Dahlin (if I may),
Because akka is just not me, you know? Gawd, it’s been such a long time since I called anyone ‘dahlin’. Why, you ask? It’s the Corona thingie, sweetheart. I know it’s not fashionable to talk of how the lives of People Like Us have been disrupted by the virus and the lockdowns, but my social scene has completely collapsed, like the Indian test team’s batting. I mean, of course I worry about the workers and all, but you know, I had to do the dishes! Too, too traumatic. And I haven’t been to a party in ages! Or on vacation! And now they tell me a new mutant of this monster is doing the rounds! I mean, seriously? If this means we are grounded for longer, that sucks. Be a doll and tell me: how does a girl have a new year party this godforsaken year without worrying about this wretched virus?
— Bored Socialite
Dear BS,
I sympathise. All those glam outfits in your wardrobe and nowhere to dress up and go. And what’s a Page 3 photo worth if you are wearing those unsexy masks? Yes, I know you’ve upped your eyeshadow and liner quotient, but it’s just not the same, is it? Rina complained bitterly that one paparazzo didn’t even recognise her. (Although honestly, dearest, he should have recognized her silicone.) And anyway, why party if you can’t pout for Insta?
So, let’s see now. You are already good at air-kissing, so there’s no danger of any real affection, sorry infection, being exchanged, but Corona is treacherous that way. Imagine the indignity of going ‘mwaah’ and then, two days later, being contact-traced in your chattering-class sorority.
It’s not fair. Every trivial concern of the ‘other half,’ its lives and livelihoods, gets prime-time coverage, but you bear your cross of social asceticism in silence. This absence of socialising is worse by far than death by Corona.
But if there’s one thing this year has taught us, it’s that fun-loving folks will always find a way out. Remember the young woman who braved the streets and the trauma of being a life-long meme to bang plate with ladle and shout Go Corona Go? If she’s not a party gal, I don’t know who is. Take a page from her book. If steel plates are not your thing, wear your silk jammies, step out with a Swarovski-studded stiletto, and bang it against your best Noritake plate.
In my own gated community, our spirit found expression during lockdown in ‘balcony antakshari’ and ‘lean-over tambola’ parties. We too have been deprived of our coffee meets and rummy afternoons, but we have borne it with fortitude. You should do the same. Try a balcony bash. I know this isn’t exactly the head-banging fun you crave, but there’s something to be said for the resourcefulness of these mezzanine mamis. I like their spirit, even if I don’t really miss their party food.
If all this is too lowbrow for you, BS, then I urge you to consider a Zoom party. And if you think they lack the sizzle of a flesh-and-blood soirée, you’ve been sadly misled. Many, many Zoomers forget to turn their cameras off and carry smartphones into certain rooms, only to — how shall I put it — livestream their live streams. And others, in the Zen state induced by Zoom, have forgotten themselves enough to be caught on camera with their pants down doing what, we’ll let your imagination guess.
So, unless you are confident that, like a certain mitron messiah, you will be camera-aware at all times, turning this way and that to follow the lens, then beware. Because there are some Page 3 shots you definitely don’t want to be in. Mwaah dahlin!
— AA
agony.akka@gmail.com
