And with one more misstep, Ruchi almost crashed into Parul, and we burst into laughter. One day to go for the performance we weren’t even sure we’d do until the last minute, yet here we were ..Practising ☺️

Practice, of course, was part serious and more fun affair along with gossiping over cups of tea .We even recorded our practice . We’d review the videos to spot blunders — and somehow always managed to invent brand-new ones in the next round.
By the final day, chaos was an understatement. We were decked out in gajras, with my and Parul’s buns held together by more hairpins than actual hair. Kajal and eyeliner? Check. Red bindis? Perfectly positioned . Red bangles? Yeah ..Clinking loud .Coordinated “SAREES “??…Yes, though the coordination stopped right there.

On stage, our “coordinated dance” was a masterpiece of synchronized chaos. If one of us forgot a step, the rest either followed suit or improvised their own version. We gave each other whispered cues in between and when Parul skipped an entire step, Ruchi had to stage-scold her laughingly ☺️☺️…We giggled, stumbled, and somehow, magically, we made it to the end without anyone falling off the stage.
We were elated coz we had just delivered a perfectly imperfect performance — part dance, part secret stand-up comedy show.
But it was never just about the dance. It was about us — Sujata, Ruchi, Parul, Vimmi, and me and of course “SAREES“.

“SAREES”— our shared obsession & secret indulgence. We need no occasion to buy one but always pretend we do. Every new saree gets paraded in our circle first, away from the judgmental eyes of those who call us “spenders.” It’s a ritual — the excited unfolding, the collective gasp, the whispered details of the deal we got. And birthdays? They aren’t complete without us meticulously picking that one masterpiece saree to gang-gift the birthday girl ☺️

Our sisterhood is about years of friendship that has quietly turned into something deeper. It’s the way we’ve memorized each other’s stories, the way a single look can start a conversation or stop a tear. It’s the comfort of knowing there’s a place where you can be perfectly yourself — not the polished version, but the real, flawed, laughing-until-you-cry version.
Sometimes, it’s just about missing your gal tribe — because 15 days without meeting feels like a lifetime. So you come up with an “dance performance” just to have an excuse to gather. Or maybe it’s a coffee date at Boston Cafe, where the clock is forgotten

This dance performance was just one of our many adventures — a tiny chapter in the story of five women who have turned friendship into a home filled with endless chai cups, shared secrets, impulsive “SAREE” shopping, impromptu plans, and the kind of laughter that makes everything else seem a little less serious.

Suvi’s Scribbles…