Colours of Life

Winter of Delhi has come to an end. Its time to roll back your blankets and give your fleece, jackets , pullovers to your local dry cleaners and pack them back in the corners of your wardrobe. Now, the people of Delhi would be getting ready to welcome spring and to celebrate Holi with colours, symbolizing the victory of good over evil

This festival of Holi had some relationship with what is going to occur in my life in few weeks. Of course, there is room for skepticism. The question is: Would there be colours- of joy, excitement and satisfaction? Would the flowers of the plant, I sowed with the seeds of my hard work, bloom to life? Would it be, as my dad says, golden throne (I always don’t agree with his metaphor) or the same tattered chair that I sit on with my books?

Yes, those who had regularly followed my posts here(I guess there should be one or two) would know that the results to the civil service (Mains) Exam that I gave in Nov ’06, is just around the corner. Anytime between 9th and 12th of march. I know, I cannot boast of an outstanding performance in each one of the 7 papers (leaving out the language papers). But I earnestly believe and hope it was decent enough to skirt myself through to the next stage of the selection process- interview.

While my days lingered on, waiting for the results, I had indulged myself in profligate spending of time. And money too. I spent the entire month of December at home, as my books gathered dust here. Thanks mom, I weigh 5 kgs extra now. (2 months of tasteless food,back here in delhi, hasn’t really helped my to lose them.). Luckily, the course I had joined with British Council brought me back to Delhi. But my miseries did not end there. Dhoom 2, Guru, Parzania, Trafic signal, rocky Balbao. There goes 5*130 down the drain. And don’t ask me about the off season sale here. I almost a burnt a hole in my pocket, though I din’t shop much. It was only my friend Sudheer, whom I had accompanied, who was on the inexorable shopping spree.

But there was one thing that gave me solace. I was sincere in reading my daily newspaper, The Hindu, which is like oxygen to IAS-aspirants. And it did not help much as I had scored meagerly low in the mock test I had taken, putting to end whatever fulfillment I had in life. ( To be on the safer side or to be prepared for the worst, I need to spruce up for the next round of preliminary exams) My institute director, whom I consider as my mentor, reprimanded me. It was clear to me that he was disillusioned with my performance and my lethargic approach. I felt ashamed and hated myself. But there he was again convincing me that all is not lost, there is still hope and wished me good luck for the results. I walked out of his suite with a clear agenda in mind, at least, until my results.

To many, I know, this would sound like a confession of a man stung by guilt. You are righteously entitled to consider so. And now I have something to look forward to in life like every man who has walked out of the confession box. While people of Delhi prepare themselves with colours for Holi I would be waiting for the new colours to paint my life with joy and jubilation. Happy Holi, to all those.