Today I was recalling some awful memories.
Whether your life gives you beautiful memories or awful memories, we always remember both remembrances. Isn’t it ?
Eight years back, when I was in school, as far as I remember, I was in class 7. Holi festival always comes in the middle of my examination or 2-3 days before my examination starts. That year, Holi was in the middle of my examination. This is why my classmates always plan to play Holi on the last day of the Annual examination. When everyone was busy playing Holi outside my house, I have to lock myself in a room for studying. I am always at ease with this isolated lifestyle. I don’t have any neighbouring companions with whom I can play Holi. I never got an opportunity to play Holi with anyone.
Ultimately, the last day of my examination arrived, before entering the examination hall, my classmates informed all other classmates about the different colours they bought while I was listening from a distance. No one is interested to talk to me, specifically not interested to play Hoil with me. As soon as the exam ends, all my classmates rushed downstairs and started to play Holi. I saw every one of my classmates bought different colours like yellow, green, purple and so many colours. While every one of my classmates is busy smudging colours on each other, I was standing alone downstairs. No one is interested to give some colours to me, not even the littlest. I know my friend doesn’t like me at all. Or maybe I do not belong to a rich family, maybe there was some other reason. I don’t know the reason. I only know Holi is a festival of colour. Hoil is about celebrating happiness with family and friends. People forget their troubles and indulge in this festival to celebrate brotherhood. In other words, we forget who are our enemies, who did wrong once upon a time or any bad memories and tried to get into the festival spirit, and create good memories. Holi is also called the festival of colours because people play with colours and apply them to each other’s faces to get coloured in the essence of the festival. In India, People only write it in the essay to score good marks but never do it in real life. They remember everything, the people they dislike, the people whom they never suppressed, the people with whom they never deal, during the festival as well as on normal days. Anyway, 15 minutes later, the whole downstairs was covered with different colours and a small plastic containing leftovers of pink colours. All my classmates left. I still waiting for my school bus. Two boys were rejected like me. I don’t know my classmates never talk to those boys. They were the last benchers. Even I don’t talk to them just like my friends do, unless some emergency. One of the boys picked up that plastic and took some colour and throw it at me. He wants to give me some colours – those leftover colours. I move aside. Though I don’t have friends I do have some self-respect left within me.
I don’t know is it a lesson for me or just a bad luck?
Sometimes I think it a lesson.
Today, 10 March 2020, is Holi, And yes, this year I spend my Holi well, to be specific, much better than those past years.
Lesson
Maybe a lesson or not.
