Celebrations, Love and Saraswati

Those days we used to wait for it. Those days when I was 12 or 13 and coincidently my friends were about the same age, we used to wait for it. Holi and Diwali never figured in our favorite festival’s list, but it did and we used to wait for it. The Feel, The Energy and the festivity that happened in late January and early February every year and like any other Patna guy(or perhaps any not-so-small town guy) I used to wait for it.

Patna, arguably the only recognized city in the state of Bihar is the epicenter of all educational activities. Convent schools, Intermediate colleges, Graduation colleges and speckled in between the colleges are coaching centers each of which is run by an Ex-IITan and each of which guarantees a seat in the prestigious Indian Institutes of Technology. And the students from all across Bihar and Jharkhand and Eastern UP come running to the city in pursuit of education. And the city lives to their promises. Hence students form a perpetual part of Patna - rich, poor, timid and violent, students of all types and varieties. Education is the prime topic of discussion. While Gujaratis love their money, Punjabis love their food, Tamilians love their culture, Biharis love their education till the verge of obsession.

And Goddess Saraswati oversees all educational activities. She is the goddess of wisdom, knowledge and enlightenment. Because of her benevolence, people crack competitions, pass their semester and yearly examinations and get through tricky job interviews. It’s because of Goddess Saraswati that we have so many Engineers and Doctors and Lawyers and Managers in our country. Saraswati prepares people to worship Lakshmi (the goddess of wealth and prosperity) for the rest of their lives. And Patna leaves no stone unturned in making the goddess joyous. Saraswati Pooja is the annual fest of all colleges, schools and coaching centers of Patna. Some of them even call it the unofficial Valentine’s Day of Patna.

The glorious 90s - the decade I was brought up in, celebrated the festival in Grand Style. Boys in groups of 5-10 knocked every door in the locality urging (or begging or threatening) for Chanda (donation). People sometimes willingly contributed and sometimes unwillingly gave away cash ranging from Rs. 5 to Rs. 501. Every Collection Committee managed enough cash for the entire worshiping ceremony, lighting, sounds, VCRs  and a rented color television for playing pirated video cassettes for late night movie watching. The elderly students fondly addressed as” Bhaiyyas” by everyone even saved enough cash for their beer and porn movies. Brightly lit Pandals, statues of the goddess adorned with marigold and rose garlands, a continuously chanting Pundit and noise all around, the craziness seemed absolute sanity at that time.

The Geniuses who were experts at handling locally assembled music systems or “decks” as we called them ensured that entire colony listened while the Pundit chanted by strategically placing the metallic loudspeakers on electric poles, roofs of neighbors, or even ad lib bamboo poles. No one in the locality complained, the curse of Saraswati could have rendered their children uneducated and unpolished for life. The same loudspeakers proudly broadcasted the latest chart-busters for three continuous days. Alien words like “Bass” and “Treble” were still to make ways into our lives. “Loudness” was very much in. So when the songs were played, people switched to sign languages in their respective homes. That was the time when music from movies “Aashiqi”, “Sadak”, “Mohra”, “Dil” etc. made their way into our lives.  When there were multiple pandals around, there used to be an impromptu music contest that continued till wee hours of the night. Everyone wanted his Pundit to be heard and everyone wanted his music to rule. And we innocently remixed songs without any hi-fi mixing instruments.

And that was the time when we started noticing love around us, for the first time. Girls flocked at the Pandals dressed in bright Salwar-Kurtis usually ranging from pale saffron to bright orange which is the official dress code for Saraswati Pooja. And their lovers went out of their way to give them a personalized treatment. Once the love of their life appeared at the Pandal, the music usually switched to a soft romantic Ballad, a “chori chori jab nazrein mili” or a “Nazar ke saamne, Jigar ke Paas”.  The expression on the girl’s face would change from happy to shy to a state where fathoming expressions became impossible.  And her friends elbowing her frenziedly so much so that she’d stop looking at anyone. And then the hero would appear with Prasad Packets neatly arranged onto a metallic tray. The usually ordinary Prasad would be garnished with generous helping of seasonal fruits and sweets. Some lucky lovers even managed to spend some private Prasad munching moments with their girls as her friends would leave as soon as the guy appeared.  Everything was planned without even planning. The demonstration of love continued till every single guy of the committee got to treat her girl flamboyantly. Saraswati, the white adorned goddess of wisdom with a constant smile on her face silently played the love goddess. The show continued till three days and after the Pooja new couples surfaced.

