Holi – soniasmusings

How’s 2023 going so far?

I could wrap up 2022 with joy and satisfaction as I hit the send button for book no. 2 (the second in the Detective Raya Ray series) to my publisher. Unfortunately, 2023 began with a shock as my father-in-law had a nasty fall. He underwent surgery for a broken bone. By God’s grace, he’s better now and recovering well. In January, we celebrated Saraswati puja and explored some delectable cuisines at different restaurants.

A month into 2023, I was chasing the deadline for book no. 3, my first commissioned project for a true crime story from the past. It was also the month my seven-and-a-half-year-old was due for his final assessment. Kolkata was under the grip of a deadly virus, and almost everyone I know, including me, was grappling with a weird kind of flu that just refused to go away.

By the beginning of March, things started looking better as I delivered the manuscript within the deadline, and we showed signs of recovery from the flu. The son finished his exams on the 6th of March, and we took off for a mini vacation to Mandarmani the next day.

Since the 7th of March was Holi, we played with colors before diving into the Mandarmani sea. Three days of a beach holiday rejuvenated our minds and bodies as we explored Tajpur Beach and Mohana near Digha Beach, experimented with local cuisine, and spent hours at Mandarmani beach. Of course, we didn’t want to return as the break got over.

The kid has his session break; I have taken another week off to spend time and play various indoor games with him. After three years of working non-stop on both books, writing and editing them, I decided to take time off before getting involved in the prepublication stages of my upcoming books. So, here we are, watching children’s movies like Sonar Kella, reading story books, playing puzzles and brain games, and squeezing out every minute to enjoy to the fullest.

I hope you had a great start to 2023 and that the year is treating you kindly so far.

Memories from 2018 – Recap series (Feb & March)

The first post of Recap series had featured my most precious picture from January this year. Moving on to the memories created in the next two months, I realized that both these pictures had a feeling of a homecoming for me.

FEBRUARY

The month of February saw us visiting my father’s ancestral home in a small village called Balia in Bengal. My father had spent ten years of his childhood in this village before moving out to a town for higher studies. He finished his graduation from a college in the same town and then shifted to Calcutta for his post-graduation. After becoming the University topper, he chose to return back to the same small town and join as a Lecturer at his alma mater. I have never seen a man so content to give up lucrative offers and opportunities to stay close to his family in a place which gave him a sense of belonging. Even today at the age of 70, he ensures to visit his ancestral home at least once a month to meet his eldest sis-in-law and my cousin brothers. This February, we decided to take our toddler to Balia to let him have a feel of the emotions that define his maternal grandfather. It was a delight to see him enjoy and explore the place which still retains some memories of the bygone era.

MARCH

Celebrating the festival of colors.jpg — Celebrating the festival of colors

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Wishes for a Happy and Colourful Holi

As a child, Holi was the festival that I would eagerly wait for every year. The colours had to be dissolved in water, the buckets filled with coloured water had to be taken outside and then began the crazy session of applying colour on each other using pichkari(spray or water gun). We had to be literally dragged back home somewhere in the late afternoon after countless requests fell flat on the deaf ears. By then we had so many layers of colours that our faces would have gone beyond recognition. The bigger challenge was for the parents to scrub those colours off the skin. Normally it took a couple of days or more to get back to our natural skin colour. But that enthusiasm filled childhood made us run out with abir/gulal(coloured powder) in the evening again. Yet we had been carefully taught not to apply colour on anyone who refused to be a part of the festival. The concept of consent had been cautiously inculcated within us.

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