(unholi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

My house today looks like a fortress under siege. All the gates are locked, the calling bell disconnected and the doors bolted and under lock and key from inside. We are well prepared for not playing holi or to ensure that holi is not played with us.


I am a colourful person alright. But I don’t want to look colourful from the outside with streaks of gulal of various hues on my face that would make me wonder who is the stranger on the other side of the mirror.


There is a Holi Milan in my colony where I have never been seen. People are so tired of my absence that every year they send a colourful invitation card only to my wife and daughter who too make it a point to be absent at the function. But strangely, the organizers remain unshakably optimistic, hoping that the two would make the mistake of dropping in at least once.


People have tried to lure the foodie dormant in me to attend such functions with promise of gujiyas, pakodas and thandai with or without bhang. But I am unmoved. I love to tuck into those goodies but if the price is getting colours all over me, or for the matter getting drenched, no thanks. I likie my holi colourless and dry, dry not in the sense that i abstain from booze but from squirting water pistols and pichkaris (pumps) and guard myuself from flying water balloons.


Sigh it was not always like this There was a time I used to love holi. Used to go around armed with water pistols, sprays and balloons during my school days even college days. It was fun particularly once when I sat down for a holi meal at a friend’s place gulping down glasses of thandai and tucking into pakodas and gujiyas but somehow I got the funny feeling that everyone was watching me strangely. That wasn’t even the real meal which followed with poori subzi and more sweets. And boy I gorged , stuffing myself upto gills with food but still had the funny feeling that people were looking at me oddly.


Then I was about to depart, my friend’s dad told me that my pal would put me in the bus. “ I know the bus stop and no need for you to trouble yourself”. The old man smiled. “ I know that you know the bus stop. But I doubt whether you would be able to find it now”. I didn’t react but my friend grabbed my arm and virtually dragged me out.


“Why is your dad is so worried about me?” I asked him on the way. “Do you know how many glasses of bhang-laced thandai and pakoras you stuffed yourself with?” he asked. The truth slowly penetrated my brain in a state of cannabis haze. “And you had no clue how many pooris you were eating. That is much better than a lot of guys who have a marathon laughing fit after a heavy dose of bhang” he said.


My dad grasped my condition when I reached home. “Bhang?” he asked. I nodded. “Just wash yourself and hit the bed. Don’t let mother suspect anything .She’d go ballistic She did just that when I arrived in your present state years ago” he said. I had a quick bath and hit the bed dozing off immediately. Mom later diagnosed my condition as gluttony, lucky for me.


But alas all that fun stopped after a few years. Holi became (un)holi. I was ambushed while going around , hurling water balloons on all and sundry .Some goons grabbed me and applied s some wierd paint all over my face. When I came home and looked in the mirror, I looked like Silver Surfer of Marvel Comics. It was silver paint and It took me three days to fulluy scrub it off with the help of whole lot of edible oils. I am sure there must have been a major oil shortage in the market after that.


As a socially aware citizen concerned over oil shortages, I decided to stop playing holi after that. But over the years I have seen how standards have fallen in Holi celebrations. I used to have a brass pichkari pump for playing holi that lasted for years. All you have to do is to change the washer once a year. Nowadays the pumps and water pistols last only for one holi and there are no washers in the market. Many people would probably think that washer is someone having a bath or cleaning his clothes.


Now the festival is nothing more than a day-long state of siege. People may call me a sissy but it is better to be sissy than to be sorry.

 

Viswa we need drconian environmen tal laws like those envorced by US environmental agency. But in India we treat anything with kid gloves that hs the stamp of religion, however barbaric and antediluvian it might be. Holi has unfortunately become an excuse for inappropriate behviour(This is a massive understatement) particularly with women.Touching and pawing them is expected to be tolerated under the guise of "Bhura n mano holi hai"(Don't mind fter all this is holi). I'll tell you how barbaric this is. Yesterdy a girl totally naked jumped 20 feet to escape revellers who had torn nd stripped her clothes. She is now in hospital and under counselling. Seriously, do we need this kind of revelry.?

 

My sentiments exctly. Good food yes. unbridled revelry no. chemicl colours, paints and wter balloons strict no no. The true spirit of cmerderie that is holi is dead. It lives now only in its shell occupied by the evil spirit of rowdyism.

 

Turmeric is good for skin unlike chemical colours which can cause serious allergies. I hope they haven't started celebrating holi imitating Kollywood movies. Already weddings down south re getting inspired by Bollywood with north Indian functions like ladies' sangeet and mehndi. I won't be surprised if holi isn't far behind.

 

.Don't be surprised if the groom comes riding a horse for the wedding. as in the north.