Notes from an almost-empty-nester
I woke up yesterday morning to much activity in the kitchen. H and N were making pancakes, well mostly N.
This past week has been a tough one. Both N and I went down with a bout of viral fever, followed by a persistent rash and then a lingering joint pain. As it turned out, it wasn’t viral at all but a mild version of one of the mosquito diseases.
Continue reading “And so the festive season begins”Either that thought has you jumping out of your chairs, readying your colour and pichkari and deciding your strategy or it has you scrambling to look for a safe place till it’s the day after.
I am a bit of both. Half my friends know the truth – That I’m s*** scared of Holi. The other half think I’m this fearless Holi player just because they see me each year drenched in multicoloured hues. Should the two groups meet, they’d never agree they’re talking about the same person.
This post is for Type 2 people – the ones who desperately look for an invisibility cloak to get through the Holi madness. There’s something about the Holi spirit that imbues the riotous revellers with much too much courage. That very forbidding expression you have – the one that says “I’m way above this juvenile stuff”? Well put it away – it won’t work. Believe me. I’ve tried it.
If you are the non-social variety you have hope. Find a safe place, preferably on some haunted, desolate, deserted island, horde those gujhiyas and hide away till the day is through.
However, if your friends are anything like mine they’ll probably be planning to dig you out just as assiduously as you’re planning to hide away. To begin with, dip yourself in colour before you step onto the battle field. Yeah quash the spirit of Adrian Monk and do it yourself because if you don’t, someone else certainly will. Once on the field remember Never let your guard down. Read on now for five valuable tips:
1. Scared? Who? Me? Nah!!
Bluff your way through. Pretend to be all gung ho about the whole thing. Each time the topic comes up chime in enthusiastically, “Yay! It’s Holi” even while your heart gives a lurch at the H word. Put on a careless, daredevil look and throw out a challenge or two. “Hah! This time I’m not letting you get away”. Once you’ve established your credentials and are no longer on the ‘hit list’ slink away quietly through the proverbial ‘patli gali’.
Caution: Don’t overdo the bravado. Steer clear of the biggies (You’ll know them by the mad glean of excitement in their colour crazed eyes). Pick out the scared ones (Oh you’ll smell them out, after all they’re just like you).
2.Get Your Shields in place
If you’re a mum you have a readymade shield – the kids. Deflect the attention to them. Keep an eye out for the assailant AT ALL TIMES. Just as he/she closes in put on your most loving look, position yourself carefully behind your little one and pretend to be engrossed in helping him/her fill out the water gun. (Do not get REALLY engrossed, okay? This is war, you need your wits about you, woman.) A look at that moving montage might for one, gentle out the attackers and two, the kids are craving it all anyway. They loooove the mess – the water, the colour – the dirtier the better.
Caution: Don’t overestimate your safety. You’re just as safe as an 80 kg person can be behind a 20 kg person. Twins, that way are handy – double protection, you see.
3. Lie and Bribe
Participate in the preliminary round and just when things are hotting up and the dread in your heart starts to rise, put on your most serious expression and say,”I wish I could stay but my kid, is asthamatic. You know na how it is?? I need to go dry him out”. Believe me, no one will stop you. What? That’s a lie. Soooooo? This is war remember? And all’s fair.
Caution: This is a tricky one since it depends on the cooperation of children who at such times never rise to the occasion and might suddenly refuse to go along with you. Keep a bribe handy.
4. The Photographer
Carry an expensive looking camera. “Looking” being the keyword. Or simply whip out your phone and declare yourself the official photographer. Each time an assailant approaches ward him off with, “Aww you look lovely… Give me a smile. Watch out for your pictures on facebook.”
Caution: Use a dummy camera/phone. Keep the really expensive ones away from the battle field. The fanatics are not to be trusted.
5. The Foodkeeper
Become the official food supplier. Make sure you go for the preliminary rounds which are often gentler and get yourself suitably coloured, then stand behind the food counter or actively start handing out the samosas, gujhiyas and thandais. Who wants to mess their own food?
Caution: Make sure you disappear before the food does.
Distract, Deflect and Defend. If nothing works and you’re caught – well then, cross over to the enemy and Drench, Dunk and Douse.
Remember it’s Holi!!!
Bura Na Mano Holi Hai!
Knowing my children I hadn’t expected anything too sentimental but I certainly had expected them to talk about the spirit of the festival. I was sorely disappointed.
When we were kids rakhshabandhan meant posting the rakhis to our cousins a week in advance and that was that. Even on the rare occasions we were together with our cousins, getting something from them was a total no. In fact gifts were never related to occasions – not even birthdays. Rakshabandhan – definitely not. When the girls at school would discuss their rakhi ‘spoils’ laughingly asking each other, “Kitni kamayi hui?” I’d look on with wonder and, I have to admit, some envy too.
However over the years the message became only too firmly ingrained – rakshabandhan was about handmade rakhis, formal clothes, roli and tika maybe even laddoos and kaju katlis but that was it.
When H and N came along the festival finally found a home with us and became something we all looked forward to. So secure was I in my belief that the kids would imbibe its true spirit by default, that I made no effort to reinforce it for them. Worse, I saw no harm in small gifts because I thought that would make the day ‘perfect’. It is tough to resist those super happy smiles on their faces.
How wrong was I. Of course the gifts brought smiles, but that was a temporary, fleeting happiness at the cost of something far more precious. Instead of celebrating their very special bond, what remained of the festival in their minds, was the gift and the eating out.
 |
| Hrit’s the artist here… |
 |
| … and this is Naisha’s. I was wondering why Ram would wink at Ravana just before killing him. But apparently he’s taking aim. |
I hardly observed half of all these festivals before Hrit and Naisha came along. Now we end up partying at every occasion.
I’m terribly behind in reporting on all the celebrations and so I begin with Janamashtami. Naisha being a very very devoted Krishna bhakt decided I wasn’t doing enough to mark the occasion and took it upon herself to invite her freinds home. Typically, she ‘forgot’ to let me know.
When the girls dropped in ready for puja I was caught unawares. Mercifully, I had little to do except get them some flowers and make prasad. With my limited cooking skills I settled for suji halwa, though the girls were game to make do with plain sugar!
They made a temple..
 |
| Krishna’s birthday gift was a new ‘flute’ since he’d lost his old one. |
Then they dressed up as Radha. Of course all of them were Radha. Naisha got out all her jewellery and the girls had their pick.
 |
| Naisha, the sari veteran, lending a helping hand. |
One look at all this dressing up and the boys disappeared for a game of angry birds.
However when they heard the music and the dhols..
…they couldn’t keep away and brought out their own musical instruments.
After that things got a bit out of hand and decibel levels turned dangerously high.
The Husband got back early from office and was taken aback at this unexpected festivity. Much like the boys, he disappeared behind his laptop with his cup of tea and a bowl of prasad (forgetting his diabetes!), bedroom door firmly shut. Even the dhols couldn’t entice him out.
That was Janamashtami. I’m sure Krishna would have been pleased.
Stay tuned people, I-Day coming up next.