My life had always bordered on the wild side and all the more during festivals, especially the ones that leave a lot of scope to unleash your suppressed instincts. Err, for example, HOLI!!
While in Calcutta, even as a teenager, even under the strict eyes of my parents I managed to make a vision out of myself, and it wasn’t pretty (to put it mildly). I used to hang around with the most questionable characters, who possessed the most vile colours and the most creatively insane ideas… I loved Holi and I still recall those glory days when you are just discovering the alien species called “the opposite sex”, when you make a big deal out of little touches and “accidental brushes” and then suddenly holi gives you all the license to get crazy! It was innocent, it was fun and yet, it was exciting!
Then in Bombay when I was in my “mature” phase, and Holi no longer as exhilarating as it used to be, I never had an option! In a hostel, usually you don’t have one! You are expected to be as uncivil as the rest of them and if you don’t live up to the expectations, you are dragged into it until you are as bad (or worse) than anybody else.
But today we celebrated holi like we have never done before. In B schools you tend to get carried away with whatever you do but today it was nothing short of madness. Like take my example: first I was pasted all over with yellow gulal, then by some extremely stubborn colour which is still painted on me like cheap make up, then I was dumped on a flower bed, and then the grand finale: being carried and dropped on a mudpile and kicked all over until I tasted the true mudcake (believe me it’s nothing like the yummy dessert served at Lemon Tree). I had layers of dirt all over me, my hair dripped with all kinds of muck and as I headed towards the hostel, I could see people point and laugh! Everybody looked so hideously colourful that you had to stare at them to make out who they are, and every time the morons had to creep behind your back and scare the hell out of you. The guys had a raw deal as they were stripped off their shirts apart from the regular ritual of torture! But in spite of all the filth, clogged bathrooms, hours of struggling with different cleaning agents, it was fun and quite an experience that I will remember for a long time!