Birthday Party of One-year-old

 9th of August, I am invited for the children party at 5pm and I decide to go. And why not? The kid is my sister’s grandson, who is celebrating his first birthday.

I reach his house on the dot of 5pm (thinking that rightfully children's party should be betwen 5pm to 7pm) but the kid is still in his nappy’s. His birthday suit was brought the last minute and his pants were long, so his mom had gone back to the shore to do some alteration. He is dressed in his new shirt and a nappy. Cute!

“Happy Birthday dearest Hirankh” I say handing him his birthday gift. He slaps the gift few times and then throws it aside. (what does he care if I braved the heavy rains and spend thirty full minutes at a toy store searching an approriate gift which is educational and musical, quite suitable for his age- a musical tea-set which sings different rhymes every time you pour out the content from the kettle into the cups)

“Won’t you open the gift and see what I got you” I say, he looks at me and grins,takes another small plastic toy and stuffs it in his mouth. He just has two teeth up and two teeth down and he is always putting things in his mouth.(to stop the itching perhaps)

 
I start to sing a nursery rhyme, “twinkle, twinkle, little star…” he gets interested. I have been singing this same poem since last six months with actions and now he had learnt to recognize it and imitates my gestures for this poem.

 
I feel good that he is responding and want to sing more nursery rhymes, but the little master with short attention span, soon he is bored and shifts his attention to more plastic toys to stuff into his mouth.

His mom returns from the store and dresses him up and he is ready for his friends. He crawls to the hall which is decorated with lots of baloons and streamers.
 

His first guest, a 14-months-old, arrives at 6pm, one hour late. A loud music to full volume is played and both the kids shake heads and hands as they sit opposite each other.

Soon more friends arrive, all under five-years old. All shy at first, hiding behind their mom’s legs but with little nudging they start to smile and are attracted by the basket full of toys kept in the middle of the room.
 

Hirankh loves kids and he is gurgling and babbling, happy to be amongst so many kids around him. He rolls on the floor, tries to stand up, falls, stands up again, shakes his head and enjoys the music. They play with soft toys, kicking ball, squeezing the noisy toys and jumping on a bean bag. The care-takers stand at a small distance, alert, watching the kids while mothers discuss the likes and dislikes of their children.

Potato wafers and smiley-shaped snacks are served and all kids move to the centre table, nibbling the wafers and dropping some on the floor. Its 7pm and the party has just begun.

The party goes on till 8 pm when the birthday baby cuts the cake.

This was a fun party where I enjoyed one-year-olds interacting with each other…….

Mother's Day celebration - 2011

Source

All day long, since last two days, people have wished each other mother’s day. Two days before the big day a message was posted on friend's profile that said "In honor of Mother's Day let's change our profile picture to a picture of your Mother and keep it there till May 9th.I did and so have several others. If you will and like the idea, please repost as your status, so everyone gets the message and see how many Beautiful Mothers we can get on Facebook." It was a nice thought and I quickly added my mom's picture on my FB. The face-book was full of mothers’ picture and it seems quite nice to see all them on every friend’s profile.

I am not sure when Indians started celebrating this day; I don’t remember celebrating this day when I was in my teens or in early twenties. I don’t even remember buying my mom any gift or flowers to show my appreciation. When did this day become a day to celebrate in India? When did this idea travel to India?

On Google search it's said that Mother's Day was first suggested in the United States by Julia Ward Howe in 1872 as a day dedicated to peace after the Franco Prussian War. The holiday gained its popularity majorly due to the efforts of Anna M. Jarvis, who began a letter-writing campaign to garner support for its celebration.

I became aware of this day when I migrated to Spain. “Dia de Madre’ is the big day in Spain and is celebrated with much affection. The streets are full of shoppers and people get busy buying flowers and gift for their mom. In every coffee shop you see the bond, the glimmer, the affection. When I lived with my brother’s family, we would buy gifts for my mom and brother’s children would buy gift for their mother, while yours truly received none. (not even a tiny rose), my nephew waited for aunt's day so that he could buy me a gift too and often questioned why there was no 'Aunt's Day' to celebrate.

That is the pain of not mothering a child of your own. You remain an aunt to thousand kids but they have no reason to celebrate your existance.

