22nd December.  Sunday. The fourth Sunday of Advent. That ushers in the week of the Angel who had, two thousand and nineteen years ago, announced to a poor woman at Bethlehem the tidings of the Almighty sending His Son to dwell among mortals through her blessed womb and in the foster care of a lowly carpenter from an obscure line of David. And as if on cue, the long-awaited tramontane, to borrow the language of the meteorologist,  from the north has blown in what in recent years has turned into an increasingly ephemeral winter, -- the snap, for all purposes, likely to be gone with the Twelfth Night. And what more fitting a way to commemorate this special Yule Sabbath than in the dignified ambiance – perplexing  are the ways of the language, a vowel changes the pronunciation from English to French -- of a candlelight dinner.  Somewhere, unnoticed by the author, there must have been glowing a purple candle. At DI.

A canopy of crimson and white brought about a cheerful air, just as it provided a lee from the chill descending on the verdant lawn. Fairy lights in shades of blue, green, pink and white strung across the length and breadth of the shamiana, Chinese lanterns in hues of blue, pink and red, the baubled, tinselled and lit-up Christmas tree on the dais, a spit at the boundary wall on the north, flanked by an illuminated Santa and three spirited reindeers with their argentine antlers, lent the Noel flavour.

The twenty five round tables draped in black, complemented by matching chairs sashed in gold satin, seated one hundred and twenty five members, -- a distinct decline  from the one hundred and seventy nine who had turned up last year, the number steadily dwindling over the years, prompting the President, Jayajit Biswas, to lament in the course of his welcome address. He reminisced the days when there used to be nine long tables, each headed by a Council member.

Of haute couture, there was no dearth, though; one member observed that it is on this one evening that one gets to see so many elegantly turned-out ladies. The lounge-suits, disinterred from wardrobes where they remain mothballed for eleven months of the year, ensured the gentlemen would not be caught in deshabille.

It was in this setting that the MC, the Man who Cheers up, set the evening rolling. Yes, dear DItes, you have guessed right – I refer to none other than Leslie D’Gama. He set about implementing  promptly – dispensing congeniality, that is -- by declaring, to general approval, that there would be two complimentary drinks instead of the usual single, along with wine for the ladies. The sponsors, 100 Pipers, must have felt that the plunge of the mercury warranted an extra measure.  Leslie then called upon the President to raise the loyal toast, which the latter complied with along with the Council members, all of whom he, the President, introduced to the assembled members. He dwelt on what he termed an annual ritual, as over the last so many years this special evening has turned into a tradition, venerable, one qualifies, of the club.

The Club Colours was then presented to avid sportsman, Chinmay Basu, in absentia. While recommending Basu’s name, Samir Doshi gave a brief account of the sporting activities of the club: of the ten games the club had competed in recently, it fought its way up to the finals in five and won four, -- a commendable performance, indeed.

 

The awards for the staff members went to Manzoor and Dilshad, two young sommeliers steadfastly  lifting up spirits in glasses of ale at the Main Bar.

The President's Award for the member of the year was conferred upon  Miraj Digvijay Shah, whose quiet, behind-the-scenes diligence have kept the accounts of the club up-to-date and accurate.

In a departure from normal practice, the  Life Membership had  been conferred on the Roychowdhurys, Minu and Robin, earlier on the Christmas Carols Evening as the couple would not be in town.

The President rounded up his address by expressing his thanks  to his colleagues in the Council, the members of the various sub-committees, the staff and to the members present. The lucky draws saw Mrs King and Suranjan Das walk away the richer by a bottle.  

The above is an attempt at giving a picture of one half of the evening. The other half, yours truly endeavours to bring to you, dear DIte, herein-below. The summoning of such officialese is to bear accent on its formal nature. One refers to the dinner.

The gleaming tableware,  -- with the glass bowl at the centre enclosing a candle and a miniature Christmas tree, -- welcoming the members, whet the appetite in no mean measure. Raja Singha Roy, the master chef and owner of the catering company, Sheriff, made certain that discerning palates were accorded reason to nod their appreciation. Steaming bowls of cream soup, chicken and vegetable demarcating the line, warmed up not just the body but the cockles of the heart as well. While Stuffed Bell Peppers hors-d’eouvred the one side, salami, ham and sausage comprised the cold cuts on the other. Both with the relish of Russian Salad. Fish Florentine was followed by Pot Roast Chicken, Rosemary Mutton with roast potatoes, Turkey in Cranberry Sauce and  Butter Parsley Rice. While the last remained common for the herbivores, Vegetable Au Gratin, Paneer Fritters in Barbecue Sauce, Pasta Neopolitan and Cauliflower Mornay made up their main course. Fruit Trifle and Plum Pudding with Brandy Sauce straddled the divide.

It is a measure of the fortitude and resilience of the lady, that smitten with serious problems at home, Debra Alexander was overseeing the preparation of the food and catering with her customary zeal and assiduity. And as always, Dipak Srivastava, Ruth Crizzle and Michael Rao rallied round. If there were a second toast, it would surely have been in recognition of the services of this tireless foursome. Along with a nod, of course,  for Leslie.

To go back all the way, he introduced, at the very beginning, the tenor, Lief Vanjour. Amit Ukil compared him to Tom Jones.  To the accompaniment of backing tracks, Lief punctuated the speeches and awards with, among others, Hello, Last Christmas, Wonderful Tonight and Save the Last Dance for Me. And save the dance did many a couple that night. For the last.

[Photo Credits: Shubham Poddar]