We are coming close to the end of another festive season, a season of joy, love, laughter, and an exceedingly false hope that this year is going to be merrier, even if microscopically, than the one that just went by. Everyone I meet exasperatingly tells me how many functions they have to jabardasti attend, the treacherous traffic they will need to navigate through, the over-eating they are forced to indulge in, and the under-clothing they revel in out of choice. I, on the other hand have no such grievances: first, I drive a Maruti 800 and traffic does not bother me; second, I enjoy overeating; and third, I can wear the same dagli to every function.
