Gunfire, Car Bomb or Indian Wedding?

Ah yes...long day at work and I'm exhausted. Kids are in bed, so it's time to relax and unwind with a good book (mediocre really, but that doesn't paint the same picture). Lounging in the armchair, I feel the tension and stress of my day slowly ebb from my body.

And then...loud, I mean LOUD, bursts, repetitive and close.

Pop quiz, hot shot?!? Gunfire or Indian Wedding? Well, it was close...very close, but I haven't heard any screaming or yelling or shouts for help or shouts in general, which one might expect to hear after a shooting. The number of people in Delhi almost guarantees multiple witnesses to any event, criminal or otherwise...to the point where men won't even bother to piss behind a tree on the roadside because there's sure to be at least someone behind the same tree, so why not piss out in the open. I digress. The absence of screaming, yelling and/or shouting...probably not gunfire. Indian Wedding? Perhaps.

My nerves settle somewhat...I mean, I was pretty relaxed until all of that. I get back to my book (which is sliding from mediocre to outright crap). Thankfully, before I can read the next ridiculous plot twist, I'm interrupted by a loud BOOM...loud enough and BOOM-Y enough that objects in the house rattle.

Pop quiz, hot shot?!? Car bomb or Indian Wedding? Well, it too was close...very, very close. I'm not dead nor am I covered in anything or anyone that appears dead nor am I covered in debris, soot, portions of wall or vehicle parts, so it probably wasn't a car bomb. Nevertheless, just to be safe, I walk to the window (maybe not safe in retrospect) to make sure their wasn't a gaping hole in our perimeter wall. The last thing I would have liked to see at 9:30 p.m. on a Thursday night...other than ER (which couldn't be saved if George Clooney and "Goose" tongue-kissed for an entire episode -- not that I'd want to see that, but at least it would make interesting TV). I digress. No hole in the wall. No missing limbs. Evidence that we were not under attack. Indian Wedding? Very likely.

I pick my book up from the floor and I go to the bathroom, not because I was that frightened by the noise, I just figured if I finally relaxed again and heard another loud BOOM...well, I didn't want to take any chances. Figured clearing the ole system wasn't a bad idea. I then settle back into the armchair and find the place where I left off in my book...just after some alien-octopus-like things burst from some lady's body - I mean, does Scott Sigler have an original thought in his head...who isn't published these days? Perhaps I should send the grocery list off to Random House. Then, ever-so faintly..."Gasolina" starts to play from the street...yes, "Gasolina." The last time I heard that was at my cousin's Long Island Bar Mitzvah. From the street, drums chime in, off-beat of course...trumpets blare out-of-tune, and "Gasolina" is played repeatedly. A cacophony (yes, I just used that word) of voices, yells, cheers...of Hindi, erupts from the other side of our wall. Noise, NOISE, NOISE!!! Just noise...in celebration of a beautiful union. It nearly brought a tear to my eye...not from happy-sadness, but a mixture of annoyance and anger and frustration (if you wake up my damn kids, I swear to Ganesh!).

Pop quiz, hot shot?!? Indian Wedding? You bet. Desensitizing all of us to the very real threat of gunfire and car bombs in Delhi? Without question.

But, you know, it's all worth it when an hour and a half later Vijay and Pooja were able to call one another "Man and Wife." Of course, they could call each other that all they want...but could they hear it?

Delhi...OUT!!