When it comes to deciding whether or not I’m going to go to a particular Indian party, location plays an important role. No one can really say they won’t come to a party if it’s in the glitziest of surroundings, and admittedly this has become a growing trend for most functions these days. Back in the day, my parents had their wedding reception above a supermarket, and growing up I recall vast arenas full of linear tables resembling German beer halls. I know we’ve come a long way since then. As credit became easily available during the nineties, and early noughties the parties became more and more lavish. Gone were the days of leisure centres and town halls, and in were the fancy hotels and country parks. It always made a nice change not to have dinner tables marked out on a basketball court – and ‘if that family has a chocolate fountain for no apparent reason, then we must have one too!’
During recent years, as we’ve seen people cut down on their spending. Venues have had it tough; people have been trying harder to impress one another with tighter budgets. Polystyrene cups and flimsy plastic trays were hideous for the environment, but they did bring with them a slight old world charm. Are we going to make a bigger trend towards simpler times? As I pondered this, I was invited to a party held in a lavish hall, situated in the beautiful surrounds of an industrial car park. This was one up from a venue in Birmingham which had the most wonderful fruit buffet, but was situated above a warehouse in another crack-den part of town. Was it just me, or was there some sort of massive irony in all of this? I know places such as the meat packing district in NY and perhaps east London, to certain extents, can get away with such things, but how does it compare to lots of ladies in suits having to trail through alley ways to find the party, is this a new cool? I know it’s difficult to get everything you want, but I’d much rather settle on retrospective methods, than go forwards and cut corners.
Sandeep Sandhu was born and raised a Londoner, hailing from the prominent NRI outpost that is Southall. The town has certainly shaped his writing and perception of the world and continues to be a thriving cosmopolitan part of the city. More taken with literature and the arts, he quickly pursued these both academically and personally. You’re likely to see him providing social commentary on health and well-being, popular culture and the general cultural condition of being an NRI in London.
Peta Jinnath Andersen is a freelance and fiction writer. Born in Sydney, Australia, to a Fiji-Indian father and Scottish mother, she’s a bit confused about her background, but loves it all the same. Currently living in the US, she has just had her first child, and is busy studying hard in an effort to learn more about her Indian heritage – including taking Hindi lessons – so she can teach her son about just what it is that makes an NRI special.
