I’ve never understood Americans! Especially american teenagers. They have weird spelling, they have cheerleaders (what? why?) and they go crazy over a game known as football though it has nothing to do with your foot. The most puzzling though, is Prom.  From what I’ve read of it (Meg Cabot, the blame is on you), prom is the epitome of High School social acceptance. If you got a date for it you were set for life, however if you didn’t  (or worse, came stag) people perceived you as they would perceive a hypothetical wart on Angelina Jolie’s nose. A sad anomaly of nature.

But guess what, we have prom in India too! At least in the expensive private schools. However, one here need not be asked to prom. A date is not necessary at all.  The school itself e-mails an invite requesting the honor of having our amazing personalities, clothed in tuxes and dresses we cannot pull off or even ever wear again, to grace it’s stinking, sweaty halls for one night.

Of course even mentioning the word “date” would be scandalous.(The one which you make out with during the slow songs, not the ones which you eat, though that is also possible.) It’s against our sanskriti. Our great oath of allegiance making any form of sexual or amorous relationships incestuous. (All Indian are my brothers and sisters, you see?)  We are left with hunting out spouses from abroad. However, that is also forbidden, just ask Sania Mirza. That leaves us in a bit of a conundrum does it not?

Anyway, I had the opportunity of going for prom last week. It was fun, if you liked dancing, taking pictures and dancing some more (terrible music). Nobody spiked the punch. We didn’t even have punch, we had neembu pani (lemonade). However, I think the essence of prom was preserved.

The girls came in boobs and legs, though specially told to come in clothes. And the boys stuffed tissue up their sleeves to appear to have some inkling of muscles. Like the aunties and uncles of the Great Indian Weddings we too had to be pulled thrice into the dance floor to begin our awkward shaking of butts. Scared stiff that the keepers of our tender hearts will not laugh at us.

Yet it was enjoyable. Probably because I had a date. Haha!!! suckers!!!

Love, Loozerina


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