You may have the best of qualities of bringing up your brothers’, sisters’ or cousins’ children, showering them with all the affection that you are capable of giving, by singing them nursery rhymes till your throat goes dry, inventing stories to keep them amused while their real mother is pampering herself with a spa, or listening to their sob stories when they are unable to sleep and are sharing your bedroom because their parents' privacy is more important, sometimes you may have even spent your extra cash on that brat for a computer-game which his mother had refused to buy for him, but on mother’s day it is strictly ‘real biological mother’ and even if they wished you with a soft peck on your cheeks, it will be out of politeness, but it just doesn’t seem real.

I visited my sister on mother's day and her unmarried sister-in-law complained that her brother’s sons failed to bring her any presents and that all her life she has doted on them but still the children only remember to get gift for their own mother. I told her to buy herself a gift instead of waiting for somebody to gift her. Expectation is the mother of bigger sin and the root cause of many disappointments. it is better to stand in front of a huge mirror and wish the hour of the day. The smile that reflect back at you is the true smile.

During the family chat with my cousins on blackberry, I off-handedly wished all my cousins ’A Happy Mother’s Day’ expressing the notion of how lucky they were to have children, my cousin wrote back these beautiful words which felt good to read. She wrote back “You don’t have to give birth to be a mother; you just need a heart that loves unconditionally, that’s when you are a mom, so here is to you, a woman with a heart full of love who mothers so may tender hearts and fill them with wisdom”

Yes it is true I have loved all the children, (I still do). I have enjoyed great moments with them, cooked their special meals, stayed up all night when they are sick (even wiped their runny nose) and have mothered them unconditionally but to expect them to wish me on this day, and to be disappointed if they fail to include me on this special day is like loving them ‘conditionally’.

26th January..Republic day, yay!!!

Everybody has great stories to share on this day of my country's celebration, stories of friendship, peace and wealth..er...wealth? hmmmmn wealth!..I am still thinking about those 100 lakh crores tied as prisoners in those swiss banks..their struggle has not yet ended.......we must think about their freedom....no?

Everybody knows it is wrong to hide money like this but nobody can do anything about it..right??

Celebrating Children’s Day 2010 Virtually

I remember celebrating this day with gusto when I was a kid. Every year this day would be celebrated in school with snacks (popcorn, wafers, glucose biscuits and candies), some balloons, gifts, games and same boring speech by our principle.

Every year we would hear the same story that November 14 is celebrated as Children's Day across India to mark the birthday of India's first Prime Minister Pandit Jawaharlala Nehru. He loved children very much and was popularly known as 'Chacha Nehru' (Uncle Nehru)!

Every year I would hear our teachers say “Children are the future of tomorrow, you must grow up to be good citizens” and I would anxiously wait for the future when I would be fully grown up.

But I never grew.

The child in me refused to grow up. (what to do?) I am still excited by the rainbow on a cloudy day (yayaya!!). I will still run after a colorful butterfly. (Yipeee!) I still laugh heartily at a good/bad joke (Hahhaaha). I still get annoyed when people ignore me(eeewww). I will still cry/sob when I am sad.(sniff! sniff!)

This year, children’s day was on a Sunday. Normally, my virtual world is closed on Sundays.

Sunday is the family time and I try to avoid going online as much as possible, (although not always successful). There are moments when I peep into my smart phone for a while, stealing some moments from the family time. And with BB within my reach, it is easy to do that. Actually I don’t do it but that child in me does it. (So not my fault at all)

Thus, at the end of the day, when I finally went online on my desk-top (the proper proffessional way), I saw that I had missed a great party.

The great party was at twitter board.

People had tweeted about various things they did #wheniwasakid and (I had missed it, but noworries) I was happy to tweet on this hash even though I knew none of my friends were there online.

#whenIwasakid I would steal baby milk powder and eat it secretly when aunt would be asleep

#whenIwasakid i never knew how to swim or went for any extra class

#whenIwasakid I always worried abt fan falling off from ceiling n crushing me

#whenIwasakid I was afraid of every person in uniform, be it police or a nurse or even a nun

#whenIwasakid I was terribly afraid of earthquake and had tied mom's pallu to my little finger n followed her wherever she went

People had chatted about the things they did in their childhood at #bachhpan too and had posted their childhood pics. It was interesting to read all those tweets. My friend saw me online and asked me to post my childhood picture.

I didn’t have any.

