<p>I had to go to the Chief General Manager with some important papers for sanctions and post facto approvals . After the discussions while I was leaving he informed me that he was inviting Mr X, managing director of Andhra Pradesh State Financial Corporation, for dinner at his place and would I care to join in with my husband. I said I would be delighted and took leave of him . The only thing I missed out was the date, I couldn’t quite remember whether it was that day or the next. Anyway, the entire day lay ahead of me and as the immediate call of duty was loud and clear, I thought I would find out by and by. That never happened and I reached home none the wiser.</p>.<p>Since all of us stayed in the same executive enclave and my flat was opposite the CGM’s bungalow, I thought if I would see vehicles pulling up at his residence, the dinner was on. I soon saw a number of vehicles parked in the vicinity of his house and I thought my assumptions were right. I hustled my husband into getting ready, no mean effort, and there we were at his doorway in double quick time. We were graciously received by the CGM and his wife and ushered up to the sprawling terrace looking festive with streamers and balloons and the buzz of conversation. It looked like a regular party, not a small dinner.</p>.<p>There I saw the entire CGM’s Secretariat turned out in full strength with families in tow but no sign of Mr X. When I asked the personal secretary in a whisper, he expressed ignorance and I thought there could have been a last minute cancellation. I let the thought rest and had a rollicking time with the grand spread and great camaraderie under a twinkling sky and the evening hours flew by.</p>.<p>Finally, while seeing us off the CGM with his broadest smile, remarked, “Thank you for coming today . But I certainly hope you will come tomorrow since I have invited Mr and Mrs X for dinner.”</p>.<p>Such was my consternation that I turned away muttering a confused apology, with my husband wondering why he was roped into this embarrassing situation. Well, while I attended the dinner the next day I am guilty of several instances of the kind, where I arrived at the wrong pandal during the wedding season when a series of weddings were taking place in the vicinity, puzzling over why I could not place a single invitee, went to the examination centre expecting a biology paper instead confronting a math paper, wished wrong friends on wrong dates for birthdays and anniversaries. </p><p>The reason for these mix ups is perhaps an errant gene somewhere in a long ancestry, but they do make worthwhile memories and a natural raconteur <br>out of me.</p>
<p>I had to go to the Chief General Manager with some important papers for sanctions and post facto approvals . After the discussions while I was leaving he informed me that he was inviting Mr X, managing director of Andhra Pradesh State Financial Corporation, for dinner at his place and would I care to join in with my husband. I said I would be delighted and took leave of him . The only thing I missed out was the date, I couldn’t quite remember whether it was that day or the next. Anyway, the entire day lay ahead of me and as the immediate call of duty was loud and clear, I thought I would find out by and by. That never happened and I reached home none the wiser.</p>.<p>Since all of us stayed in the same executive enclave and my flat was opposite the CGM’s bungalow, I thought if I would see vehicles pulling up at his residence, the dinner was on. I soon saw a number of vehicles parked in the vicinity of his house and I thought my assumptions were right. I hustled my husband into getting ready, no mean effort, and there we were at his doorway in double quick time. We were graciously received by the CGM and his wife and ushered up to the sprawling terrace looking festive with streamers and balloons and the buzz of conversation. It looked like a regular party, not a small dinner.</p>.<p>There I saw the entire CGM’s Secretariat turned out in full strength with families in tow but no sign of Mr X. When I asked the personal secretary in a whisper, he expressed ignorance and I thought there could have been a last minute cancellation. I let the thought rest and had a rollicking time with the grand spread and great camaraderie under a twinkling sky and the evening hours flew by.</p>.<p>Finally, while seeing us off the CGM with his broadest smile, remarked, “Thank you for coming today . But I certainly hope you will come tomorrow since I have invited Mr and Mrs X for dinner.”</p>.<p>Such was my consternation that I turned away muttering a confused apology, with my husband wondering why he was roped into this embarrassing situation. Well, while I attended the dinner the next day I am guilty of several instances of the kind, where I arrived at the wrong pandal during the wedding season when a series of weddings were taking place in the vicinity, puzzling over why I could not place a single invitee, went to the examination centre expecting a biology paper instead confronting a math paper, wished wrong friends on wrong dates for birthdays and anniversaries. </p><p>The reason for these mix ups is perhaps an errant gene somewhere in a long ancestry, but they do make worthwhile memories and a natural raconteur <br>out of me.</p>
