Not So Happy Holi Time Stories

It’s been long since I have played Holi. But there have been two back to back instances in my life where Holika hasn’t been great to me. The first story goes back to the time when I was in 5th grade. Holi as usual was in Mid-march. Those days’ Final semester exams used to start in the first week of April and all schools closed by April 14.As an 11 yr old, I was a short kid and had a lot of building friends. We had decided to spend the whole day with a lot of fun and fervour.

Those days there were no plastic bags or thiylis, there were only balloons which could be procured from shops, filled with coloured water and thrown at people not expecting it. The meticulous planner that I was, I had informed all my friends to get out of the house sharp at 7:30am with all the pichkaris, colours and balloons.I had standing instructions at home to not dirty the house but was allowed to take buckets of water and go out and play. Dad had got a hose to provide water supply from the tap directly to the door to ensure that his ward didn’t have to venture inside the house to fetch water. After Holika was ignited, the previous night, I came back late but filled up all the balloons to ensure minimum wastage of time on the next morning. I slept at 1am keeping an alarm for 6:30am.

At 6:30 sharp I got up and slowly moved all the equipment, pichkari, balloons, buckets full of water, colour packets and connected the hose to the tap and laid it inside the house right up to the entrance without disturbing my parents. Finally by 7:00 I was ready to ''lallkar'' my friends. Slowly unlocked the door and that’s when mom said, ''hey don’t wear this shirt, change to an older one so that we can throw it after Holi''. The argument seemed justifiable but a waste of precious time; still I decided to change, not to make my mom angry in the morning. After removing the shirt and the vest, I looked around for an old rugged shirt. I was searching the cupboard for an old shirt and mom was standing behind me. She happened to observe a few boils on my back.She inquired about its nature and when it appeared, I had no clue. Then she asked me to turn around and found a few more boils on my torso. Her worst fears had come true. A few more observations on the arms and face revealed that it was ’’chickenpox ''.

Now there was no chance that she was going to allow me to go out and play. It was announced and all hell broke loose. Door was shut and I ran wild inside crying and shouting in anguish. Dad helped mom get all the equipment back into the bathroom. Mom informed neighbours about my plight and asked them to not let their kids come anywhere close to our house for the next few days as chickenpox is known to spread fast amongst kids.With no respite and a worst possible start to the day, I was told in no uncertain terms that the next few days are going to be painful and no school and more importantly all my pre-work of Holi had gone down the drain. I was left with no option but to burst all the balloons one by one inside the bathroom as a stress busting exercise.


The second instance actually started on a very promising note. Having lost out on my Holi celebrations because of chickenpox in 5th grade, I had decided to play it with vengeance the next year (when I was in 6th grade). This time I bought colours and all things associated with Holi well in advance. As planned last year, this year too the time was set as 07:30. The latest addition was plastic bags or thiylis making it even simpler to fill & throw.

This time my parents were a bit lenient, knowing the agony their kid had faced last year. I was allowed to play for longer durations even though exams were starting in the next week. Accordingly, I got up at 07:00 moved all the equipments to the door and as a custom in Trimurthi Co-operative Society, I went banging on the doors of all my neighbours, one by one saying ,''holi hai bhai holi hai, kya chupke baithe ho, baahar niklo''.

Some timid ones let their moms open the door and get gulaaled by yours truly, rest were daring enough to come out on their own. In the 3 floor building that I lived in, all kids fell in the bracket of 5-13 years and 3rd floor were full of boys with a few exceptions, 2nd floor had our girl friends in majority. 1st floor had some weird people with not much activity; they were the tight lipped ones, not many kids on that floor barring a few. And ground floor was a mix of both.The building had a common verandah on each floor, so playing cricket, gaadi gaadi, train train, ghar ghar, xmas, diwali , killa & holi were all on the building premises. Khojagiri was the only thing held on the terrace. After going off on a tangent to describe the building (it was important to describe the same as story can be well understood after that ) coming back to Holi.

My mom is very jovial character and joined me in playing Holi with our neighbours and by 8am the whole floor was playing Holi. Later on the parents went indoors and only the kids were relishing the fun. People on the road and lower floors were targeted. The 3rd floor gang managed to pull out their friends from 2nd floor. Soon it was hit and run being played with picharis and thiylis being employed as guns and hand grenades.Guys were always at an advantage for being from the top floor. Finally by 11:00 it was more of camaraderie than holi fight. Now each of them were non recognisable and I had got Raymond Colour (a variety known to stay on for long) and was plotting it on everyone.

By 11:30 a few went home as their parents insisted on studying for the upcoming exam, but there was no stopping for me & my friends. I had taken pains to revise my lessons well before time and recited it for mom's satisfaction.The group was pouring buckets full of water on each other and it was flowing down the stairs right down to the ground floor and eventually all the colour residues were getting deposited on 1st & ground floor. We were in no mood to stop so kept hurling water, and thiylis down.

One of my friends had sneaked in and shut the door. We decided to not let that guy go off so easily. We kept playing in the verandah and after a few minutes asked that guy to open the door. As soon as he opened the door, the poor guy who by now had a bath was again drenched in colour and the entrance of his house was spoiled beyond recognition. Then was the turn of my good friend and her sister, Priya and Preeti staying on the 2nd floor. They too had a bath and came out in the verandah spotting clean clothes to have a casual view of the aftermath of Holi celebrations.Catching them off guard was my team. We poured a bucket full of water straight down the balcony, drenching them again, head to toe, and leading to loud shrill all around. Happiness on 3rd floor and Gloom on 2nd floor.

Finally when I decided to stop it was 1pm and it took me 1/2 hr to get the colour off my body with a few shades still lingering on the palms, feet, ears and nails. What I hadn’t anticipated was awaiting me as soon as I came out of the bathroom. I was hungry and desperately looking for a sumptuous lunch instead got a barrage of complaints and scolding almost to the verge of getting beaten up by dad. As I was singing in my bathroom, my nemesis' were plotting my death. Priya, Preeti complained so did the neighbour whose entrance was spoiled, and then came the Building Secretary who stayed on 1st floor to complain about colour residue on their floor. My parents pacified them all but eventually shouted their hearts out on the poor and hungry me.

That day, I had played like there was no tomorrow and also wept later on as I haven’t ever later on in life barring a few exceptions. That day I decided that I will never initiate Holi celebrations in my building. Since then it has been a dull and quiet Holi thereafter. Now when I look back, nostalgia still creeps in.

Happy Holi to All who still enjoy it..!!!