Gol Gappas

Sweet November. I am not talking about the movie, the month itself has always felt sweet if you live in India, especially in Delhi. Love seems to be in the air, festivities everywhere, warm clothes finally out of the closet, blazers back at office, no need for oil on the skin, and somehow you look smarter and feel more energetic. You want to walk for longer, read a little more, eat a little more, sleep a little cozier under the blanket, and how could I forget, the dark rum.

Festivities, did I really just use that word? Yes, and that is the beauty of living in a country like this. I sometimes think it is this endless string of festivals, one or another every couple of months, that keeps us going the way we do. Somewhere between thirty and fifty major ones dot the calendar here by most counts, and that is without even counting all the smaller regional ones. It keeps us social, gives us a reason to meet, eat, and let our stress go for a while, in a way I do not see as much of when I read about other countries. Diwali has always been my favourite of them all, and I suspect it is for most of us. As I type this, I can hear children out in the street lanes, bursting crackers and making a happy racket.

It was an ordinary pre Diwali day at work, everyone dressed in ethnic wear, nobody quite in the mood to work, decorations up everywhere, and the usual creative emails going around wishing everyone a happy Diwali. Like every year, I forgot to wear the one ethnic outfit I own, and ended up looking a little out of place, though far more comfortable than I would have been in a kurta pyjama anyway.

Then a lovely voice echoed through the speakers in the cafeteria and across the bays, announcing, Diwali snacks are ready in the cafeteria, please help yourselves, and wishing everyone a very happy Diwali. It was announced twice, but it kept echoing in my ears long after.

Being the manager of a large team helps on such occasions. The younger ones queue up eagerly, and you barely have to struggle to get what you want, they will happily fetch it for you. That is how I ended up getting a plate of gol gappas for a lady as well. She was so lovely to look at that the gol gappas never tasted quite so delicious before.

This is probably what makes this Diwali different for me. Do not read too much into it, and do not be disappointed that I am holding back my romantic self at a moment when you would all want me to go ahead. I am sorry, but have you not heard that secret lovers always remain secret. Perhaps that is also why they remain single. In any case, here is one of the sweetest little rhymes I have ever written, straight from the heart.