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  • Writer's pictureVedashree Khambete Sharma

Groovy, baby!

Dear Diary,

Last night, I went for my first office party, and you know what? It was fun. Lispy had raved about these parties so much, and I admit, I was a little curious. Frankly, she made it sound like every office party here was a bed of vice, a site of untold decadence and therefore, a really, really fun place to be. Not that she’s any scale of reference though.

Anyway, it was called ‘Hippie Hippie Hurray!’ (please note the feeble attempt at wit). I was surprised at the enthusiasm, to say the least. People actually showed up in hippie garb, age and designations notwithstanding. Naturally, there were the few party-poopers who didn’t, along with the inevitable illiterates who thought ‘hippie’ was the same as ‘hip-hop’, and showed up in berets. But on the whole, you got to see copious amounts of bright colours, head-bands, peace-signs and bad Afro wigs. (One guy actually ended up looking like a cross between Hendrix and Lenny Kravitz!)

Now, there’s no hiding from you the fact that I enjoy costume parties. Remember the time I went for my own birthday party as Pochahontas? And for the Pirates of the Carribean farwell party as a wench? I don’t know – it’s fun dressing up, I suppose. So I wore flared jeans, a bright orange flowery halter-top, a red scarf as a headband, large sunglasses and because I’m me, a cardigan. What? It was cold outside…

I gotta say though, I was pleasantly surprised by the band. See, when I read that there was a live band scheduled to play, I immediately put my head between knees and whimpered. Hard Rock Cafe memories were still fresh. But, wonder of wonders, the band that we had was VAYU! Needless to say, they rocked, belting out Pearl Jam, The Doors, Pink Floyd numbers which made it seem less of a party, more of a concert. Later, of course, the DJ began churning out the usual dance-trance numbers, at which point the entire office got on the dance floor and shook their collective booty under the disco-balls and strobe-lights (yes, this actually happened). I danced like a maniac, after a long time, and with people I know only slighty. Talk about being someone else!

I also got to see firsthand why they say this is the coolest ad agency in India. The sheer number of films that have been generated by this office, along with a brilliant spoof AV that was cut on the office junta in general, is evidence enough. The food wasn’t bad, the bar was open. People threw up, got asthama attacks and in general behaved in a manner that indicated that it was a wild party. Oh, and nobody had sex on the dance floor. That I know of.

Till I find more dirty laundry then,


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