Read #1 book on Hinduism and enhance your understanding of ancient Indian history.
Read #1 book on Hinduism and enhance your understanding of ancient Indian history.

Vidhi Nagpal

Abstract Fantasy Others


4.8  

Vidhi Nagpal

Abstract Fantasy Others


Memories that colour our Soul

Memories that colour our Soul

3 mins 406 3 mins 406

Every year Holi has been the same. Yet every year Holi has been memorable and that's what matters! A week before Holi, we would carry packets of colours and water balloons to school just to play in the school bus on our way home. It always felt like smuggling a mobile phone to school and keeping an eye on the bag so that no one finds out.


 The entire day would be filled with the anxiousness of being caught by the teacher. Oh the suspense of it all! By the end of the day we rushed to the water cooler to fill up our bottles for attaining the ‘ultimate level of messiness.’ Finally in the bus, everyone shoved their bags in the front seats so as to not get their books wet .Then the real fun began. Everyday until Holi, we went home drenched in coloured water.


 When finally the much awaited day arrived, we would be up before dawn waiting eagerly to go out and have the time of our lives.Our mums smeared us in oil, from the roots of our hair to the tip of our toes to protect us from colour stains. But no matter how hard they tried, we still looked like a bunch of tinted ogres. Eventually, each one of my friends gathered in the building compound. To us, playing Holi seemed so much fun, but to outsiders, we appeared to be barbarians.


 Our building barely had around 5 kids and no fancy celebration but nearby buildings had DJs and water sprinklers. So we danced to the tune of “rang barse” and splotched different colours on each other’s cheeks. I remember having competitions with my friends to see how powerful our water guns were. Come on! Our guns had to be fit for wars, we needed the strongest ones.


As we grew older, we formed inter-building groups and challenged other kids. Hiding behind cars to dodge rivals, having ammunation (water balloons) stocked up, attacking the other teams from the back and running for our lives. Yes, lives. It was basically a Bollywood movie! The dedication and concentration we put into this game was incomparable.


At some point in time, we also fought for “gujiyas” made by one of our beloved aunts. Eventually every kid got one, but we fought just in case there weren't enough left. We’re not crackheads, you know? 


 After the year 2013, when ‘yeh javaani hai deewani’ was released, every single soul wanted to be either Bunny or Naina. One could even see them dance to impress their crush! But every coin has two sides. Our colony had people who played dirty. Throwing eggs and oil paints at people and turning them into stink bombs was never fun.


 It was always a delight to see grown-ups go crazy while high on bhang. They would shout “BAM BAM BHOLE'' in the streets as if they were holy sages from the cold, snow-capped regions of the Himalayas.


 There were groups of friends that would throw one of themselves, usually the skinny, weak guy, into a disgusting puddle of water contaminated with colours and dirt. There were also students who wished to go out and play, but they were busy studying for the boards, while their moms danced on their heads and their dads constantly read out the marks of Sharma ji’s son like one of the fake UNESCO whatsapp forwards. Well, how is someone supposed to study when the whole outside world is singing ‘balam pichkari’ on the top of their lungs, anyway?


  This year, on the other hand, won't be the same, no gatherings, no dance parties, no throwing friends in gross water, no acting out like Bollywood characters and no ‘aunty ke gujiyas!’ Sounds depressing, doesn't it? Well, let's all cooperate a little this year so that next year we can all go back to creating memories for a lifetime.


Bam Bam Bhole!


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