Let my INK SPLASH

                The flights took off and finally their hip-hops took a stop as the ausies leave our country. “Happy journey friends”. Am I too aggressive and excited??? May be, but now I’m a grown up and I just kicked on their white faces who snatched the CUP from me in 2003. The day when our DADA (Ganguly) got sad, the day when the criticisms on my innocent captain got mad- so this aggro of mine is rightly justified. Although I could not stab my close friend's (Pointing) dream of stopping our MASTER (Sachin) from scoring 100 but I did made his century suite well the smells of dustbin. My master did his job by laughing well on the sweet spells Lee-Tait-Jhonson to add taste to India's victory and that was well enough from his side. All right, I should say "NICE tragic hero (to pointing) but we chased well J".

Sad but still a painful truth of India's victory is my captain's swinging bat. Yeah! his strategies work but where is the fire from his hand??? Is the 10 glass full milk, that he used to drink daily, being spent somewhere else??? God knows!  But he does prove the everlasting Indian Cricket theory- "SMILE PLEASE! for you are a hero- ‘until’ you are married" His hands now have ego as they want the ball to come and kiss them while they sleep close to his body. And his bat? emmmm...well it merely swings madly to play the dust in air and not the ball. Yuvi is my hero now, who hung in there for last 365days with patience to gather all his energy for WC-2011. He struggled badly with his form during last year, lost all his fans and yes the camera lens too. And now the Punjab king is playing the role of saviour in every match for India on the WC stage, surely his female fans are now kissing his posters back, for sure (& thank god! he's not married yet J). The Indian squad has first time proved they to fit for the world champions title in the row of matches played so far. Although we pushed the defending champions out of the line but some hot bloods like Gambhir have to look on their energy meter that shows spikes when not needed in the field. Why he's always in a hurry to run on the pitch???

I won't show any bad sign through my fingers, for now, to my chums (I can't criticize them in public) who always support the other team facing India as for now. Reason??? The CUP is still two big matches away wherein the first one will be challenged by our neighbours (Afridi's boys) and later by another bigwig too. But I do want to bang the table loud to pierce their diaphragms by holding the 27years old Indian dream- Cricket World Cup.

Fear is well defined for each one of us & so for me. You may use the word ‘pseudo’ to describe mine but I won’t. You read the title and must have guessed it- I am a victim of Holi-phobia. It has been since I recognised I my diapers. Shrieking & peeing coyly on the colour holding intruder used to be my weapon when I was smaller than a child. Hands of clock kept rolling and I grew up holding my bat in my hand- my new weapon for the enemies. Moreover, my trials to preach them that putting colours on oneself is worthless always drowned in the pool of vain.

The day this festival comes, my genie shivers like rattle-snake’s tail (No, do not ask me ‘why’). Even the behaviour of my relatives takes a churlish look and they all grin in my face. Obviously it then gets tough to swing bat in air because their true identity hides under ugly face' black/red finish (YUK!). So, being modest enough I hold a defend strategy and have to take shelter in bathroom. Big bangs on the door or a high pitched scolding from my father; neither of them can shake my belief- I HATE HOLI.

I do appreciate PRAHLAAD’s effort of slaying down the dark forces but whose effort was to enjoy this with nasty colours???

I have turned into a grown up but my dislike for this day sustains. However now they expect me to be sensible and ‘so I am’ J- instead of lifting my bat, I prefer taking bath early in the morning. I put on expensive clothes from my trunk and so no one even eyes on me. Although this action leaves a tag on my head (from my kith & kin’s) - ‘cretin’; I don’t mind it (hehe...). Rather it’s sweet of them because the tag that my chums put on me contain words not to be spoken of here (stop thinking).

My appeal today is still the same- why to colour yourself and then try hard to remove them slogging for hours inside under water- complete wastage of natural resource and time.

Is going home always delightful? The answer to the same erupted in a most horrible way to me during this holi vacation. Need not mention, it was like fleeing from all college worries but unfortunately there was no direct bus to my home town Renukoot. So I took the one that was ready to drop me about 50kms behind at Chopan. I took a place near the end of a seat and one not beside a window as the rough wind would dangle my hairs- disturbing for my profile look. I felt like am on a religious tour as the primary constituents of the vehicle were all senior citizens. Not even a single young pretty girl around to disturb my hormonesL. No more choices left- I finally tucked in my head phones to feed in some music inside me. Travelling in these roadways buses during festive periods of the year will surely remind you of ‘Kumbh Mela’ (a hindu festival) as you are bound to hear the chit-chats of the chaos breathing loudly all around you. And it is then you notice that you should have spent some more to buy a high volume music phone.

My journey takes a break at Mirzapur- a stop to appease the thirsty bus engine and the thirsty travellers too. It was then I found that I forget to make my purse heavy before sprinting from the hostel. And thus I was ‘unable’ to eat. The clock winked at me saying 8 p.m. & I’d reach home not later than 12 a.m.- so not to worry much. My belly then decided to relax and remain unconcerned for the cries of the mice within it. At this point of time it is important to mention that ‘I am not frugal’ (for a girl who reads this ;)). Journey continues and some new members of the bus replace the old ones. The yellow eyes of the government vehicle kept itself busy in hunting down for the obstacles around the corners while the driver alarms them through the monotonic horn- an aversion for me. The road appeared strange and spooky as it revealed itself amidst the dark atmosphere. It was strangely calm all around.

