The missing DJ and the cover up

2001. Am starting to sweat. It's about 8 pm. The guests have arrived in the function hall. The food is being served. My manager has already been to my office some five times. I have been on the phone some ten times. The clamour from the guests was just about starting to happen. Where's the DJ? DJ. The guy who stands in the console. He puts in the CDs and the vinyl and music happens in the discotheque in front. Then people dance. That DJ had reported that he was on the way. From where, I didn't know. But somewhere in the city. City being Kolkata. Frankly, Kolkata and the area that we were situated in is not very difficult to arrive at. Car. Bus. Metro. Whatever. 30 to 40 minutes tops. But here he was, being Mr. India for over an hour from scheduled arrival. I stood behind the console and wanted something good to happen. I boxed the wall. My fist hurt. No, hurting oneself wasn't going to do any good. Something more creative as a solution, please. We had a few CDs in stock. Gleaned from a few DJs who had wanted to go home early and had just left some mixes with us. I could play them but people are unique in India. They wanted to see a DJ, show their love for him as they danced. So, needed someone in there. Okay, enough was enough. Called the electrician. Put on the console. He did. Some yays happened in the assembled crowd. They thought that the imminent arrival of the DJ should be celebrated with yells. I had pulled off my coat and tie. My white shirt was conspicuous but it would have to do. I could happily pull off through 10-11 numbers. Safe songs that people would always dance to. But a couple of them knew I was the hotel management too. So, I decided to be honest when the time came. The console was ready. I stepped in. Told the electrician to be around just in case I fouled up. He told me that here's where you insert your first CD and select the song to play. Not much Ado. I had in mind what could bring the crowd alive. Get them going without worrying too much about me. Koi kahe from Dil Chahta hai. The host of the party and his brother were trying to make their way to the console when the song came on and the people erupted and there was no way they could make it anymore. The floor shook as people jumped their hearts out. I had to keep up the tempo. So, the last line reduced at one end and I flipped the next CD on, the song selection in place. Made in India by Alisha The crowd roared and the floor reverberated. The hosts we're still not able to make their way to the console. They had paid for a DJ and here I was, substituting. Normally, here's where DJs yell to the crowd, "are you guys enjoying" or something like that. I couldn't do that. The host and his cohorts could beat me up. But the floor was shaking and it would be weird for them to pick a fight with me then. The hosts could not be the party poopers. My next selection came along. Rangeela re from Rangeela. The wild crowd went wilder as they did the trademark moves from the Urmila Matondkar film. I sent the electrician to see if the DJ had arrived. He hadn't. The time was near. As the song came to a finish, I spoke into the mike, "People, Good evening, our DJ has taken a flight from Ballygunge and is scheduled to airdrop into this place in some time, so we need to welcome him with some thunder. What say?" The people were far into the scheme of things to even worry about the impending problem if the guy never arrived. I didn't give them much time as I swung into Punjabi beats with.. Chak de by Apache Indian. I carried on for another seven or eight numbers before our man of the night finally arrived. It seems he had some flat tire issues. I had noted down the numbers that I already had played. Told all of that to the guy. He took over. The evening went on. The crowd delirious. An hour later, back in my hotel attire, I was having a last look at the buffet before leaving for the day. The host made his way to me. "Boss, when you first got into the console I wanted to murder you but when the DJ came in later and you left it to him, I thought you were killing it in there. You saved the day." Hoteliers are like that. They save days. You may just know about the guys in Taj Mumbai who took bullets for the guests back in 2009.