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Down the memory lane

So today is the last day of a very festive season in India, Durga Puja, Dussehra, Navratri and what not. So for most of us, these are the days, we look forward to visiting our homes, family, long lost friends, and reconnections. Dressing up, shopping, eating, and other allied human-like activities.
While I always saw people around me enjoy, and smile, festivals always eluded me. Don’t get me wrong, I love the colors, celebration and the concept of get-togethers. But this is also a time, where I see the most falsified, glorified versions of people faking their ass off. In my head, I always have this vision of a festive holiday of hanging out with 1 or 2 close friends, good food, pandal hopping, and maybe some wine. But this never really seems to come true.
While I was a kid, we use to fly down almost every year to our hometown. There used to be shopping, trying dresses and what not, the excitement of the train/plane ride, and the books that joined me in the ride, the fun times with my mom and brother, making up games and smelling terrible gas released by my brother who was tiny but used to eat like any food he could get his hands on. My dad more or less flew down at the very last moment.
Then there used to be numerous once a year visit to all relatives (hated that), a few glimpses of my grandparents (my favorite was Grandma, who used to tirelessly make food all day despite asking her not to). Then used to be pandal hopping, with two weird families, I absolutely disliked. And the worst part, I would not be asked for any decision be food or location or clothes.
Then came my college days, wherein I tried mingling with a few friends initially again with some compromise because the other people would selfishly not go to the most famous locations with me as they always had that planned out in their respective school groups. So even if it was the most fun I ever had during pujas, I had to compromise on location, time and food almost all the time.
Then came the afterlife, where college friends are in another city, school friends non-existent, parents barely home (off with their friends), brother (off to his world), and myself spending the only holidays and off days half naked alone in a 3 BHK apartment with virtually no food. The worst part? I have asked many of them if they were free to make plans with me. No one complied. It sucks to be the leftover person in everyone’s life.
I hate every ounce of the social media stream, banners, noise, and smell of festivity around me. I usually have no expectations of a social gathering, more like I avoid them. But the sheer build up every year and the subsequent disappointment is exhausting.

And yeah did I tell you, if you have a lot of time to think, you inadvertently go to that sinkhole of a question, what were you doing last year during the same time, and how are you better this time. Well, guess what? I have still made no dent in the universe. And the social media are the evil creatures that remind me of that by a “feature” (read prank) called memories.



This post first appeared on Krazicat's, please read the originial post: here

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Down the memory lane

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