Happy Holi

Deepawali

This beautiful work on Deepawali is by Bhagwati Sharan Srivastava "Sharan".



Previous Poem - Kaante Mat Bo

The Festival Of Lights

This is one festival which brings light in my eyes - literally. No other festival is more cherished, more awaited, better celebrated. Reasons are aplenty, but nothing more obvious than the fact that it is not a single festival, but rather a battery of festivals.

The party begins from Dhanteras - the day to raid markets. I am the one who hates crowd but not this day. The crowd is all smiles, fancy and colourful. For some it is the shopping of the year, for others it is the earnings of the year. Unusual day when both the shopper and the shopkeeper are in benevolent mood.

I usually like the exquisite sculptor work available on these days. Talented villagers from far flung hinterland showcase their expertise. Pity that it is not encouraged and marketed by the authorities.

Mythologically, there is no concept of Chhoti Diwali, unlike Chhoti Holi when Holika was burnt, but as Holidays used to begin one day before Diwali, for us kids it was Chhoti Diwali. This was the day to test fire our toy guns so that they don't misfire on the D-day. This was also the day of decoration, putting Jhaalar - the light bulbs.

Then came Deepawali. Guns, Atom Bombs, Phuljhadis, Rockets, Chataai, Lehsun. However, the stuff I loved the most was Anaar and Chakarginni, especially when more than one were running together. Ladies of the house are usually afraid of sound and blast, so they would stay away from Bombs, and would be content with Phuljadis.

Fun would get doubled when cousins also join the party. We usually never bought crackers directly from the city markets because of the exorbitant rates. They were directly bought on wholesale basis from the villages where they are manufactured. Cost was the factor, but quality was also better. More sound, more colour.

Of course, how can I forget the Laxmi-Ganesh Poojan, and lighting of Diyas and Candles before this celebration. "Is Din Padhogey To Saarey Saal Khoob Padhai Karogey" - Mummy says, so we use to keep with us our favourite books during the Pooja. Once Pooja gets over, time to munch on Kheel, Khilauney and other sweets.

When this never-seem-to-be-ending night ends, it breaks into the dawn of Jamghat - the day of endless kite flying in Lucknow. This day, no man does nothing except kite-flying, and ladies join too. Did a detailed post last year on this - The Beginners Guide On Patangbazi.

Then comes Bhaiyya Dooz, the exact replica of Rakhshabandhan minus Rakhis. Sisters are lucky, for they have two official days of loot-khasot every year, apart from non-official ones. Not that I mind. I have sisters and cousins abound, Isliye Zeb Thodi Halki Hi Rehti Hai.

After almost a week of festivities, Man Nahin Bharta. Yeh Dil still Mange More!

Rakhi

Predictable post, but it ought to be.

Ever since I became understanding enough to understand that importance of this festival is way beyond just tying fancy threads, enjoying sweets and getting gifts, there has never been an occasion I didn't have a Rakhi in my hand. Alas, courtesy ever-delaying Indian Postal Department - no Rakhi this time. To say I am broke is a huge understatement.

Though, I have only one immediate (younger)sister, but after accounting paternal, maternal, Muhboli sisters and cousins - my both hands have been always full, and pockets always empty. Since my little sister is way too younger than me (seven and a quarter years), she has been a kiddo(and probably will aways remain) for a larger part of my life.

When very young, she would scamper away with sweets even before tying the Rakhi to me. She would also insist that I tie her a Rakhi too! Of course, as far as gift is concerned eleven rupee was a big money then, big enough for little her.

As I had many cousins, and Muhboli sisters in Lucknow - all living in different corners and centers of the city, Sadakein Naaptey Naaptey Jootey Ghis Jaatey The. Those whom I would visit later found it very hard to locate some unoccupied space to just about fit in their own thread.

A few of my cousins, who were not from the city were gracious enough to make a visit every year, some as far as 100 KM. Use to feel very guilty about this, but they never complained. In fact, the look of happiness and satisfaction in their eyes use to melt away any such doubts. What an irony, haven't seen many of them in years.

It was only prudent to skip the dinner. There would hardly be any apetite or space at the end of the day.

