Festivals, it seems have lost the vibrancy. As a young kid, I was always ultra-enthusiastic about all our festivals and considered it my must-comply duty to do whatever that can be done to bring alive the festivity. That was, alas, as a kid.
At 6-7 years of age, Janmasthami for me began at 5 A.M. and lasted till 2 post midnight. I woke up, bathed and waited, quite restlessly, for others to get up, and that included everybody in the joint family I then lived in. like a man ( 7 year old though ) possessed I'd make a list of things - lord Krishna idols and jhoola(swing), G-I-Joes, chalks, funskool toy cars, sand/mud both red and grey, paints, brushes and more -that I'd need to create a 'jhanki'(model of scenery) of lord Krishna that no other boy in the locality would even think to match. Then my brother, myself and my cousins would put our 'Nari Contractor' like architectural mind to work chalking out a blueprint-on-paper of how the 'jhaanki' would finally look like. While all this was happening, in my conscience, I always assumed myself to be the man-in-charge of the process as if wanting to write at the bottom-right corner of the jhaanki : "by: S*****t and rest".
We then went out to hunt for rait(sand) both grey and red. Grey would be the majority flooring and red path from the 'gate' should lead to 'lord Krishna on his jhoola'. As I am watching the gully from the balcony right now, I don't seem to see any lump of rait. On those days, I don't know why, but there would always be a building under construction nearby and we'd pick the rait and bajri( red sand) from there. "where there is a will, there's a way". Maybe.
I remember that the task of asking for money for our 'experiment's apparatus' was invariably left to me, maybe they thought that like this we will be more generously given money. The fact that it was always me who had to ask for money gave me a strange feeling of pride. 'had it not been for me, you'd have just managed a portrait and some mud', I would brag.
Hindsight, today, seems very very pleasant.
Today, it seems, is not even a spot on those wonderful days.
Today, I woke up lazily at about 7:30 a.m. and even that was after my mummy told me to, yes, 3-4 times. I was still lazing around and reading HT as mummy began her 'pooja' preparations. Dad asked me, 'will you fast today'. And I plainly answered : no. I think there was a time, not so long ago infact, when a straightforward NO as an answer was a big misbehaviour both by my standards and my Dad's. today, I didn't think twice. And Dad didn't say anything.
I had always been a somewhat lazy fellow. Today, I feel lazy in a disturbing way. Today, I feel guilty in a very disturbing way.
And I wish to take back the first sentence of this post because 'I don't know whom' has rightly said : "there are no uninteresting things, there are only uninterested people".
'I don't know whom'! what the hell! I don't seem to know anything...
At 6-7 years of age, Janmasthami for me began at 5 A.M. and lasted till 2 post midnight. I woke up, bathed and waited, quite restlessly, for others to get up, and that included everybody in the joint family I then lived in. like a man ( 7 year old though ) possessed I'd make a list of things - lord Krishna idols and jhoola(swing), G-I-Joes, chalks, funskool toy cars, sand/mud both red and grey, paints, brushes and more -that I'd need to create a 'jhanki'(model of scenery) of lord Krishna that no other boy in the locality would even think to match. Then my brother, myself and my cousins would put our 'Nari Contractor' like architectural mind to work chalking out a blueprint-on-paper of how the 'jhaanki' would finally look like. While all this was happening, in my conscience, I always assumed myself to be the man-in-charge of the process as if wanting to write at the bottom-right corner of the jhaanki : "by: S*****t and rest".
We then went out to hunt for rait(sand) both grey and red. Grey would be the majority flooring and red path from the 'gate' should lead to 'lord Krishna on his jhoola'. As I am watching the gully from the balcony right now, I don't seem to see any lump of rait. On those days, I don't know why, but there would always be a building under construction nearby and we'd pick the rait and bajri( red sand) from there. "where there is a will, there's a way". Maybe.
I remember that the task of asking for money for our 'experiment's apparatus' was invariably left to me, maybe they thought that like this we will be more generously given money. The fact that it was always me who had to ask for money gave me a strange feeling of pride. 'had it not been for me, you'd have just managed a portrait and some mud', I would brag.
Hindsight, today, seems very very pleasant.
Today, it seems, is not even a spot on those wonderful days.
Today, I woke up lazily at about 7:30 a.m. and even that was after my mummy told me to, yes, 3-4 times. I was still lazing around and reading HT as mummy began her 'pooja' preparations. Dad asked me, 'will you fast today'. And I plainly answered : no. I think there was a time, not so long ago infact, when a straightforward NO as an answer was a big misbehaviour both by my standards and my Dad's. today, I didn't think twice. And Dad didn't say anything.
I had always been a somewhat lazy fellow. Today, I feel lazy in a disturbing way. Today, I feel guilty in a very disturbing way.
And I wish to take back the first sentence of this post because 'I don't know whom' has rightly said : "there are no uninteresting things, there are only uninterested people".
'I don't know whom'! what the hell! I don't seem to know anything...
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