Perhaps my family was not very rich or maybe I was not that pretty enough for my parents to invest money on camera or maybe- both. I don’t have any childhood pictures. There are few pictures clicked by rich uncles and aunts who must have visited my family during that time, but there is none of me alone. But since my friend wanted me to upload my profile picture, I stole one from baby wall-papers on net and posted at a collage titled twitter #bachpan 2010.


I was happy to see my picture in that collage

When I visited google to search for a picture of babies, the picture on the google page was a pleasant surprise created by 14 year old kid from Mangalore-Akshay Raj who won the second Doodle4Google India 2010 competition!

His logo was up on Google India's homepage throughout the day. He named it as 'My dream for India in 2030'. I must appreciate his thoughts as it clearly speaks of his dream, his maturity at such a young age. The logo simply sums up every aspect of growing India

Last hour of the children’s day was spend reading about my friends childhood memories and having a good laugh, and like every other day, I need a midnight feast, walked to my kitchen to extract a box of sweets , thus ended the day with a bite of cold sweet laddoo – sinfully

Find me at twitter at pushpz

Celebration

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

One more Diwali this year.

I think, the craze diminishes with age, especially if you don’t have children to enjoy with, it is not like those Diwali days of yester years when we were kids.

This year it wore a subdued mood.

Best Diwali was celebrated during those days when mom was alive. It had a different meaning then. Mom would start cleaning the house fifteen days before the D-day, which would be followed by shopping for new clothes, then making sweets, distributing to family and friends and finally the prayers, with plenty of gifts exchanged, some of them recycled. There would be lots of crackers and fireworks, mud lamps were placed at every window sill in the house and balconies would be lit with colorful bulbs. We would have continuous stream of guests, and of course lots of phone calls from relatives who lived abroad.

But, after mom, nothing is same.

With 90% of my older relatives dead and gone, the few that are left, they live in their own world.

Cleaning is done by maids, sweets and savories purchased from the stores and shopping is just a norm. We are shopping all year round so this is just another day.

I walk downstairs to meet the kids in my building compound and they are bursting expensive rockets. ‘How much did you pay for this 30 seconds pleasure?” I ask their father as I see the rocket go up in the sky and burst into thousand spraklers "Don’t even mention, it burns our heart and our pocket” they say “We have paid through our nose” and their kids looked at them with crinkled nose trying to understand what we meant and I tell them “Beta, you don’t understand how difficult the times are now, wait for 20 years and you will understand”

The children continue to derive the pleasure of bursting more crackers, those bigger strings of 2000 noisy crackers and I pause for a longer time to complete my unfinished sentence.

I am proud of the blinking red-rose shaped bulbs, which runs parallel to string of colored bigger bulbs and then there is one more string of hundred tiny green bulbs running across my balcony grill in the zigzag fashion. I am elated each time I go to my balcony to admire them, and then suddenly...Oh No! It is raining heavily, wetting my extension cord. It never used to rain during Diwali . Global warming! Bah! It is darkness again.

I recieve many SMS's, people sending me the forwards with no originality or personal touch. I do the same. All my friends are on social media and they all wish me on Face-book. No postman arrives with a greeting card. (when they come for Diwali bakshis they have an embarrassed look) All of my NRI family is on a smart phone and they exchange virtual sweets, jokes and greetings, but nobody calls to wish…no warm voice I hear. Every body’ messages I read on line and smile…alone.

I am glad that I do have family and friends towards whom I can stretch and reach physically.

I eat, pray and love during Diwali for sometime with them, offline

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Diwali is just round the corner

