by Rrashima Swaarup Verma
As I hand my car keys to the valet and step out, I wonder for the hundredth time whether this is a good idea. I’m usually a very in-control sort of a person and hardly, if ever, unsure about anything. But now here I am, about to step completely out of my comfort zone. ‘I’m a lawyer, for God’s sake! How did I ever land up in a kitty party of all things?’ I mutter to myself as I smooth down the skirt of my black suit. Most of my wardrobe consists of black and grey trousers, skirts and jackets, punctuated here and there with the odd dress or sari on the rare occasion that I want to jazz it up a little. I slip off my sunglasses and adjust my handbag on my left forearm. After all, that’s how most of these women carry their bags, isn’t it?
To clarify my position, I haven’t anything particularly against kitty parties. However, to put it kindly, given a choice, I wouldn’t be caught dead in one of them. For one thing, I’m a Partner in one of the country’s leading law firms and therefore usually too busy to make time for something as frivolous as a kitty party and for another, even if I do have the time, I’d much rather do something constructive. But when my dearest friend Vidya called last week and suggested that we meet for lunch, I didn’t think she meant this. I still can’t believe that she talked me into it. The crafty little wretch, she always did have extraordinarily good convincing abilities.
As I enter the restaurant, I can’t help but look around in awe. Chez Laurent is a spanking new French restaurant in the heart of South Delhi and has received rave reviews in almost every newspaper. Not surprisingly, it is as elegant and chic as I’d expected. There is a wine room at one end, a show kitchen with a Molteni range and an overall contemporary style. Expectedly, almost all the tables are occupied since it’s a Saturday afternoon but Vidya’s group is easy to spot – how difficult would it be not to notice more than half a dozen gossipy women all chattering and laughing at the same time! I walk over to the table and Vidya’s eyes light up as soon as she sees me. She envelops me into a warm hug and then proceeds to introduce me to all fifteen of her friends. I smile and greet everyone with confident poise. I am, after all, the modern career woman and now that I think about it, how difficult could it be to make small talk with these women for an hour? After all, designer bags, maid servants and charity events is probably all they’ll talk about!
“So Ramola, we loved the Sencha tea you got us from Japan.” The lady who has spoken, just like all the others, wears a huge solitaire on her perfectly manicured hand and has sleek, shiny hair which she can toss quite effortlessly over her shoulders. I know I don’t have sleek shiny hair and it’s been more than two months since I got myself a manicure but then between client meetings and court dates I don’t really have a lot of time for frivolous things like manicures and blow dries. It’s different for these women who probably spend half their lives in spas and salons anyway. “Yes, it was very flavorsome indeed,” agrees another lady, as she delicately sips her iced tea, careful not to smudge her lipstick. Ramola, who happens to be sitting directly opposite me, smiles in response and waves the thanks away. “Speaking of tea, did you read about how the Indian tea industry is facing sustainability challenges?” adds a lady from the far end of the table. “The industry has to learn to manage production costs to stop prices from rising and potentially reducing consumption.” “Yes, but it is essential that the industry retains its workforce with competitive pay!” exclaims another lady. “Furthermore, if further mechanization is introduced, training must be given to maintain quality issues.” I look up in surprise. This lady too has glossy hair and perfectly manicured nails and doesn’t look like the type who would know much about the tea industry in India. “Well, I’m glad you liked the tea,” remarks Ramola then.
“We’re planning to visit Darjeeling in September and I’ll get you all some Oolong this time. It’s going to be a short trip, though, since my book launch is in October.” This woman writes books! She’s actually an author! I look at her with new respect. Amazing, to say the least! “We’re going to Jaisalmer next month,” comments another lady in a floral dress. “My husband was suggesting that we go abroad but really, why bother? There are plenty of options in India. In fact, they say that the Indian tourism industry is going to grow at 7% this year outperforming the general economy by 2.5%.” Is it? Why do I not know this? “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask! Can any of you recommend a furnishing store around here? I’m thinking of redoing the apartment.” I’m just about to remind Vidya that this is probably the fifth time in two years that she’s redoing her apartment but another lady speaks up before me. Just as well! For want of anything better to do, most of these women probably redo their apartments all the time anyway. “Well, Ikea was in the process of setting up stores in India but now it seems that the first one won’t happen before 2016,” says the lady. “Really? I thought it would happen sooner than that!” I say. I can’t help my disappointment. I was looking forward to shopping at Ikea. I really like their furniture. “Well, apparently they haven’t even identified a location for their first store. Don’t you read the newspaper?” laughs the lady, glancing at the expensive watch on her wrist. “I wonder where the food is? I’m famished!” Don’t I read the newspaper? Well! I’m almost crimson with mortification. Of course I read the newspaper! Just because my work doesn’t leave me with a lot of spare time to go through every little piece of news does not mean I don’t read the newspaper. She made me feel ignorant! And why aren’t they discussing maids and charity events and designer handbags? I feel positively let down!
Lunch is delicious but I don’t think I even noticed what I ate. We’re now finally on the last course and even though the Crème Brûlée that I’ve ordered is usually my favourite indulgence, I can barely taste it. The babble of voices at our table has become louder, faster and more insistent and I simply can’t keep up with it. “Singapore Prime Minister Lee Hsien Loong invited Narendra Modi to visit the country and …..” “Mumbai property market finally looking up again…..” “World’s oldest sperm discovered in Australia……blah blah blah.” My head is spinning and I feel like I’m in the middle of a dream. I have never felt as tongue tied before and I suddenly realize that I haven’t said much throughout lunch. Thankfully, the waiter suddenly appears with the bill and all the women start digging into their bags. The sound of rustling notes is a welcome respite and I heave a sigh of relief.
“Well, Punita, I hope it wasn’t too awful.” Vidya smiles sheepishly at me as I hand the parking coupon to the valet. An assortment of expensive cars has already started lining up the driveway. “Don’t worry about it,” I assure her as we hug. “It was certainly an eye opener to say the least.” She laughs and kisses me quickly on both cheeks. “Well, let’s catch up soon over a cup of coffee,” she suggests, “…just the two of us this time.” “Not a chance,” I retort “My turn next time! I’m dragging you to a lawyer’s conference next week.” We laugh together and my car arrives.
“You’re just in time. I just made some coffee.” My husband Sandeep smiles at me as I enter the apartment and I beam at him happily. I’m actually pleasantly surprised to see him back early since he’s been working late every day the last few weeks. “So, you and a kitty party, huh? I can’t believe it! How was it?” he laughs as he hands me a mug of freshly brewed coffee and I sniff the aroma appreciatively. “Well, I guess it was certainly interesting,” I remark as I sip my coffee and he raises his eyebrows. “Interesting? What’s interesting about a kitty party? You must have discussed designer handbags, maids and charity events with a bunch of frivolous women all afternoon.” He looks at me expectantly but I’m quick to shake my head. “Frivolous? I don’t think so. And we actually didn’t discuss designer handbags, maids or charity events at all. And by the way, I don’t think I’ll be able to accompany you to that FICCI lunch next Saturday. I’ve joined the kitty party.”
Rrashima Swaarup Verma has an MBA in Marketing. She is Senior Director – Business Development with a leading, multinational business intelligence and strategic consulting company. She has worked on numerous projects with leading Indian and international corporations and has wide experience in business writing across a diverse spectrum of functional and industry segments. Rrashima is also a fiction writer and poet and several of her compositions have been published in leading newspapers, magazines and literary journals.
