Dussera

When we were kids in 6th-7th, Dussera was a big thing. The big Ravan was burnt in a spectacular show of fireworks, all lights and sound. Almost the whole colony would then walk all the way to the basket ball court behind Sector Market (Godavari bldg!) where the huge Ravan would be waiting its impending doom and with the Ram Leela on the stage in the background. I used to go with my whole family, mom always used to yell in the crowd trying to stop me from running off, nobody noticed though, cause everyone would be screaming and running anyways. Almost all of my school friends would turn up with their families. Later after the Ravan was burnt there would be a get together of all the Gujurati families of our group at Patel Uncle's place in Badrinath. There would be Patels, Shahs, Dalals, Panchals, children playing UNO and parents eating Fafda-Jalebi and Papdi and chatni, traditional Dussera food!!

And all of a sudden trying to catch the parachutes (released from the rockets!!) started to seem too childish. Then we grew up a bit more and the fireworks display started to look just as good from our 14th floor flat in Kamet. And then 10th std happened and so we didn't go. Later we stopped altogether.

Now Dussera doesn't mean anything anymore to me, nor do Diwali, nor Holi. This Dussera i was more interested in going back home to get my clothes washed and in the discounts offered on cell phones. And in Diwali i have stopped buying fire crackers long long back and in Holi i would much rather stay at home and sleep till 12.

But I still kinda wish for the old times sometimes...