What jhumka? I said it first, in Bangalore!

My jhumka gira re! Yes, it really did. One minute it was dangling merrily from my ear, the next, it wasn’t. 

Now, if you’ll are dying to know what jhumka, like Alia Bhat wanted to know in that film whatsitsname, then you jolly well have to humour me and listen to the full story.

So, there was a wedding in the extended family some months back, obviously the culmination of a niece and her boyfriend ki prem kahani and it was happening in Bangalore. To do justice to the occasion, I took a good 2 hours to get ready, at the end of which, I emerged out of my boudoir decked in my finest pattu saree and the requisite jewellery – bangles, earrings and to complete the ensemble, a big fat necklace, which doubled up as an anchor and kept my head from floating adrift. 

If I had expected gasps of admiration or whistles of appreciation from the family when I swished into the living room – no show. Nothing, nowt, rien! The 3 men had their heads buried deep in their mobiles, so I straightened up from my diva pose and coughed significantly. The husband looked up and merely said “Ready? I’ll call an auto.”

And I said, “What auto?? I am not going bouncing through Bangalore’s dusty polluted roads in an auto and arrive at the wedding like Anjulika. Or is it Manjulika? Whatever!”

So, an Ola was booked and we piled in and journeyed for what seemed like forever from one end of Bangalore to the other. “The newly-weds will have left for their honeymoon,” remarked one son, an hour into the journey.

“Oh!” exclaimed the other. “Won’t there be any dinner then?”

However, despite the genuine concerns, the wedding shebang was going great guns when we finally arrived at destination. There they were, the happy couple, getting thoroughly married with the priest doing his thing on the glittering stage, while below, there was happy chatter and loud music. It was all so like a mela; only the balloon seller and the fortune teller were missing. And the giant wheel too, of course! 

The wedding guests jostled their way up and down the stage or to the dining hall and amidst all that, things got a bit more exciting when one relative stared keenly at me and said, “Where’s your jhumka?”

And I automatically said, “What jhumka?” And I put a hand up to my ear.

And sure enough where was my jhumka? One heavy gold jhumka had fallen off not in Bareilly ke bazaar mein but in a crowded shaadi ka mandap in Bangalore. 

Oh, the excitement, I tell you! The world went into slow-mo, the entire hall echoed with ‘what jhumka’ and everyone began looking hither and tither. Even the priest stopped chanting his mantras and the photo and videographer leapt off the stage to lend their services. 

Someone advised me to jump and I took a few leaps like a baby kangaroo and one guy dived at my feet. I almost said, “Vijayi bhava!” but it turned out he was not there for the blessings. An instant later, he emerged victoriously, with the glittering earring in his hand.

Apparently, it had come undone, got entangled in the folds of my Kanjeevaram saree and finally fell off when I took that leap of faith. 

Ah, what joy, what relief! The world went back to its business, the priest to his chanting and wedding bells chimed once again for the couple. 

I put the earrings into my purse and forgot all about the incident until Alia Bhat made a song and dance about her jhumka, which incidentally never even fell off, if you notice carefully!

Mine did and it’s all legit, so can I sue KJo and team for using that line?

And don’t ask me – what line! Or I’ll start the story all over again!

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