To enjoy the true essence of Diwali festival, one should be in India. Last year I was in Spain, and I tried to create the atmosphere of the festival so that my brother’s kids, who have never visited India during this time, could experience this festival. I made rangoli, prepared sweets at home, performed Laxmi pooja at our shop and then went to a Chinese restaurant for dinner, but that was all that we could do. No fire crackers, no lighting of Diyas in the house, no meeting people and no wishing every second person ‘Happy Diwali’ Ah nothing….. But this year, I hope, it is going to be different; I hope it to be the way I like it. The kids in my building are quite excited. I see them every evening with a big basket of fire crackers, having competitions of being the loudest joker. They pretend they are brave but take full five minutes to burst a tiny cracker, cowards! The only brave thing they can do is to burn fooljari. (sparklers). During my growing up days, there was great variety of firecrackers available in the market, like those triangular and circular fountains that sprinkled sparklers in the air, then there was a whistle that would go whizzing up in the air, sometimes in wrong direction chasing a frightened person. Then there were rockets, which we would keep in sleeping position at the end of the lane and see it flying parallel to the ground. We had snakes emerging from a small black tablet, there were chaklis that would go round and round, throwing sparklers in all directions. I don’t see these kids with such simple firecrackers any more, (I am sure they must be available but these kids don’t seem to like it) they just like those loud bombs, which me thinks, gives them thrills, you see them blinking their eyes, covering their ears and waiting for it to explode and then jumping and laughing, like tiny terrorists. I don’t even see any adults with these kids, except the watchman or a maid. Parents, aunts, uncles and relatives are too busy with their own lives to bother accompanying their kids. The streets are decorated with lights and lanterns, retail shops are eagerly waiting for shoppers, but everything is so damn expensive that sitting at home and networking seems like a better option.

Thadri

Life has not been the same since I lost my mom, about three years ago. I miss my mom terribly, especially on festive days when my mom would spread the happiness to each and every member of the house, without expecting anything in return. Today was the big festival of our Sindhis. It is called THADRI The mother goddess is worshipped in various forms, Sittala, is worshipped by Sindhis. She is the eldest of several sisters, The annual festival observed in honor of this goddess is called "Thadri", or the cooling festival. It falls on the 7th day of the waning in the month of Savan (July-August) every year. Ladies prepare Lolas and curd on the previous day of the festival , They sing, go to the local shrine and the cold meals (thados). On this day, fire is not lit at home. On this day, mom would be too excited because she loved cooking and it gave her the reason to cook, Her cooking would start, a day prior to the festival. There would be dry vegetable, lentil chappatis, sweet pancakes, sour rice-curd, fried bahjiyas and many more delicacies (I would marvel at her stamina, she never complained about work, never ever) . On the festive day, She would invite everybody for cold lunch. There would be card session after lunch and so much laughter in the house. My family had a great sense of humor; specially my aunts (dad’s sisters) and they would be laughing and quarrelling at the same time…how much I would enjoy seeing so much commotion. Me and my cousins would receive lots of gifts in cash and kind. It would be a great day to celebrate. All my aunts were very jovial and their jokes were always laced with metaphors which made their conversation wittier. With time, most of my family is gone and the traditions are also gradually dying. I don’t make any such things, nor do I enjoy this kind of food anymore. Being weight conscious, I don’t eat fried stuff, or too much sweet or anything with too much masala. I like simple stir fries, or simple home cooked food. I just eat to ease my hunger. My sister called me for lunch today, but I ate quietly and remembered my mom and missed my family and their laughter even more….

My Birthday Celebration

Till the age of twelve, I did not know the date of my birth….every day was the same and nobody cared. Being the fifth girl in the family, I was most unwelcomed arrival into this world. So the celebration was naturally out of question.

At school, I would receive sweets and chocolates from my friends and sometimes was even invited for birthday parties but mine was never ever celebrated. I envied all the rich girls and hoped to be born in a better home in my next birth. I always wished that some one would celebrate my birthday, make me feel important, shower me with gifts and get me those frilly new dresses. But being fatherless, things were different.

 Luckily for me, I was blessed with most beautiful and caring mother but she also had her own problems and was under too much stress. Living in a joint family without a spouse is difficult, life is hard. Therefore I never dared ask her for a celebration of my birthday nor did I ever ask her the date of my birth.

 It was at the age of thirteen that I finally learnt the date. That was when I had changed school and I was able to peep into my school leaving certificate. It said 27th June and I waited, glancing at the calendar everyday, waiting for the day to arrive. And at the age of fourteen, I finally celebrated my birthday for the first time in my life.

Being inexperienced, I took all my friends for a movie and then treated them with Samosas and drink and the culture of celebrating birthdays began.

 But, this kind of celebration always embarrasses me, I no more enjoy the attention and the fuss associated wih it and normally like to spend it quietly. But, friends who care, drop in uninvited to wish me and I treat my friends for a lunch or an outing and have a good time.

 But this year, things were different. It coincided with a marriage celebrations of my cousin’s son in Jaipur. Now, Jaipur is the place I was born in but I have never ever celebrated my birthday there. It sounds good! My sister decided to gift me a return air ticket, and that was a perfect. So, this year, the birthday celebration was different.

