Holi Smoke

[Guest guest]

I think my earlier description of Holi in our days will provide an impetus

for others to describe their Holis:

Holi, the festival, in my mind can only be associated with the joyous,

informal sessions that all the staff and students of MGIMS used to have

under the banyan tree near Madras Hotel.

The day used to begin early, with innocuous knocks on the door early in the

morning. The poor unprepared soul who unwittingly opened the door, would be

deluged with litres of coloured water. Then, he too would join the group of

revellers to knock on some other unsuspecting door. Choicest abuses were

hurled around in good spirit. " Abey! Wahan nahin! Mera Boyd's kharab ho

jayega! " " Yaar! Ruk! Ruk! Yeh mera naya shirt hai! " " Teri to %$# & *##! "

Then the gang would migrate to some other block to spread the contagion. The

other block would be, of course, prepared. The sneak attack would be greeted

by water balloon bombardment from the terrace. The revelry would then shift

to the terraces. There would be predictable protests from straight guys like

Brij Bhushan Gupta not to pollute our tank water, which would be predictably

ignored. Soon the tank water would be coloured red.

There would be someone who would suggest rushing into the girls' hostel and

pelting them. That had been done by Alhad Pimputkar of 1971. But the girls

would be already aware of such plans. They would pelt us beforehand with

much squealing and screams. (Why do girls squeal so much when they are

excited?)

After about a couple of hours of this warfare, a small band of colourful

monkeys, both male and female, would be formed. Someone would say, " Its high

time to go for a staff round. "

The gang would turn towards the staff quarters. Dr. Harinath and Dr. Deshkar

were at the proximal end of staff quarters. Our revelry would begin there.

(I am sure Ashok must have borne the brunt of our fresh onslaughts

frequently.)

The staff members would be divided into two categories. The older staff like

Dr. BK Mahajan (PSM) would be greeted respectfully and a coloured tikka

applied to their forehead. But these were few. Most of the staff was in the

second category. Much colour would be splashed amidst shouts and struggles.

Some staff members kept pedhas and jalebis for distribution amongst us.

We used to turn towards the junior staff quarters. Dr Narang was then in the

junior quarters. Here the real fun used to start. We used to get as good as

we gave. We used to be pelted back, splash for splash!

It all used to culminate in a large gathering under the aforementioned tree

in front of Madras Hotel. Now the true star of the day here would be Dr. ML

Sharma, our principal. He used to start off the celebrations with jokes.

Every year he would tell us a simple veg joke. Then everyone would protest.

" Kya Sir! Yeh Theek nahi! Jara Non-Veg sunavo! " This is when he used to go

into top gear.

He had a huge repertoire of jokes, especially non-veg jokes. He used to tell

us that Dr. Dhawan, the Ophthalmologist HOD, had put up his stall at the

exhibition with a large eye, with Dr. Dhawan's photo in the centre

(pupillary area). Dr. Kasturi Lal, HOD Gynaecology (Yes, we had a male

Gynaec HOD) went to Dr. Dhawan and said, " Thank God! We do not need to put

up a Gynaec stall! " Both Dr. Dhawan and Dr. Kasturi Lal would smile and

counter it with jokes about Pharmacology (Dr. M. L. Sharma's department).

Students would compete with more non-veg jokes. Then Dr. M. L. Sharma would

say, " Arre Yelange! Tu jokes ke badle itna dhyaan padhai ki taraf kyo nahi

deta? "

The student's association would then distribute sweets to everybody. The

gathering would then disperse. But the fun would not yet be over.

Everybody would gather in their hostel blocks again. Surreptitious packets

of Bhang would be taken out and mixed with pedhas. Poor, unsuspecting souls

would be offered pedhas and made to sit in the room until the bhang took

effect. Then the real fun started. I remember Dr. Rajeev Chaudhary room,

where once a junior foreign student was asked his name and country. Both

were so exotic that it captured the imagination of all the bhang intoxicated

gang. Suddenly the whole gang burst out into an African dance with the

words - " Battila - Angola! Battila - Angola! " They went around the whole

hostel singing - " Battila - Angola! Battila - Angola! "

I am sure when Battila (1979, I think) returned to Angola, he must have

carried unusual memories with him.

Another guy just rushed into Panditrao's (1976) room and said, " Let me sleep

here, Pandya. The fan in my room keeps coming down, and it might cut me! "

Before the perplexed Panditrao could protest, this guy scrambled UNDER

Panditrao's cot. The cot would be his protection against lowering fans!!!

By 3 pm everyone would be so exhausted that only a few would have washed off

the colours. The rest would be resting like crocodiles, inadvertently

staining their bedsheets, but uncaring. Their arms would be flung out in

total ecstasy. All the worries of academics demands would have been shelved.

The only thought would be the utter bliss of this magical day.

The next morning, the dull routine of academics would take over. The only

reminder of this unique day would be the red colour behind the ears and the

smile on the lips.

Kishore Shah 1974