Un-holi

Sometimes the urge to write should start out on the back of a telephone bill. Less to do with Gandhian philosophy of saving paper and more to do with fighting the procrastination that comes with waiting for a keyboard. Anyway...

Holi came but did not colo(u)rize our American lives this time.

Holi. Iloh... Just an urge. Egru.
Back to the subject, lost the point above. I lost the nostalgia. Lost the urge. Did I?I did.

I am smiling. It's just trivial happiness. But mine. enim.

So, back to the subject. Is it a subject? No. It is a festival. A highly environmentally hostile one. You throw colors which contain harmful chemicals and then you waste a couple of hundred liters of water per coloured person in trying to get it off your body. you rub and you scrub and you drain that pink water to flow down your sewer into the lake, into the river. Not that the pink shows against the black background that it floats along with.

And the carbon emissions that you add to the atmosphere, driving your car to your second cousin's sister-in-law's place to throw colour on more people...who cares if you remotely know them...knowing is enough. Add to that the bane of calories that are loaded into gujias and the inebriation of the bhang. the opportunity cost of the time spent in doing and undoing the holi. The opportunity cost of writing this piece.

Did you even for a single second think of the money we lost that we could have earned, the water that could have helped the drought prone regions of Orissa or Bihar, the anti-allergy and skin medications that could have been avoided. DId you ever think of th trauma of the would-be bride who inadvertently landed at the last moment with a permanent green dye in her hair parting that was meant for the sindoor.

there is too much chaos out there. Ban Holi. Iloh nab. Ban Diwali. too much pollution, too many hazards. Ban rakshabandhan. too much blocked blood circulation of the wrist. Ban Dusshera. Poor Ravan. Ban all the festivals in between. Strange concepts, hackneyed ides that are outliving their immortality.

Ban life. Ban happiness. Ban laughter. Ban Culture. ban bonhomie. Ban me. em nab.

Ban reason.

Prologue

We are not prolific writers, we blog now and then.
The now and then happens when some strange realization or an apparently bright idea crosses our mind and is strong enough to justify the effort to type. The "apparently bright idea" is generally a questionable thing, I see it as a flicker somewhere in the deep corner of my mind, but it is never enough to light up.
Eventually it boils down to strange realizations or obvious realizations that have seemed very strange since they never occurred to you.
I blog for selfish reasons. My life, my realizations. Someone will have to be curious about me to read it, how many are there...two or three?

Self conscious, once again. Self conscious of my selfishness, of my self-centerednss. How ironic.