Monday, 21 March 2016

Holi re holi

“Holi re holi “ I remember this song sung by many our heroines of the seventies and eighties bathing in a  Splash  of colours and singing. Certainly the festival of colours is symbolic of the warmth and exuberance of the North Indians.  The North Indians Joie de vivre is amazing.  The festivals celebrated by them have a charm of their own right from Bhaiyya dooj to Karva Chauth.  Though the festival  is celebrated both  by the young and the old it is more a festival of the young  as we need abundant energy.  Other than the tomboyishness of the festival it is a festival that kindles the spirit of love and camaradarie. The festival is celebrated when the whiff of summer is in the air.
I remember  celebrating Holi both at Delhi and Calcutta. One particular incident still remains in my heart though the years have gone by.  On the particular Holi day in the seventies my brother and I started stocking ourselves with balloons and Pichkaris. We filled the balloons with coloured water and inflated as many as possible.  Our older friends were there to hep us with conseil. We jumped from terrace to terrace  and hit our friends in the neighboring streets with our balloons. What pleasure to thump our friends with balloons and see the balloon  explode. The Pichkaris were also fun.  Seeing a rainbow of colours  and drenching our friends was a great joy. That particular Holi the adventure spirit in us seemed more than ever.  Influenced by our peers we went to the next  neighbourhood and started playing Holi. It was a fun and frolic with mob fury  and a maze of colours.  Our clothes were drenched and our cheeks and body red with Gulal. The aunties  had also admonished us with plenty of sweets.  When  three hours  had lapsed  we returned back with the crowd. Our parents were waiting anxiously at the doorstep.  My father was fuming  red and angry. He was waiting to have lunch and had the plate in his hand.  He was so mad at us that he brandished us with the plate till our bottoms were sore.  My mother stood by helpless  watching my father vent out his anger.  Than we were asked to rush to the bathroom  and remove the grease in  our cheeks and peel out our wet clothes.  We followed instructions not wanting to face our fathers wrath.  I remember that particular Holi with amusement.    

I'm pledging to #KhulKeKheloHoli this year by sharing my Holi memories at BlogAdda in association with Parachute Advansed.

Monday, 7 March 2016

Me and my Bro!

My brother and I have always shared a very special relationship. Much like the characters in the Mill and the Floss. A truly wonderful relationship of fun, laughter and adventure I remember extraordinary and innovative games that we used to play at childhood. Philately interested us and we had that most extraordinary collection of stamps. Though it was the seventies gender equality existed in our family and I grew up beside him tomboyishly. I played cricket and flew kites with him. We used to trek together, swim together and share an enormous passion for reading. Our parents used to gift us books which we both loved. We both grew up with the “Enid Blytons”, “The Hardy Boys“ and “The Nancy Drews”.
We loved the Classics too. Sibling rivalry existed . I remember our bull fights too. We still break into fits of laughter when I remember how I used to pumell him since he was more wiry than I. We used to laugh at my mother because she spoke broken hindi. Memories of us being gourmands and savouring food at the most wonderful restaurants. Of us donning the chef hat and cooking. When he went to study at Pilani I remember crying crocodile tears every time we left him at the station. Thus we shared a wonderful relationship of love intrigue and fun. My brother married for love a girl of his choice. He married and has now three wonderful kids. Though both of us have being married for the last twenty years we still share the same warmth and laughter. We catch up on phone calls which ring with peals of laughter. My brother has done well and become an extraordinary successful man. The relationship that we shared is still the same. When both of us meet there is warmth, a sense of humour and lots of good food. We exchange ideas. Both of us are proud of our kids as they have scaled heights and have grown up with similar values . When We visit him at his villa he makes us very comfortable with his bevy of servants. A rather fond uncle who takes the children to the most wonderful restaurants. Since the travel bug has taken him far and wide we like to hear extraordinary stories of his trips around the world. The children love to hear that he is fond of sushi. You need some kind of pluck to eat those crawling creatures. That’s my brother! The years have flown by but the magic of our relationship is still alive. Here is my message:

Note: Share your #MemoriesForLife like I’ve done at BlogAdda for HDFC Life.