My most vivid memories of Holi comprise of scenes with me sitting shit-scared in my room and the room locked to keep my horrors out. Ever since i learnt about the festival, my relationship with Holi has been at best difficult. I have dreaded almost every single Holi, whether it be here in Delhi or the occasional ones I suffered outside Delhi. Today, I write this post well past 4 in the morning, the morning of Holi. I was supposed to strategise to keep out of harm's way this Holi, but i see myself brooding and capturing my thoughts here instead.
If i were to dig into the books of my personal history, there is no particular moment I could identify as the one that triggered this dread of Holi. As young as in class 3, I remember getting stressed about saving myself from the Holi celebrations at school. Luck would have it that Holi fell almost always in the middle of our final school exams, making it not feasible to take leave on the day when the celebrations were due. Hence, comprehensive plans were made, exit routes were checked and planned, strategies made. It was almost like a mini war for me-so much so that my strategies often involved beating the shit out of people who tried to color me. Luckily nobody got beaten, and more importantly, i never got seriously colored.
School was an outdoor war-ground; there was a battle planned on home turf as well. There were a number of people at home to be specially concerned about-my two aunts, specially the younger, more adventurous one, my maid who had been with us since the day i was born, and last but my no means the least scary, my colony friends. Such used to be the fear that I would religiously lock myself up on the first floor of the house. The planning was impeccable, with arrangements for food made in advance, with all the bolts on our gates assiduously inspected while also testing for the fail scenarios, with careful planning to attend to the nature's call and with deciding to not speak a word whenever someone suspicious knocked at the gate. My maid, my aunt, as well as my friends at the door were all left disappointed, but in their disappointment i found the greatest relief.
Till the day before Holi, I gave detailed instructions to my parents and grandparents. They were supposed to tell friends that I had gone out to play Holi - which, by the way, has to be the most hilarious and unbelievable thing they'd say on any Holi day. But, the people who swore to fight the battle on my side always seemed to flip allegiance on the Holi day. My father would come calling and say that a friend was at the gate, forgetting all the strategies and commands I had explained him the previous day. He would have the bizarre logic that the friend carried only Gulaal (a form of dry color, the lesser evil), not understanding that the tricks my friends could play were more devious that his most profound of imaginations and that it was all probably a trap to get me out in the open, where i could then be the target of heavy fire. Most of the times, i could not be convinced and the friends went home disappointed, something i did not mind at all. There was only once that a friend caught hold of me when he entered the house and smothered all my face with the Gulaal. It was definitely not something I liked, and gave me taste of how bad things might get one fine -or not so fine, actually - Holi.
So, here i am, all stressed and depressed. Holi is here and I am sure there is nothing productive i would do, since most of the energies would be spent to ensure that I am not colored. It would be a tough day. Lets hope I survive. There are two kinds of people in this world i could almost instantly fall in love with - first, the ones who would understand my fear of Holi and stand by to protect me from this shit at all costs, and second, the ones who know swimming and could teach me to swim in the sea, being my personal lifeguard when the tide gets tough. With regard to the latter type, I have already almost fallen in love with a blonde hair guy who held me firm and got me to dry ground, when i was snorkeling 30km off the coast of Karnataka.
Anways...to the ones who do happen to like this festival...a happy holi!
© Quasars Are Forever
If i were to dig into the books of my personal history, there is no particular moment I could identify as the one that triggered this dread of Holi. As young as in class 3, I remember getting stressed about saving myself from the Holi celebrations at school. Luck would have it that Holi fell almost always in the middle of our final school exams, making it not feasible to take leave on the day when the celebrations were due. Hence, comprehensive plans were made, exit routes were checked and planned, strategies made. It was almost like a mini war for me-so much so that my strategies often involved beating the shit out of people who tried to color me. Luckily nobody got beaten, and more importantly, i never got seriously colored.
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| What the fuck is this flower doing here!! |
Till the day before Holi, I gave detailed instructions to my parents and grandparents. They were supposed to tell friends that I had gone out to play Holi - which, by the way, has to be the most hilarious and unbelievable thing they'd say on any Holi day. But, the people who swore to fight the battle on my side always seemed to flip allegiance on the Holi day. My father would come calling and say that a friend was at the gate, forgetting all the strategies and commands I had explained him the previous day. He would have the bizarre logic that the friend carried only Gulaal (a form of dry color, the lesser evil), not understanding that the tricks my friends could play were more devious that his most profound of imaginations and that it was all probably a trap to get me out in the open, where i could then be the target of heavy fire. Most of the times, i could not be convinced and the friends went home disappointed, something i did not mind at all. There was only once that a friend caught hold of me when he entered the house and smothered all my face with the Gulaal. It was definitely not something I liked, and gave me taste of how bad things might get one fine -or not so fine, actually - Holi.
So, here i am, all stressed and depressed. Holi is here and I am sure there is nothing productive i would do, since most of the energies would be spent to ensure that I am not colored. It would be a tough day. Lets hope I survive. There are two kinds of people in this world i could almost instantly fall in love with - first, the ones who would understand my fear of Holi and stand by to protect me from this shit at all costs, and second, the ones who know swimming and could teach me to swim in the sea, being my personal lifeguard when the tide gets tough. With regard to the latter type, I have already almost fallen in love with a blonde hair guy who held me firm and got me to dry ground, when i was snorkeling 30km off the coast of Karnataka.
Anways...to the ones who do happen to like this festival...a happy holi!
© Quasars Are Forever
