I saw myself with my parents and sister, all dressed up for a party and walking into this large hall with few long tables neatly covered with red cloth, in the center and chairs all around the hall, by the walls. Few families were there but clearly all the men were higher officials. Although I felt out of place among them, I did feel after a while that I was smarter than many there.
The ambiance was great. The grand hall was well lit; there was a chandelier in the center, I guess. The big silver wares for each food dish and the cutlery felt upper class. One side of the hall had a small door that led straight to the kitchen, the other door led to the bar. The opposite side of the hall had a small lobby which faced the glass door that led straight to a green and well lit park, with fountain and grass and flowers and shrubs, and benches to sit on. All the kids were playing outside in the park when we entered the grand hall.
While in line for dinner, I filled my plate completely. For some more space, I took another plate, a smaller one and put the dessert, gulab jamun, into it. I smiled as I managed to put the gulab jamun into the smaller plate I was holding with my left hand. I then thought, how's this possible. I looked behind my back at others who were staring at me. I looked down and saw the main plate with all the food fallen on the carpeted floor. I was expecting lots of food on the carpet and my shoes but there wasn't food at all, only that big white plate, unbroken. I silently had my dessert, then helped serve the other dessert, which looked like gulab jamuns, but were oblong in shape.
Later at home, I was frustrated for not being able to even take care of my plate of food. My mother consoled me and said she'd make something for me, but I asked her not to bother.
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