara suggested we go to this party around Diwali, maybe met some new people, I agreed.
The party also gave us the rare chance to wear Indian clothes. I was dressed in a loose-fitting shervani myself. Yashodhara looked absolutely gorgeous in a green salwar kameez that brought out her lovely gray eyes. The kameez (which is a long top that comes down to the knees) fit her torso perfectly, snugly highlighting her boobs which had gone from C to a D cup in recent years. The neckline was also tantalizingly cut to give a glimpse of her cleavage where her mangalsutra was nestled. The dupatta (which is a long scarf worn around the neck) wrapped around her neck, along with the neckline of her kameez, formed an enticing milky white triangle of the skin around her cleavage. It had taken me a great deal of self-control to not make out with her right there. But this was an Indian party, and no one else seemed to be engaged in any PDA.
So like I said, we were talking to a couple. Soon the conversation split into Yashodhara and the wife discussing something related to shopping, and me and the husband talking about cricket. We were wringing our hands over the recent defeats of the Indian team when a couple of other guys joined in. Yashodhara and the other woman moved towards the table to get snacks, and soon, my wife and I found ourselves in different circles.
Half an hour later, I re-filled our glasses and scanned the living area to spot Yashodhara. She was busy talking to another couple. I handed her the glass and joined in on their conversation, when one of my newer friends pulled me away saying some guys were playing highlights of the cricket World Cup final in another room on a big screen. I excused myself and went with him, and sure enough, there was a large projector screen on which I saw Gautam Gambhir and MS Dhoni batting. Replays of this match, which India won to lift the title, were always great to watch and re-watch for any Indian cricket fan. We all watched, drank, and reminisced about the win.
The highlights and the ensuing discussion took another hour or so. By the time I got back to the living area, it was even more crowded than before, but with fewer kids. I suppose the party was only now getting started.
I walked around looking for Yashodhara and saw her in the kitchen, refilling her glass, and talking to a middle aged man. I stood about 25 feet away and observed what was happening. From the loopy grin on Yashodhara's face, it was clear that she was buzzed, if not something more. I could also sense that the man was probably flirting with her, and she was flirting back. Haha, I thought to myself, even at a Diwali party, my hot slutty wife was going to find out a way to hook up, huh? I thought it best to not disturb them, and went in the opposite direction, mingling with people and talking.
All around the living area, several card games had started. It is traditional to gamble on Diwali nights, and most people prefer to do it with cards. I joined in one game, and after being up about 200 dollars, cashed out. I walked around a little more and saw that Yashodhara was now drinking and talking to three men, including the one she had been flirting with earlier. She noticed me and gave me a smile. I winked and walked around some more, talking to other people.
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