Ran!Jofi rivalry

AASH· IYER

Growingup, the only time I d beexcited to get up early in the morning, was during Oeepavali. All because I was entrusted with the major responsibility of making rangoli in front of the house (Rangoli is essentially thefirst impression people have ofthe level offestivity in your family.) "What masterpiece will I produce today'?" I would ask myself, eyeingfrom the corner of my eye the aunty next door stepping out to make her rangoli. She'd start by makinga flower mandala I'd go a step further and make two mandalas. She'd be almost done with her design while I'd be meticulously working on my colour combinations. She'd add a finishing flourish by placinga lit dlya in the centre of her rangoli, so of course I'd loot my garden forflowers and shred their petalsto my design, simplyto go one up on her (By now, you know I don't take my rangoli lightly.) If your design lasted the whole day and no one stepped in it, you'd won. If your guests asked, "Who made the rangoli in the front?", that was it, you'd made ityou'd be doing next year's rangoli as well.

Mebendirni&cbief

Al AGOYAL

At Oiwali every year, myfather Invitesthe henna auntiestocome and apply mehendi on the handsofall ourfamily members and friends, and everyyear, I am disappointed in them Theydo the world's most intricate design on my palm, and then stop at my wrist. WHY?? "Keep going," I say to them, because I want my entireforearm covered in design, notjust my palm. They reply tactfully, "We'll finish with everyone else and then come back to you". No, no, no, I scream internally, the mehendi will dry

In two different stages and the shades won't match So, every year, I take matters Into my own hands You can see, later, a clear difference between the traditional designs and the hennajalebis I create on my forearm. It does bother me a little, but not as much as havingthe beautiful decorations end sadly at my wrist. This year, I'm worried about being responsible for my own designs. I missyou, henna aunties

Donf �e&by, �eta

Somesh Bha Erao

Sometimes I do regret beinga nautanki in front of my parents, my degree in performing arts notwithstanding.. Everysingletime guests came visiting during Diwali, my mum would go, "Why don't you show uncle and aunty your performance from this year?" As I'd sit squirming, tryingto resist, Dad would follow it up with "He's so talented, audience tohpurikhadihoke taa/iyan bajaarah/ th/!"

It was cute when I was 7, but even now? I'm almost 20 and I rarely step out of my room when guests are over, so when I do harmlessly waltzinto the hallto socialise like a good beta, Mum neverfails to embarrass me. Howdo I explain to her that I am an artist, not a puppet! I need ambience, yaar, I can'tjust start dancing at the parents' whim. Thankfully, this COVIO-Diwali, at least my dignity will remain Intact.