FESTIVITY

It’s that time of the year again, with festivals doing the round. “Festivity” –it’s all in the air and is contagious. Sparking enthusiasm, and fission reaction of energy, exaltation and celebrations. When markets are alive, crowded and full of alluring gift packs of candies, chocolates, biscuits, dry fruits, juices, chips etc. and as you pass by these series of shops in the nearby market, glancing each and every item on display, with eyes wide apart, you wish that the guests this time come to greet at your place not with those traditional sweets and dry fruit boxes but with your favourite chocolate and cookie boxes.

Next best thing that arrests your attention are those twinkling-blinking lights that teasingly beckon you. That reminds you of your science lessons of parallel and series connection in a circuit. The reds, the greens, the blues and the yellows, function together in various permutations and combinations as if doing a jig.

Then you have the candles and the diyas in such artistic and innovative new shapes, sizes and styles, that it seems as if they too have undergone a makeover. They have so much of finesse that one would think time and again before lighting them and letting them melt down. Rather you would prefer placing them for a display on the side table or a showcase in the living room.

“Aapke paas rangoli colours honge?”

A girl enquired. She seemed to be in her early teens, slim, fair complexioned, with captivating hazel coloured eyes and strawberry lips, wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of dark-blue jeans. Standing adjacent to you while you admired the diyas. And that suddenly reminds you, how the maharashtrian aunt, on the third floor of your building would make rangoli. She would take less than five minutes to do it. From the left side of the door to the right. Her hand almost moving mechanically and in an automated or programmed manner. The design, the pattern, so clear in her mind that as if she could see it there on the floor. And while you would wonder what she’ll end up making, she’s almost done. Wow! That’s superb.

“Iske kitne hue?” the girl enquired, with a smile of content on her face.

“Eighty rupees” answered the shopkeeper.

Pulling out a hundred rupee currency and taking back the balance amount of twenty along with the bag of colours, she walked out briskly.
Suddenly there is a loud thud, a lot of smoke that you see and that irritates your nostrils and itches your throat as well. And the next thing you hear is,

“Oye ab main jalaunga”

“Nahi, pehle main ye bada wala bamb jala raha hun”

Oh! There you go, two kids so excited about crackers. Ofcourse, why not, even you have liked them all through the childhood, up till this age of twenties. The best being the rockets/sky-shots, that would go high up in the dark sky and come down, spreading into different directions as though forming a temporary parachute of lights and sparkles.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, feeling calm yet so geared up for the upcoming festivals. Almost intoxicated with “Festivity”.