When I landed in the land of queen my company put me up in its guesthouse and assigned flat 224 to me. It’s a 2 BHK and I share it with a colleague.
The first thing he did was to warn me as being the unfortunate soul to be the latest host at Club 224. Well I exactly did not get it and he asked me to wait till Friday to know all about it.
As it turned out my wait was short lived and the Spain Russia encounter on Thursday enlightened me on my current dwelling.
Just to build the background, the building of my apartment has most flats occupied by people from my company who being away from home have developed a strong affinity towards each other. And for yet to be discovered reasons they have chosen Club 224 as the warren for all the merry making.
It started with a ring at the door and someone zoomed in carrying a chicken in each hand. Before I could fathom anything a small 5’5” human being entered with two six packs of Heineken. What followed next was an ensemble cast of a soap opera. Each contributing in his/her own way from coke zero to pita bread to single malt to cigarettes. And then there was united effort or the lack of it towards cooking dinner, mixing drinks and most importantly taking each other’s case. For once it was nice sitting on the sidelines and enjoying every bit of it while resisting the urge to smoke.
The match ended with Spain thrashing Russia 3-0 but the big connoisseur of football I am it really did no matter. What really mattered was to see people who otherwise wouldn’t have given a damn about each other in their home country, come together for no cause but just for a relatively enhanced evening.
People took great pains in convincing me that the Club was not in its full swing and I should wait for Friday when it is up and running till wee hours of the morning. And yes I discovered that entry is by invitation only. Did I say I can’t wait for it?
