Bura na mano Holi hai.

We NRIs are a sad lot. We spend half the year planning our visit to India and the remaining half talking about it on return.
And whenever there is a festival back home we are misty eyed.
But holi is something I can never get lachrymose about.

Probably its been over 15 years that I have played Holi. And I don’t ever miss it at all!
Perhaps I have spent more holis hiding in my room than playing!

Holi looks good in movies with a Rajesh Khanna or a Dharmendra sprinkling rainbow colors on the blushing heroine. Its all romance and no dirt. Wonder where has that romance gone? I hardly see any movie with a Holi song these days. But then I hardly get to see a movie!
You felt a thousand roses blooming in your heart as you watch them.

In reality , up in North its much more hardcore than that! There are no blushing heroines.
In Mathura instead , the women beat the men with sticks and rolling pins.(Ok granted.The rolling pins are my imagination. :).
Now what could be romantic about that!

I remember the one time when varnish and paint was applied on me and my own dog bonny wouldn’t allow me in. I had developed an allergy which kept my cheeks red with rashes for weeks.

Then the other problem is that I am by nature a very accident prone character. I don’t get into accidents. I make them happen.

I once walked into a glass window in a bakery in Trimulgherry in Hyderabad and got my nose smashed.(Ask the people who go there how clean the windows are) When the usher came running I sheepishly complimented him on his glass polishing skills. Another time I walked into a column while looking back and talking to someone. And had a bloody ear.

I remember one Holi each one of the guys were being thrown into a water tank by a bunch of ruffians who posed to be my friends, and when it was my turn sure enough I hit the side of the tank my tail bone bruised. Now if you guys are wondering, not only monkeys have tail bones!

I had to sit on a rubber ring for a fortnight with a lot of jokes thrown in.

Bhang, that psychotropic flagship of a holi revelery wasn’t my cup of tea. Or my glass of thandai!!!!!
I shudder to think of that one time when I was up on the tree like a monkey and afraid to step down. I decided never to touch it again.
Guys never touch bhang. specially if you are having an illicit affair.
remember what happened to Amitabh Bachan in " Rang barse ...

My Mom , like everyone's mom I am sure , was a great cook. Her party , to me, was the saving grace. At the end of all the revelry my friends used to come to my house looking like and eating like hogs countless plates of potato fritters , gujiyas and sev. She happily supervised as plates after plates were polished. She loved feeding. Honestly she did.

Alas! Today she is no more.

Holi would never be the same with out her.

Happy Holi guys. Enjoy yourself. Glad I am not there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!