Wistfulness

In all these years away from home, I have learnt to handle practically everything on my own. Everything - bad food, homesickness, illness without having someone to fuss over me, devastating grades, heartbreak, loneliness, bhang-induced highs on Holi, packing and unpacking - and practically moving house - twice a year, doing my own laundry (and learning, the hard way, that whites and pastels are best not bought), living on a budget, cooking my own meals, fretting over my decisions or patting myself on the back for them. It hasn't all been uphill, though...I've celebrated my proficiency at changing light bulbs, my confirmation after six endless months of probation, danced in joy over an assignment that fetched a 23.5 on 25, dealt with the impact of vague crushes, grinned like a maniac at my phone when Citibank sent me their first text, informing me that my salary had been credited to my account, felt superhuman after having negotiated three peak traffic hours to get home, revelled in the bliss of travelling alone and being officially incommunicado, been trusted with responsibilities and (heh heh :) secrets, and learnt how to tie a saree, not to mention some micro, macro and development economics, and human resource management, all by myself.

And you know what, it's tough to deal with a rough patch alone...but it's tougher still to have something to celebrate and have the people you most want to share it with, not around. I've managed both - all said and done - with decent aplomb. Oh, give and take a few inexplicable-to-the-world blue moods or hyper-excited happy dances.

But the one thing I'm still not used to is having to be away from home and family on festivals. In six years now, I haven't celebrated Holi, Diwali, the Pujas or New Year's Eve with them. And much as I am capable of handling everything else, this one thing still leaves me a little wistful. A phone call - or several - is not much of a substitute. That is not to say I haven't had some very memorable celebrations with friends in College and at work. I'd be supremely ungrateful if I said I didn't have fun and stow away some beautiful memories. Yeah, now that those friends are far away, too, the memories just get more intense and the festivals just a tad more lonesome :) I was brought up in the sort of family where Friday evenings and Sunday mornings and afternoons were earmarked for something special. Simple, but special. Holidays meant time with the extended family. Dinner time was for conversation and laughter...and festivals meant celebration. Small rituals - spring cleaning, food particular to the occasion, having the gulal or crackers ready, planning the drive around the colony - went into the making of beautiful Holis, Diwalis and Dussehras. And if something like that has been part of your life for as long as you can remember, it's part of who you are.

Which is why I still give my room an especially thorough cleaning before a festival. Also why I make it a point to go shopping for garlands, diyas and sweets, and then spend a couple of hours doing up my room. It's why I stand in the balcony and watch families celebrating, and thank my lucky stars for having had the chance to know what that kind of celebration is like. It is also why, in spite of the nostalgia and the homesickness, I know I will enjoy the festival and be happy and thankful, because that is what festivals are all about.

Diwali is around the corner, so it is time my room got that spring cleaning I was talking about. And there is something so eternally beautiful about a lit diya, it is hard to put into words. It's my favourite festival ritual - lighting diyas. So here's thanking all of you - family and friends - who have given me reasons to feel festive...and here's thanking you, God, for the aforementioned family and friends! Happy Diwali, everyone...and have a beautiful year ahead! :) :)