Chromatic hues of spring

Born in the land of festivities but brought up much like royalty who didn’t partake in the little euphoric moments of life and who dismissed the casual, carefree and somehow effervescent existence of common man as the lack of civility– that was I, one who was far too ‘prim n proper',one who was debonairly. Almost nineteen years of living life this way and being tagged ‘Monica’ somewhere down the lane for the extreme case of compulsive obsessive disorder that I do apparently ‘suffer’ from but never once did I imagine myself to be any different – not until today, the jovial, vivacious and insouciant day of the spring festival celebrated to mark the end of dark and demonic forces by burning effigies on the one hand and the smearing of coloured powder topped by water being thrown on one another – Holi.

Much opposed to the idea of ‘playing’ holi, the prospect of taking a day off and going somewhere else, somewhere where I wouldn’t be targeted (for that I definitely was!) was playing in the back of my mind. But, unfortunately, circumstances commanded me to stay, and so I did, fearing for dear life. With immeasurable persuasion and substantial coaxing, I did finally go out there.

And my, oh my! The array of colours that shrouded everyone did indeed scare me. (The only thoughts that ran through my mind at that very precise moment were of the chemical content of those colours and how hard it would be to clean up!) Once you are out there, there is no escape route. Initially filled with inhibitions, I did resist. But somehow, the element of fun couldn’t be ignored and then was when I did loosen up. With countless colours smeared on my face creating a bizarre shade that was spectral and uniquely reminded me of the grinch when I took a closer look in the mirror, drenched in a few buckets of water, a strangely content heart and half an hour later, I returned, realizing two things – one, it is ok to let go and two, it is never too late.

Here I am, it’s been a few hours, and I have expended great efforts on scrubbing, and yet, I still have a tinge of the pink gulal on my face and my fingers glare at me with the shade as I type. At the end of it all, it definitely was a day to remember (my first holi!), a day to bring alive the chromatic hues that paint the days of spring.