The Mezz

I don’t know what it is about the Mezz.

The last two times I’ve been there I have not been myself. It’s as if the atmosphere is conducive to shedding inhibitions. Or maybe there’s a mini Elizabeth Hurley with horns and tail smiling down on me from behind the bar.

The last time I went there I had this great experience – almost spiritual – where the world was one big happy place and I knew what I was doing in it. I was hugging people, dancing, it was all like one big smile.

Then yesterday, I don’t know what it was, perhaps the fact that I was still tired out from the party on Sat night, or maybe because the music sucked big time, but I suddenly found myself being judgmental and rude. I am the sort of person who never engages in any sort of confrontation if I can avoid it. Heck, not so long ago I was the kind of person who would not engage in any sort of conversation if I could avoid it! So I am quite surprised at myself.

First I told Vishal Dadlani of Pentagram that he was tight-assed and should learn how to relax. I was just getting this really negative vibe from him, competitive and mean, destroying the positive atmosphere. He was saying snide things, things that mostly go unnoticed cos they are so indirect, but I was catching on to all of them. The shifty eyes. I can’t stand that in the music circle. Music should be about peace and love not about how every vocalist in India except me can’t sing.

Then I turned on B’s friend A. He has a four year old son and had another one just five days ago. Despite the fact that his wife just gave birth he was at the party on Sat nite and got so blown that he had to stay over and was at it again on Sunday. I saw him draped all over this young semi-clad thing talking about how he was disillusioned with marriage and could he look her up when he was in Bombay. I can empathize with someone whose confused about life and the decisions he’s made, but not when that person is a huge, big fake like he is. He talks in a weird American drawl though he’s never been to the US, dyes his beard and hair in various shades of blonde and red, and claims to be spiritual and a great bhakt of some guru. I would find this endearing in a teenager or someone in their twenties but not in a forty year old with two kids.

He came over to us, totally doped out, and started talking about how confused he was and how life had treated him so badly and I just couldn’t take it so I had a wise-ass rejoinder for everything he said. For example when he said he felt like he was in an ocean and couldn’t see the sun I said that I’d pray that he’d drown. And other stuff which I can’t remember till he got up and said he’d see us guys later and walked away. Later on when we were leaving and he was entreating B not to go yet I yelled ‘We have lives!’

I don’t know what I would have done if either of them had started to take me on and had been rude back cos I am extremely slow-witted and wouldn’t have known how to react. (This is the only reason why I wouldn’t win Miss India!)

I think what I had on my side was the fact that they have always perceived me as this sweet, silent person so they were taken aback yesterday.

It felt great though! Thanks Liz!