I am sure this exactly is what must be happening in the small town India. Brothers and sisters, making a point to visit each other, taking small time out of their busy schedules. Of course, some cities are very professional, where work doesn't stop even in the adversity, leave alone a festival. There, Rakshabandhan can wait. For ever.

For me it is one of the sweetest occasion to celebrate. Happy Rakshabandhan to all. Enjoy lyrics of this haunting song, sung exceptionally well by Kishore. I have often cried buckets hearing this.

Post Script: Even as I was writing this post, the courier carrying Rakhis has arrived. Whew, and hurrrraayy! What a timing!

Aaj Biraj Mein Holi Hai Rasia ....

Holi is one festival, I suppose, which has as many different manifestations as no other festival. Different parts of India or even a region celebrate it differently. Not only the style, the number of days of celebration also vary quite a lot.

For example in Brij (Mathura city and there abouts), the festival is celebrated for ten days. No other place can beat the zeal with which Holi is played here. There is Ladduon Ki Holi( played with sweets), Phoolon Ki Holi(played with flowers), Latth-Maar Holi( played with sticks). Of course, Abeer-Gulal is also used on the actual day.

In Kanpur it goes on for seven days; on seventh day, the day of Ganga Pooja, it's played with more enthusiasm to the surprise of unaware visitors. Some of the guys even use mud. I had a lucky escape once.

In Pune, Holi is largely conspicuous by its absence. Here they play on fourth day with a little more intensity but not intense enough. Some people are even coming to office.

In Lucknow, we use to have a Chhoti Holi, the day of bonfires; the day Holika was burnt. It is also known as Dulhendi. Next day, the Phalguni Poornima, is the day of colours. Sikhs also celebrate a three day Hola-Mohalla.

On personal front, I must admit that I am not very fond of colours. I hate the tedious washing part. My school friends use to collect and move around in a group(called Toli) visiting each and every member of the class, and even some of the teachers. Our young Geography ma'am used to have nice time playing Holi with her pupils, much to the chagrin of her conservative mother.

But I love eating, and visiting part of Holi. The Goojias(especially the fresh & hot ones), Papads( both Sabudana, & Potato ones), Sev( Besan strips) etc are fun. Eight days after the Holi are the days of Holi Milan, visiting friends and relatives and enjoying the goodies. During the last few days, we would know which one of the friend's stock of Gujia still wasn't exhausted. Then we made sure it got exhausted !

Good old DoorDarshan never failed to show Hasya Kavi Sammelan. Kavi Sammelans on TV. They were like Eid Ka Chand those days.

All and all, loads of fun. Ab Waise Din Kahan. Na Waise Holi Khelney Waley Log, Aur Na Hi Waisi Holi. Only been once to Lucknow for Holi in last five years, and that too not in very perfect circumstances. No fun this time either, but wish you all nice time with the festivities.

Happy Holi, & Happy Hola-Mohalla.

Happy Holi !

Happy Holi To All.



Previous Poem - Vachan

Republic Day

Republic Day meant colours. And not just Saffron, White & Green.

We use to get up early to watch the early glimpses of Republic Day parade. That would include President paying floral tributes to Amar Jawan Jyoti at India Gate. This would be followed by hoisting of national flag at Rajpath and National Anthem.

Not to miss the eloquent commentry by Jasdev Singh and Komal JB Singh running at the background. Believe me, whatever they told us about our country one would never find in any book. It was such a learning experience.

After singing the 52 second anthem, we would run for school for our little celebration. School quadrangle would be in festive mood. All students would be attired in their scout dresses, house scarfs, badges and ribbons.

Flag would be hoisted, and we would proudly sing the anthem yet again culminating it with a collective shout of Jai Hind. Then we would wait for our pack of sweets. Two Moti Choor Ke Laddu, and a Khasta or Samosa, what else! At a nearby government school, Sarwasti Shishu Mandir, they would be playing patriotic, soulful songs which would fill us with immense pride.

After that choice would be ours. Either we go and watch the remaining parade on television, or proceed to Vidhan Sabha to watch our school's tableu allong with others being displayed or simply assemble for a cricket or football match.

After all the day was all ours now, and there was a festival with a difference.



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