Joy of small things

After a certain age, life becomes a sort of uneventful. You keep on living from the previous page. It flows like a placid river, calm and serene, you are contented and happy from within yet there is something that you miss but you can not pinpoint. No eddies, no cascades, no rapids.No, not out of cynicism, not out of boredom, it's just deja vu getting repeated again and again. Nothing surprises you and then you get it, what your life now lacks is 'WOW' factor. I too was passing through the same phase and then I suddenly realized it may not be so, life still holds something mysterious away from you, that when it comes in front of you, it just pounces on you leaving you really spellbound and let me tell you, yet it may not be something magnanimous, or profound, it may be a simple act that you might have forgotten years ago which surprises you newly. 

I had heard about Makar Sankranti being a huge festival in Gujrat, but it would be this big was news to me. Though I had visited Baroda, now Vadodara, many times since childhood, never had an occasion to pay a visit during Makar Sankranti. Though my nephew and nieces had invited me umpteen number of times, it was to happen only when my son and daughter in law forced me to accompany them to visit their aunt, my sister.

And the joy of small thing like flying a kite became so huge that it really overwhelmed me. My brother in law had purchased kites of different hues and colours in dozens. 'Manja', special thread to fly the kite too was brought in the length of miles, really miles. Funds being meagre in my childhood I had to play with a single kite at a time with a small bundle of thread. And if it was cut, with a face as small as sparrow I used to climb down the terrace with a heavy heart. So the sheer magnitude of the things played the first part.

On 14th and 15th, January entire Baroda was at standstill [ on roads ] including emergency services of Doctors, because everybody from kids in 5s to grandmas in 80s was on the terraces. Initially, there were few enthus, with stray kites riding the skies here and there. By late afternoon there were so many kites in the sky, that to say it was overcast, would have been an understatement. Hundreds in our area alone and maybe in thousands, if you consider the adjoining areas. Different colours, sizes, shapes of kites in the sky accompanied by loud hoos and haas from every terrace. As such Gujratis are always known for 'Eat and enjoy', lavish spreads were laid out on every terrace and with mouths full with 'Fafdas or Gathias' all the Gujju bhais and bens were flying the kites with full gusto.

I too tried my hand at it, after a long long gap of,  maybe  50/55 years and surprisingly my kite rode the skies like a chariot on winds! Within no time I could master whatever little skills of flying the kite in my own way. And the joy of that small thing was stupendous! Really exhilarating, almost liberating me from the monotony.  I could cut one or two kites in my own right and after 'doing it'  prancing like a child at the age of 63 was nothing but a feather in the cap of enjoyment. My daughter in law was on the floors laughing seeing the antiques of her pa in law! 

My bro in law kept us reassuring that more is yet to come. By dusk, there would be 'Gubbarays' and that sight would be worth a life to watch! I was unsure about how the balloons in the sky would be a sight to watch. After a short wait, 1st one appeared on the horizon and yes it was a sight to watch! It turned out that in Gujrati 'Gubbarays' are not rubber balloons as the thought would go, but are Chinese paper lanterns with a bright flame lit in it. Within half an hour or so there were thousands and thousands of lanterns floating on the sky like chandeliers swaying with the whiff of a breeze. Mesmerized would be a small word. The entire sky was lit with a thousand tiny dots of fire that swayed us without bounds. Mouths gaped, eyes widened and again I was reminded that there can be 'WOW' factor at any juncture in your life, just be open to embrace it!