Comment

Today with the ghost of Christmas presents on us, it is as good a time as any to reflect on the spirit of festive cheer and party bonhomie in India. Time was when parties in India were the stiff stuff of colonial rigor. Sepia photographs of the forties reveal burra sahibs, nursing gin and tonics in their hands, looking like they got off an Attenborough film set.

The Indians -if any- appear on the margins, looking shifty as if any moment they expected to be ejected from the frame- if not the party.

Parties in those days, one presumes fit in to either of two categories: the aforementioned ones where whites and browns melded uneasily for a few hours, and the other kind of party- of the freedom fighting variety.

“We were underground, running from the police, living in a commune, and I was cooking meals for 50-60 people, as we planned to overthrow British Rule” my mother often narrates, about those heady days, when you couldn’t say the word party without it being followed with the word politics.

But, of course, not every one was Freedom Obsessed. Up north, one hears of fabulous polo-playing Maharajahs, and newly minted millionaires living it up in palaces and swanky mansions swilling champagne quite oblivious of India’s tryst with destiny.

In the fifties the party agenda appears to have been set by the film crowd: pelvis swivelling stars did the cha cha cha to Chubby Checker tunes, there were framed antelope heads on the walls, swimming pools with see- through floors and the mandatory giant sized bottles of Chivas Regal.

With the goras finally gone, India was celebrating its own birthday, in Pali Hill and Friends Colony and Alipore- the high rollers were beginning to roll in style.

In the sixties the action shifted to Mumbai’s Juhu-Vile Parle, Lutyen’s Delhi and Calcutta’s Park Street, where people were throwing parties frantically and frenetically.

Now on buffet table, the ubiquitous baked fish, caramel pudding and lemon soufflé, complemented the Connie Francis on the music system and the women in French chiffons, and Chanel No. 5, with their men in double breasted suits and bell bottoms trousers. It was fashion’s dubious era and mercifully it reigned but a short while until new beats and hippie vibes engulfed the world.

The Seventies brought in pot parties, discotheques, psychedelic lighting and crazy dancing. It was the time to do your own thing and advertising people threw beer and biriyani parties while the corporate lot went for pot luck and Pani Puri.

As some one who has had the privilege of being hosted in all three of India’s leading metros-Mumbai Delhi and Kolkotta I am often asked how they compare. Rather well is my well-rehearsed reply.

Mumbai tops the lot with the sheer glamour of its caviar and champagne dos in spectacular beachfront mansions. Bollywood stars lend their glamour and of late a Hollywood hunk or two is often present. In Mumbai the gusets are wafer-thin, the booze is bootlegged the food is fusion and the DJ plays all night long-or at least until the cops arrive.

Delhi on the other hand makes up in size and quality what it lacks in glamour. I have been to parties on Delhi farms as big as small European principalities; they come with large swimming pools and even larger politicians.

The glamour is lent by the odd passing ambassador or the odder passing culture vulture. In Delhi the mood is mellow, for the heirloom shawls speak louder than the guests.

Calcutta parties still belong to another more genteel era. You are required to admire the hostess’ chrysanthenums, the host’s art collection and the box wallah’s boss. The waiters come from the Tolly Club, the food from the Calcutta Club and the drinks from the Bengal Club.

So much for the three metros and their hi-jinks, what is it like to party in the twenty first century, in an India where the Sensex is on Viagra?

According to me the best parties in the world are being thrown by Indians in India today. The mood is buoyant, the conversation upbeat, the women exquisite the men bullish, the art spectacular, the food delectable, the service incomparable and the dancing unmatched.

We’ve come a long way from the days when our ancestors looked sullen and insecure on the fringes of colonial gettogethers. Today, the party is on in India and every one is welcome.May it last all night long!