This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 33; the thirty-third 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. The theme for the month is 'Celebrations'
Celebrations!
Now what does one celebrate? Either an achievement or a festival – which is, by
and large, a celebration of the achievements of a mythological character.
I
have always been keen on celebrating my achievements. The problem is that you
cannot celebrate all by yourself. The moment I call upon someone else to join
the celebrations he keeps raising nitpicking objections. I mean, come on, can
you not just join the festivities without asking stupid questions about whether
I had achieved anything worth celebrating? Hang it all, if I think it is worth
celebrating the fact that I woke up a full five minutes before my normal time,
what is your problem?
With
such unjust people around me this entire idea of celebrating my achievements
had to be put in cold storage. I never seemed able to satisfy them with my
achievements – they pooh-pooh eating 24 idlis at one sitting; sneer at sleeping
the clock through and wax sarcastic about going a month without brushing my
teeth. Such a bunch of hard-to-please people I had never expected. What they
seemed to consider achievements were so far beyond my capabilities that I could
not even dream of them credibly. I mean think of me topping the JEE or coming
first in the CBSE – even in my school? Does not your mind boggle? Mine boggled
so much that I felt dizzy for days.
Festive
celebrations, on the other hand, were wonderful. Diwali, in particular, holds a
special place in my heart. After all, other than my school uniform, the only
fresh pair of clothing I ever got was for Diwali. It normally came in very
handy because the previous pair was just about to disintegrate into its
component threads. My mother normally used to ask me whether my skin was made
of razor blades (Come to think of it, do you think I missed out on a convincing
achievement to celebrate?) It was probably the fact that fresh clothing swam
into my ken so rarely that they seemed far more magnificent than they really
were. I really cannot get that rush of pleasure when I walk out to buy yet
another T-shirt!
The
other wonderful thing about Diwali was that my mom usually had the clear intent
of making four types of sweets and the customary mixture. The month before
Diwali was filled with arguments about what those four would be. After the menu
was frozen, my mom would swing into the act making all of them. I really do not
know if kids of today can work up the same enthusiasm about arguing for what
sweets to buy from the local sweet shop. Most probably they settle for
‘Celebrations’ from the chocolate platter and let it go at that!
Now
that I am a bachelor and live alone, festivals get celebrated by me only when
someone who is celebrating it calls me in as a guest – and, to be fair to my
cousins, they call me in invariably. The one time I decided to make the
savories and celebrate a festival – Pongal, as it turned out – I do not
remember enjoying it much. It needs a special type of character to rejoice in
mopping up the kitchen all day and scraping what looked like a charcoal mine
off the bottom of the pressure cooker and I, as I have often said, am not that
special a character.
Now
if I choose to celebrate by myself I go for ‘Celebrations’ too! Thank God, the
need to do so has not arisen often!
The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton. Introduced By: The Fool, Participation Count: 07
