It has got to the point where we have forgotten what a party looks like. So while our leaders and betters are busy re-cranking the engine of the economy, it’s time for the rest of us to relearn a vital survival skill — partying.
If you think the purpose of a party is having a rollicking time, you are naive. A party provides a platform to prove how popular and charming you are and how indispensable.
Let’s suppose you get an invitation from an embassy. In terms of snob quotient, consular parties rank high, only below those thrown by Bollywood insiders or corporate czars. The occasion could be to greet a writer or painter, but it could be hu-tu-tu for all you care. You have more important things to attend to — making sure everyone knows. You can “forget” to pick up the invite and leave it face up on your desk or printer or you can introduce it gently into conversation. “This Friday evening, I’ve got to go to that embassy,” you say. “Ah, these parties go on forever.”
Once in, you are there to make your mark and the way to do that is to “work” the crowd. Since parties tend to congeal into little islands, you need to pick the cluster which includes the chief guest and other bigwigs. The next step is to edge yourself in, play polite listener for a while and when you sense the tiniest of pauses in the flow of conversation, pounce into action.
Notable nothings
But what do you say? Mouth notable nothings. Unlike sweet nothings, the nothings at a party are designed to impress rather than express. It doesn’t matter if what you say has no connection with what was said previously, and is neither profound nor witty — it won’t be understood anyway, given the ambient noise and low IQs.
Now, to the refreshments. The good news is that parties are generally flush with good food and drinks. The bad news is that you can’t take as much you would love to. This may be hard to stomach, but the world, in its own perverse way, looks up to gourmets and looks down on gluttons. So you need to prevent yourself from making a grab at anything from prawns to pastries.
While eating, do some role play. For example, you can play the elder statesman who makes mature observations about the cosmos, the coffee… Or you could be the resident wit whose responsibility it is to make everyone laugh. You could throw caution and common manners to the winds and act like some news anchors. Interrogate those around you but squelch them before they can speak. You will draw in a large audience.
As important as your entry is your exit. You score big when you excuse yourself midway, saying you have an appointment you can’t miss, or better still, another party to attend.
The acquaintances you form at one party turn into your bosom friends at the next, and before long, you will have a network that is the envy of lesser mortals. Hurrah! You’ve arrived!
jairam.menon@gmail.com