9:30pm suddenly I felt like the bus shifted in a frenzy state and it came right when my ears noticed the long high pitch cry of the engine. It was a sleaze stop for all of us. The tube carrying water to the radiator burst out and white smoke from the engine dressed the air then. Call of driver to get out of bus and now we were on the roads. As no water was lying in vicinity the conductor asked the head-station at Mirzapur to send another one. Meanwhile, the ramshackle driver was gifted with all the nonsense advices from the mob. Although I am an engineering student but not yet learnt to calm down an angry mob with my worthy scientific reasons. All they demanded of was to reach home even at the cost of being exploded. The driver was continuously molested to drive the bus slowly till the next stop- drama lasted for about 3hrs.

12 a.m. I thank God for not displaying a mercy killing of the driver :D. Another bus arrived and people jumped at ots opening without giving a thought to the pain they were supplying to others. It was getting more tiresome.

4 a.m. Chopan, the 2^nd last stop, welcomed me with just one street light and a cold breeze. Half an hour swept away and since last afternoon no food in my belly. As the chilling air kept sucking the left over heat a bolero speeding away took a time to care for this teenager. I am not a hitchhiker so am not well aware of the meetings with strangers and so the uncle inside with long beards appeared a lot pesky to my mind. But when you sense the happiness of home food closing in it is worth giving such freaky guy a company. Finally I was in Renukoot when my clock punched me shouting 6 a.m. i just dozed off on bed at home. “What a delightful journey”

You sit and study during exams- you are gonna get loads of thoughts to write on but when your exams get over they run far away leaving no traces that could be used to find them. L but while playing a game I got a call from my sis and so one of the thought came. Go on take a taste of it!

Sis:  “ Slow down the volume of T.V please!”

Me: ”Why? I won’t, its my favourite cartoon, hunh :@”

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Sis: “Hey don’t read loudly, you can study that even in your mind”

Me: “Maybe, but i can’t concentrate fully on the matter while doing that :>”

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Me: “Di, make something delicious naa...”

Sis: (maa not at home) “Eat whatever I make, I have to study also.”

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Do you like to share something with your sis??? Truly speaking I don’t. What? Don’t frown at me, why should I share my cookie with her when maa made for both of us (although she gave the bigger one to me), why should I hand over the remote whenever she demands (can’t she watch cartoons- they are so coooooooool) and why should I be the one to hear scolding from father although she pulled my legs in first place?

The sole answer- She is my elder Sister. Three years age difference costs so much was something I always mull over.  My sister’s name is Akanksha and it does suits her because she has loads of them. I see her face like an onion in an upright orientation; God knows how come my relatives associate the adjective ‘pretty’ with her. Long hairs, height shorter than me :D and an attitude like a princess are the words that I would couple her with. As far as I remember we fought since I started thinking about my rights at home. When you are the smaller one you have to keep a close eye on your assets because the bigger ones, around you, don’t preach humanity. Be it a new pencil box, a new pen or a bag of sweets; you have to be ready to look more innocent and lively to increase your luxury. And that used to be my master plan:> ALWAYS.

The clock continued its journey as we grew up and we were seeking to become friends. Sis used to tech me maths and English- a push to my playing time space as homework was done ahead with her help. Thereafter I felt that she is not so bad, I mean she is the one with whom I can play cricket while being at home (ya we used to do that) or whom I can ask for help when maa was ready to shout at me for my mistakes. When you are a child you are the biggest risk taker; no worries of being caught in the court of parents while committing a perjury- for me sis stands as my advocate J

We used to study in same school- Nirmala Convent High School, Renukoot and she 3 classes ahead of me as usual. Sad part of my life; as I had to be limited with the old books left over by her. “Take a rubber and erase the write ups, no need of new books”- the same speech by father when results were out after every exam. But one thing I am proud of :D is sis was always asked to take a leaf out of my book as I scored higher than her.

Hmmm...don’t know why but...I used to feel sad for her sometimes. I started growing up, as I noticed and sympathy started to find room in my mind. You have to pay back to the advocate but in our case I was too selfish. I realised- getting food in absence of maa is more than enough instead of crying for delicious treats. And how I turned into a loner when she went to college- a pathetic side of this story. Times when you have to manage all your studies on your own, when no one stops you from reading loudly, when no one is their to snatch sweets from, when no one is their to play pranks on...it does transforms you into a loner and asks you to prepare yourself for the future. A future where the world shouts “Be Independent” all the time and where the emotions start losing their sweet rhymes.

Now I am in a college and sis is also studying in one, we both away from home. Now we focus more on our carrier than on our fights but I want all of these to be mere myths. Being a child is always enjoyable than being a stupid (everyone is) grown up. I won’t say this ever to her ”My sis is the best one” (cos she will definitely hug me then) but I would definitely break the silence by shouting “Hey didi” whenever I earn a glance of her.

Oh yes! please take your frown back because now I define the word share by giving her one complete cookie of mine (although she doesn’t takes it J )