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| Huge kites displayed at the roadside shop |
I love festivals! I love the brilliant energy it sets in every household. I love the whole package of gatherings, endless conversations, laughter, sharing, downing special festival goodies without iota of guilt or shame for calorie consumption and endless fun that festivals bring.
Festivals have connotations that give our hearts what we desire most; a sense of belonging that is precious and real and a space where even those run down spaces of our own existence find familiarity of comfort and solace.
Having lived in Gujarat for more than three decades where Makar Sankranti is BIG festival and celebrated with great fanfare I miss those celebrations here in Mumbai.
I miss the shagun gifts given by my mother and tilgul (a delicacy prepared with sesames seeds and jaggery).
I miss the vibrant sky full of colourful kites.
I miss a week long preparation; a delightful experience of great anticipation prior to Makar Sankranti.
I miss flying kites on terrace and running after the kites and catching them.
I miss the loud music played unabashedly and having to shout to have any conversation.
I miss watching tiny tots holding on the string of kites soaring high, with their fathers and the beautiful sense of wonder in their little eyes.
I miss finding a kite that falls on the terrace when you are not looking and read interesting messages written over it that makes you giggle.
I miss being a silent witness to the new romance taking shape from the nearby terraces.
I miss getting Sun tanned while flying kites and then sulking for days.
I miss all that cheer and shouting when a kite flying match is won.
I miss watching kandils (paper lanterns) flying in the sky after the Sun set.
I miss the terrace parties that continue till wee hours and then crashing in the bed the next day.
God, I so much miss being in Gujarat on this day! L
