bhaanged!

Saturday was Holi. Another year. But a new house. Same colours. And as luck would have it, a similar crowd going wild, to look down on, from the balcony. And watched I did, like every year. This time from my 8th floor balcony.

The building provided the colours, which you could smear liberally on your sizzling neighbour and whoever you fancy. The building also got a DJ to churn out the lastest chartbusters while you wildly shook every managable part of your body. The building then put sprinklers all around the "dance floor", to drench every Eve and Adam. And true colours were revealed.

The shy wife, who hardly talks, was gyrating sensuously. The mother-in-law tied her dupatta around her waist and did a powerful garba-like tandav. The pot bellied men tried shaking themselves in the name of dance. Several groups of guys and girls, dancing fast and close with their now-wet-and-see-through attires. It was difficult to make out such a motley crowd, painted beyond recognition, from such a height.

Now the best part was, the kind building put up a buffet too, where dosawalas furiously flattened dosas, bhajias were fried in a massive kadai, pani punis were dished out... and god knows what. What the building did not provide was alcohol and forbade anyone to even drink it there. The hubby was dying to go grab a bite but even for him the price was too high to pay. Colour on your face, hair, ears, nose, eyes and then wet to the skin. Not worth it.

So we readied to leave for the friend's party. Hubby neatly wore his festive best and warned me against wearing anything nice lest someone hurls colour on me and I would be finding another excuse to buy new clothes, so he said!

From the moment I entered I pitched myself next to the food and kept eating and drinking. A few people were talking and laughing too much and I saw a few dead asleep in the bedrooms. Effects of bhaang, hmm... I settled for vodka. Safer. Amidst hot malpuas and cheer, I didn't realised when I was pressed with a glass of thandai, with bhaang of course. Another glass. And soon I was in seventh heaven. But I didn't sleep. The others did.

The hosts' kid, a little monster, innocently asked, "why do people come and sleep on Holi?"

This is the kind of Holi I like. Fun, food and friends. And I would definitely like to forget the time I was dunked in a little pool. It frightened the hell out of me. I hated it when my parents' friends came over on Holi and attacked them with dreadful colours. It troubled me no end. The helplessness of my mother as she ran, covering her face. Maybe I suffer an aversion towards Holi since then.

But Holi being a holi-day, I have always welcomed it with open arms. And bhaang made it so much better this time. I am already looking forward to next year!

theatrically speaking

Now that I think of it, it's been ages since I got into a theatre to watch a movie. The last was... Black. Since a long time now, movie watching has been limited to the DVD, running for the big sofa, before hubby takes it, and stuffing myself mindlessly with junk food. Again calling out for refills, with sweet endearments to sucker hubby, who smiles or grumbles as is his mood and still gets it.

And there was a time, I was one of the first-day-first-show types. I knew all the "blackers" (touts who illegally sell the same tickets at exorbitant rates) at all the theatres in town. The moment they saw me, they would smile and come over with tickets. At times, with various friends, I have watched 4 shows back to back in a day. In the night, we would totter back, groggy eyed, grinning to ourselves.

After I met the hubby, there was hardly a movie I went for without him. It wasn't planned that way, but he conveniently came along every time. I was glad to have found someone who shared my love for eating in the theatre and ran to buy loads of food to munch on. While I sat in anticipation. I don't like to move from my seat even during intermission, unless it's to go to the loo.

I guess, this state of absence from the theatres now, could be attributed to cruel hubby thinking it's a total waste of money and time, taking me. Actually the routine was turning like this. We rush in, usually during or after the national anthem is over. Stumble and knock on sharp seat edges... I make my demands for pop corn and other delectable items. If they get over before intermission I take a quick nap till lights come on and people look around. After more food and drinks comsumed, I snooze off again. Hubby keeps poking me at intervals and keeps threatening "This is the last time. I am never getting you again!"

I open my eyes. "Yeah...? Is it over? What happened?" and go back to sleep again. I was actually getting addicted to sleeping in theatres. It's a wonderful feeling especially during long Hindi movies. The heavy stomach induced blissful state of lightheaded sleepiness in the dark. The better the theatres are getting, the higger the tickets cost, the better the food available, the more comfortable seats are, the more easily I doze off. Who can blame me? Could never take too much of a good thing.

Due to which I innocently tell everyone about not watching certain movies when asked by people and look at hubby suspiciously when he claims to have seen and enjoyed them. I hope he's not watching films with attentive and repulsed-by-food nymphets, and claiming to have gone with me where I slept and forgot all about it. Must instill in him the fear of the Divine, if nothing else. "God is watching you."

I think it's time to go for a theatre movie before I get scared of dark halls and big screens. Above all, I am really missing the food. Heard they have introduced whole meals too.

Sorry, I am fine.

I got a fright last week when I was told my sugar level looks high. I was immediately asked to undergo a test which required drawing blood every half an hour. After 8 samples, they thought it was enough and mercifully let me go.

I walloped in self pity thinking of my recently acquired sweet tooth. All those chocolates in the fridge... the pack of chocolate cream covered biscuits... that chocolate cake I just baked and the boxes of Pringles sitting on top of the fridge, waiting to be devoured... and what about the huge packets of potato smiles I stock up my fridge with... sigh! good bye food, good bye life...

And then the results came. Hubby looked at me. I looked at the sheet.

And my reaction, "Yippee! Yippee! Negative! No worries! Hakuna Matata!"

And my cruel hubby's reaction, "Ah! What a waste of money!"

Now I am not sure whether I should apologize for testing negative or for wasting money on testing! Bah!

Somewhere today, a father is wondering how the roles have been reversed. He is wondering how he will never have his elder son putting him to flames, on his final journey.

Because today, the father is lighting his son's pyre.

Somewhere, among his people, the father is feeling lost. For the loss of his dreams, the loss of a heir, the loss of a part of himself. He grieves beyond grief.

Somewhere, a mother is sitting in stony silence. A silence that is not good. She has cried, she has laughed, she has weeped again. She still does not believe. Her little boy is gone.

And life will never be the same ever again.

My angel

My cousin's kid is an angel.

Good looking, smart, polite to a fault, humble. A really nice kid. Period.

Got scholarships to 3 universities abroad. Chose London.

Was coming home on vacation. Stopped at Jaipur at his aunt's place. Also to finish some project work.

Drove out in aunt's car. Was hit badly by another car.

My cousin's kid died yesterday on the spot. Just 19.

He's an angel. God bless his soul.