I wore a new dress, travelled to Jaipur, took a tourist bus from airport to ‘Le Meridian Hotel’ a fifty minutes drive (during which I was able to get some great shots of the city), was received with traditional music, a flower garland and a warm welcome, and I was given a suite, the biggest room in the hotel that I shared with her mom (she always says that I am her favorite cousin whenever she introduces me to her friends, so naturally, I deserve the best..), attended the Hi-Tea event, where we were introduced to other guests, and then late evening, there was a welcome party in the hotel with delicious cuisine and entertainment.

There were many dances organised, including belly dancers who put in their best performance…. Although all the guests were attending this wedding celebration, I pretended that it was my party…..

hahahaha!! What more can one ask???

What should I wear????

Each time I receive a wedding invitation, I get worried…No, I am not unhappy that one more couple is getting married. Actually I have nothing against any one getting married, it’s okay for me if they want to start a new life together but why give me an invitation to attend their marriage? What work do I have? I am not required to perform any rites, nor do I enjoy dancing or singing loudly at the weddings. I don’t even drink any hard/soft drinks nor eat those oily foodstuffs with dripping mayonnaise. So what do I do at these weddings? Just dress up and keep a smile? Dressing up? Now that’s another headache! I am worried about what shall I wear? The other day, I went with the groom’s mother for her shopping and I was shocked. Each outfit was costing her around 80-90 grand! Then there were solitaires and fancy footwear. During the wedding she will be worth more than 2 lakhs at each occasion. And there are four such occasions before and after the wedding. I asked her as to why would she spend so much money in doling herself, when it is not even her wedding and she said that she was groom’s mom, the centre of attraction, and would want to look good in photographs. The hostess should be well dressed. Okay! So where do I fit in? Whatever I wear, it will look cheap even if it costs me 10 grand. (Not that I will spend so much money on one outfit.. Nah! not me) And why must I invest so much money for somebody else’s wedding? And what do I do with that outfit after the wedding is over, can I repeat it? I could, only if there are different set of people but if there are same group of people at another wedding then repeating is a sin. They might say ”Oh this outfit., I remember. You still have it? You also wore it at XYZ’s wedding. Hai na??” Come on, you don’t expect me to throw away my expensive clothes after just one wash, do you? Gimme a break!!! So, the second best thing is not to attend the wedding at all. I will bless the couple online maybe in my night suit. Who care!

Holi Times!

Little cute terrorists came down in the building compound with their water guns that looked like colorful machine guns, splashing water with great gusto on each others faces. I approached the children in my compound, focusing on their moods through my lens and their playfulness is clearly visible. Holi is the festival of colors and it has not lost its charm in India, not as yet. I am not sure if Indian kids spend too much time on the net, but here, the children in my compound, come every evening, to spend the time with their friends. And they are seen to spend some wonderful time with their friends, inventing games and enjoying each other’s company like we used to (when we were young) and they still enjoy all the festivals of India. Holi is one festival that is enjoyed by all age groups But is Holi a naughty festival? Do guys get seduced watching girls in clinging wet clothes? In my building compound they had a weird way (well that’s what I might say now, with tinge of jealousy, although I am not sure whether it is weird) to celebrate Holi. The drummers were called and all the youngsters danced at the beat of the drums. A big water tanker was hired for the day and the youngster splashed gallons and gallons of water on each other from the thick hose and then jumped in a big tank of colored water, splashing the water at each other and laughing for no reason at all. The dark color on their faces refuse to fade but their clothes sank deeper and deeper into their body curves. My friend tells me that he gets chance to touch his crush. Well I am sure nobody minds touching. Like they say “Burra mat mano, Holi hai” During Holi, must they play with water balloons? They bring buckets of water balloons and hide themselves behind the walls. Like hand bomb granates, they fling the water balloons on unsuspecting lady passerby, aiming the water balloon on her breast, happy to see her chest soak with water, and droplets dripping down her clothes, bringing pleasure to these mischief makers. Many girls are afraid of being the target of this embarrassment and prefer to stay home for fifteen days prior to this festival, Holi is the festival of colors but do they really use only color powders? The substitutes (red powder is what they are suppose to use) are terrible. Eggs, tomatoes, shoe polish, oil paints, mud, jam, jelly juice. The more innovative people get the more disgusting (or entertaining) it gets. Sometimes the paints are so stubborn, that the stains refused to fade and it creates rash on the face. Its fun, no it’s so gooey, no its fun, I can’t really decide. They head on to swim at the beach and remove the excess of stains. It is the time to have more fun, snacking and swimming, for the rest of the day. Phew!! Some festival!!!

