Today, as I was walking back to my room, I got hit. And not once or twice, but it felt like there was an entire platoon of army kids waiting for the vulnerable, unarmed and unguarded people like me who walk lost in their own thoughts unaware of the surroundings. And it was only after the almost after being hit almost 5 to 6 times totally drenched and yes in a little pain as well, that I realized that Holi is just round the corner. For all those who have not really experienced it, please do not be fooled by the size of the balloons which appear to be small and harmless. Even the kids throwing them are small and mostly cute little Punjabis. But the balloons and the kids happen to be way too smart and certainly not harmless. I literally ran, saving myself from the other planned attacks and everytime they missed, I was so damn elated. After all I still could manoeuvre and save myself from those little goons. J
As I reached my flat safe and sound, I couldn’t help but remember those graduation days. As a matter of fact, it is not the kids alone who are into this tactical balloon game. Even the adults enjoy it as much as these kids, only under the camouflage of those innocent faces of their kids. The 3 lovely kids, staying right opposite to me are a little lazier than the others. They do not take the pains of filling in the balloons and so use a Pichkari instead. After all its much more efficient when it comes to wetting people. And surprisingly, they have a strict code of conduct as well! I heard the eldest among them scolding his younger brother when he tried to wet a man on the scooter. The only ones they target are the people on foot or on rickshaw for they are safe.
I couldn’t help but smile, for we had our own code of conduct. No balloons to be wasted on Men. Not even a single one. I was a blessed soul to have a flat, 3 sides of which had girls hostel. And I need not say anything about the DU girls for it would take me away into some dreamland... Almost 10 days before the real Holi, a lot of us used to gather at my or friends place with hundred of balloons. Those with not so good target practise were made to fill them while rest of us had one sole objective. To wet as many beautiful hostel girls as we could! Hitting men and those on vehicles was a strictly prohibited. And just like all the platoons needed a safeguard as well, we too had ours. After all, none of us want to be caught by the Delhi Police. So there stood 2 female friends for no one really bothered to complain when they look at girls standing and laughing on the top floor with balloons in their hands. And the best part was, the girls rarely used to mind, except a few weird ones who always had a reason to crib and complain. After all they never spared us when we strolled down their hostel. And we never complained either. J I guess, some things never do change.