Now when I switch on my workstation on a Saraswati Pooja day or any festival that made me go wild in old days, a smile robotically comes on my lips. The songs start playing somewhere inside my mind and flashes of guys dancing and girls shyly accepting their Prasad packets and wailing kids and chanting pundits and blaring loudspeakers  appear on my mental canvas. While I mechanically pretend to be lost in work, my mind dances in the streets where a white idol of the goddess of wisdom smiles at my moves.

The Fri“GAY” Night

Yeah, so it dawned on one of us that we must go to a Discotheque tonight. Friday, night the end of a stressful week and also the first Friday of the month which ensures our pockets are all stuffed with notes. All my friends used to talk about Gurgaon night life and I ruled them over by saying Night Life is only for the call center guys who have no other option but to live this so called rock star’s life.

Probably I never wanted to be a part of the youth brigade that sips beer and taps feet on wild music in closed rooms with flash lights going on and off every alternate wink. But yeah, I was game enough to be a part of my room mate’s decision.
And it started with a beer marathon at our place. We discussed work and our future prospects in the first round. The Second round was dedicated to all the hot chicks in every conceivable place under the sun. In third round, we started calling up our college friends and talking all non sense with them. That was an alarm for us that the alcohol has made its way to our cerebrum. We still completed our fourth round and set off for the Disc. 
 
I have been single all through my life, probably because there is absolutely no room for inspiration. I always belonged to an all male groups where no body had a girl friend. My present room mates are all single and try at every girl who have their eyes and ears at proper places but fail without a fail. And, I work in an all Male team at my office too. So While we were speeding to the destination, our chief talks were girls, how to approach them, how to convince them for a dance and how to god knows what?

The Discotheques are weird places, they allow couples to enter for free and charge money from the single ones. Algorithm is all weird, we are the ones who need partners so we should be encouraged but here they encourage the already engaged ones. Anyways, we could have broken the rules by trespassing, but the sheer size of the bouncers prevented us from even thinking that. And we entered and flocked at a common place.

There was this person in our group who made us realize that we are not drunk enough to approach a girl. And I don’t know why but we agreed to him. Solution, drink more and we started drinking again at almost four times the price that we could have got from a local shop. After 2 Pints of beers I resigned and so did everyone. The chain initiator however stayed till 4 pints. 

Now, five already drunk guys who drank again to an extent that their feet weren’t able to support them standing, started dancing. I felt like standing still, and felt everything else trembling. But then realized after some time that I was the one dancing. I have been a terrible dancer through out my life. I tried my hands at dandiya once, but the girl stopped talking to me after that. It was only after four days, I came to know that I hit her finger multiple times that night.

Anyways, The Alcohol started its magic and I started mine too. “Atul Mishra, here” would you dance with me, lamest of all pick up lines but they were working. Girls were actually coming up to dance with me. I tried to wear the smartest of expressions on my face and they were working. Almost all the girls, I approached agreed to dance with me. I felt like a stud and thought of making my friends a little jealous and turned towards them and introduce them to the new refined version of Atul Mishra. But to my shock I realized, all of them were dancing with girls, piping hot all of them. I was surprised and then thought this is one lucky Friday. I kept dancing with the hottest girl that I found for half an hour. And then I thought of exchanging numbers with her. 

“Buy me a Tequila first”, the girl said. “Sure” I said. “Hey Wait, what did you say?” I asked again. “I said buy me a Tequila first”, she replied. The Voice was too husky for a woman wand was relatively shrill for a man. I was bewildered. I talked to her again to make sure that my conclusion, and GOD I was correct. I was dancing with a half male from half an hour. Then I thought I should talk to all the girls I came across and Yeah, all of them were what I guessed.

I was now sure that my friends were sailing in the same boat. I went to each of them and talked to their partners. And Yes, all of them were GAY and happy. Now, I went to the one of the Bouncers and asked what the matter is and here is what I came to know.
The Delhi High Court has passed a historic verdict by legalizing consensual homosexuality.It was an all GAY night and they were celebrating their victory. Good for them, I thought but could it be any worse for us.All the alcohol was gone in a minute and we were laughing at each other. Probably I never wanted to be a part of the youth brigade that sips beer and taps feet on wild music in closed rooms with flash lights going on and off every alternate wink. Probably, I was right.