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.
 |
| COLONY VIEW |
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.
