As I lie in bed, still awake at 4 am, pulling the bobby pins out of my previously perfect Deepkia Padukone-esque hair bun, I mull over what the Lahori shaadi season has evolved into: never ending dance practises, held and attended by people who still seem to be stuck in high school.
The problem is the people who are at the dance practices: Lahoris. Mind you, I happen to be a proud Lahori myself, but maybe I belong to a dying breed of Lahoris; I don’t measure my self-worth based on the number of weddings I’m invited to and I don’t boast about how many people are dying for me to attend their dance practises.
Dance practices are to Lahoris what being a cheerleader or jock is to American high schoolers. What is so great about being stuck in a room, modestly sized if your cousin or friend is blessed with rich parents, with twenty plus people who are trying their best to learn dances just so they can one up the other side of the wedding party. What the actual f***. When did it become like this?
Or more importantly, if it was always like this, why the f*** aren’t people growing out of it?
There has to be more meaning to life than getting piss drunk on Saturday night parties and getting high every other day of the week. The halal version of this isn’t much better-kitty parties, gossip, and a world obsessed with logos and monograms from the most expensive brands.
Is Lahore a city where ambition comes to die? Where careers don’t flourish because everyone is caught up trying to prove that they are already successful? Probably.
Lahore is the land of the entitled, where a Pajero and a LV bag earns you respect and grit doesn’t mean much. Your small talk skills mean more than your words having any weight. This is a city full of entitled kids who never learned to ‘#adult’.
So the next time you go to a dance practise or a Saturday night party, don’t miss out on the socialite who is still trying to prove her worth by name dropping every fifteen seconds or the boy who can’t stop talking about his latest trip to Europe-which was obviously funded by his parents.
See through their bulls*** and realise that if you aren’t them, that’s a good thing, because it means you’ve actually grown rather than letting the toxicity fester around you.