Nescience

March is a really unfortunate month for me. The exams are steadily drawing near and all I want to do is not study. Happens to the best of us, I guess. I blame the weather, really! January and February are too frigid and cold, April and May are hot and sweaty...but March - it's perfect. It's not too hot, nor too cold, and the sky is a perfect never-ending blue. The birds are chirping, and there is laughter, and long, languid evenings spent out on the terrace with the family. The madness of March hits me out of the blue, and makes crave ice cream, and long drives, pani puri and the company of friends, and makes me want to fall in love with a person, a serial, a book, or a song. It makes me want to paint (though I haven't lifted a brush for the last 3 years), and sing (my music teacher from school liked me better with my mouth shut) and write (even though the exams are drawing near) and do all sorts of wonderful crazy things. But I can't. I have to pull out my te...

Rangapanchmi just passed me by. This year, I was one of those sad, desolate faces hanging around by the window, spying on the people playing colours in the street below. I got up as usual, and dragged my economics text book on the table, and spent ten solid minutes looking up at the sky. And then there were shouts and giggles, and of course I had to investigate the source (rather than accept the inevitable and read about Planning in India). There was a small group of people in varying shades of maroon, blue, green and yellow on the street and were shrieking with laughter as they drenched each other and threw colours. I will not deny it. I felt a twinge of jealousy. Was it really so bad, that I was cooped up in the house on a glorious March morning, while all my friends from school and my sister were off gallivanting with their friends from college. It is understandable, really, and I do want to be all mature and grown up about it, but sometimes, I feel like an outsider. They go ...