Those memorable days in 2008

28th March was the day circled on my calendar. It was the day to celebrate my cousin’s birthday. What was exciting was that it would be celebrated in a strange land, a place that I had never visited before, exciting also because all of my family from different parts of the world, had also circled this date on their calendar. I belong to a close knit family, but all are scattered around the world and we meet whenever there is an occasion to celebrate, a wedding or a holiday, but this time it was special-‘A 50th birthday in Dubai!’ Who would want to miss it? The preparation started one month in advance. Email found their way to all the inboxes, we exchanged notes on planning the trip, the venue, the staying accommodation, the visas, the shopping….there was so much homework to do and the excitement was building each day. Accommodation was no problem, Nikki and Dina, who live in Dubai, happily agreed to share their house and were willing to accommodate everybody into their house. The birthday girl- Gitu- (from Lagos) first to arrive in the city with her sister Rajni(from Chicago) and her daughter Neha and went for shopping for air-mattresses, blankets, towels, and all the sundry items that would be required for our comfort and then they settled to receive with warmth the family that began arriving. One by one, family arrived, each received with hi-five, hug and laughter. Chandru and Baby (from Hongkong); Suresh (from Texas); Laju (from Lome); Reza (from Bahrain); Raju, Rani and Devkadidi (from Pune) and yours truly (from Mumbai). Sanju and Kareena (who stayed just few block away in Dubai, were of great help) and Asgar (the banker who would foot the bill) arrived just few hours before the actual event. And the fun began. The birthday party was held at the newly opened ‘Zen” a Chinese and Thai restaurant (a family restaurant in Dubai run by our Dubai host-Nikki). One thing good about celebrating in the family restaurant is the freedom to enjoy the food and the song. We went crazy clicking pictures, messing with the birthday cake and over-eating randomly from every table, and sometimes from the kitchen. The party went on till late at night and then continued for next ten days. A mini van (15 seated) was hired for traveling within the city as we did malls and restaurants hopping. Then there were Dessert Safari and Abra rides and long drives through the city. Morning were the best, when we would laze around, munching breakfast and sharing vague stories, jokes or ragging the weak ones. Late nights were for watching a film. Sixteen family members were merrily squeezed into 3BKH apartment and nobody was complaining. Those were the memorable events that refuses to fade away and they brighten my day, each time, when I browse through those pictures. I have captured each moment and framed it into my memory album, forever.

I don’t play Holi anymore.

Not that I don’t like this festival, (Actually I do) but the mess that follows later (cleaning the house and the bathrooms) is unnecessary waste of time. Early morning I heard the laughter of kids who were playing with color in the building compound. There were sounds of children running, shouting, and giggling. After saying a short morning prayers, I went to my bedroom balcony to watch the children play. Happily they sprinkled colors on faces of their friends, red, blue, green and the festival had arrived with vibrant hues and the celebration of life was here again. Hoil, the festival of colors, mischief, pranks, a day when you get away with any practical jokes and yet dance to a loud music. Holi is a festival of universal brotherhood and happiness. The bonfires that are lit on the eve of Holi are in reminder of the value of true faith in God. Many years ago, we would lit the fire in the lane and all the neighbors would come with coconut, sweets and water, and we would walk three times around the bonfire, break the coconut, sprinkle water and red color powder and then we would play games like antakshri or dumbsheras till late nights. This year I went with my sister to the corner of the street and watched while my sister went closer to the fire to pray. Didn’t want to risk walking around the bonfires, was afraid that I might slip on the wet ground and harm myself. Many years ago, we looked forward to these festivals and took part in all the festivities. We were young then, our vocal chord had higher decibels. We knew all the bollywood numbers and a great stamina to keep awake all night with friends and sing and laugh. Now, Holi is a day to celebrate with family, enjoying lunch, chat and play a game of cards with family and friends. I like to watch children play Hoil, like to watch youngster dance to the loud music and do rain dance, I enjoy this festival, but now I watch it from a distance. Not that I have become old, it is just that now my priorities have changed.