ORGANIZER INSULTED AND DIDN’T FEED “GATE CRASHER” WOMAN, BUT EVERYONE BECAME BLIND WHEN SHE STOPPED THE MUSIC AND SHOUTED: “GET OUT! THIS IS MY HOUSE!”
Everyone attending the Silver Reunion of Batch ’98 was dressed in lehengas and sherwanis.
The venue: the famous and exclusive Panchavati Villa, a private mansion with a vast garden and swimming pool.
The organizer of the event was Tanishka, the former “Queen Bee” of high school who is now a self-proclaimed “Event Curator.” Tanishka was strict. She didn’t want anyone who “shouldn’t be here” at her party.
While the guests were enjoying themselves and eating Biryani and Mughlai Buffet, Tanishka noticed someone at the end of the long table.
A woman. She was wearing a simple salwar kameez, a loose-fitting dress, sandals, and no make-up. She silently picked up a plate and scooped up some Paneer Tikka.
“Hey Bhagwan!” Tanishka shouted. “Security! Why did a gate crasher get in?!”
Tanishka quickly approached the woman and grabbed her plate.
CLANK! The paneer spilled onto the grass.
“Arre Bua!” Tanishka shouted, which was heard by the entire party. “You have such a thick face to eat here! This is a reunion for the successful, not langar for the likes of you!”
The woman, Baa Sarla, was surprised.
“Beti… I was just going to take a taste. It smells delicious.”
“Delicious?!” Tanishka was disgusted. “Of course it’s delicious, we pay a lot for it! That’s not for the aayas or dhobi who got lost! Get out of here! You’re ruining the view! Chalo!”
The other “elite” guests laughed at Baa Sarla.
“Haan ji, Bua! Wahaan jaake kuch bacha hua khana dhoondho!” one shouted.
Baa Sarla bowed her head. Not out of shame, but out of anger. She took a deep breath.
Baa Sarla walked. Not out of the gate, but towards the DJ Booth.
“Arre! Kahan ja rahi ho?!” Tanishka chased after her. “Behri ho kya? Main keh rahi hoon bahar jao!”
Upon reaching the booth, Baa Sarla pulled out the main plug of the sound system.
ZZZZZT!
The music died. The lights on the dance floor went out. The entire haveli fell silent.
“KYA HO GAYA?!” Tanishka shouted. “Why did you kill him?! Paagal ho?!”
Baa Sarla took the emergency microphone connected to the battery-operated speaker.
She faced the hundreds of guests. The old man’s gentle face was gone.
“KAUN KEH RAHA THA KI MAIN BAHAR JAUN?” asked Baa Sarla, her voice with an authority that made feathers stand on end.
“Main!” Tanishka challenged. “Main organizer hoon! Aur aapko invitation nahi hai!”
Baa Sarla smiled happily.
“Tum sirf ek organizer ho,” Sarla said emphatically. “Main is haveli ki maalik hoon, jise aap paon tale kuchal rahe hain.”
Tanishka’s eyes widened.
“K-kyaaaa?”
The Catering Manager came out from the kitchen. He ran to Baa Sarla and bowed.
“Baa Sarla ji! Maaf kijiye! Mujhe pata nahi tha aap apne shaamiana se utar aayenge! Main aapke liye VIP table lagwata hoon!”
Everyone turned pale. The girl in a simple salwar whom they call “aaya” is the crorepati who owns Panchavati Villa.
“Koi zaroorat nahi,” replied Baa Sarla. He looked at Tanishka whose knees were shaking now.
“Mainne yeh ghar tumhe isliye muft diya tha kyunki tumhari classmate meri poti hai. Humne kaha tha, tum maze karo. Mainne yeh nahi kaha tha ki tum ghar ke maalik ko beizzati kar sakte ho bas uske kapde dekh ke.”
Baa Sarla pointed to the gate.
“Kyunki tumne mera khaana phenk diya aur mujhe bahar nikalne ko kaha…”
Baa Sarla shouted:
“BAHAR JAO!!! SAB LOG MERI HAWELI SE ABHI NIKAL JAAO! PARTY KHATAM HAI!”
“P-par Baa Sarla ji…” cried Tanishka. “Catering ka paisa diya hai… barbaad ho jayega…”
“Kutton ko khila do! Ya phir un aaya aur dhobi ko baant do jinko tum neecha dikha rahe the! Bas mere aangan mein bure acharan bardaasht nahi honge! CHALO BAHAR!”
Everything is in chaos. Those in lehengas and sherwanis ran out. They carry their purses and juttis, sharminda, while others blame Tanishka.
Within ten minutes, no one was left in the haveli but Baa Sarla and the staff.
“Beta,” Baa Sarla ordered the manager. “Jo bacha hua khaana hai, sab guards, malis, aur padosiyon ko bulao. Aaj hum apni party manayenge. Unhe khilao. Wahi asli VIP hain.”
Tanishka was left outside the gate, ro rahi thi jabki baarish ho rahi thi, aur use ek sikh mili ki kabhi bhi kisi kitaab—ya kisi ke ghar ke maalik—ka andaaza sirf uske cover se nahi lagaana chahiye.
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