Honestly, I never celebrated this occasion of relentless
drama and consumerism in my whole life. Even when my status was ‘in a
relationship’. The poor guy would be returned with a scornful lecture of the
futility and superficiality of Valentine’s Day if he (or, they) made the
mistake of wishing me. The hopeless losers whose eyes were set on me would
receive verbal punches. I don’t do love like regular folks, baby. And yet, I gotta
tell you guys. This year I had my best Valentine’s Day. Ever. Nope, there was
no man. (Two people wished me this year and both were women.) No sex. No kiss. No
stupid and overpriced crap from Archies’. I was all alone in a city quite far
away from home. And yet…..
Should I start from the morning? No, I think I had better
start from the previous evening. It was Maha Shivratri on 13th here.
My parents raised me a goddamn pain-in-the-ass feminist so I have never been
among the ladies keeping fast and praying to Lord Shiva for existing husbands
or prospective ones. I hope I will be able to keep that status quo in tact till
I die. But as I said many times recently, there’s a subtle change in me these
days. So this year I took part in the celebration. And Shivratri is a grand occasion
here at Mahakal Temple. I don’t know if it was the heavy smell of pot all over
the temple premises or just my inner happiness, but I was over the moon the
whole time. From standing in the queue till devouring the Prasad. (It was
delicious by the way. Khichdi, aloo dum,
puri, churma, kheer, jalebi and papad.) And there was practically no spot
left on my forehead for another teeka.
And all the while I couldn’t help but recall what had happened exactly a year
back. The best thing about arrogance is that the inevitable irony when it
shatters into pieces. And you are halfway there if the irony brings a silent
chuckle to your face instead of humiliation. I did throw a quick chuckle at
Lord Shiva while prostrating amidst a sea of milk and mulched petals. He is the
funniest of all; he would know.
My Valentine’s Day started with another puja. This time it
was down below, at the Bhutia Busty Monastery. It was the puja of Gonpo
Pernagchen or Mahakala. It is new moon tomorrow and the day after tomorrow is
Lhosar, the Tibetan New Year. Lord Mahakala’s puja usually takes place on the 29th day of the last Lunar month as per the Tibetan almanac. He is this
super wrathful deity who is the protector of all sentient beings. Hence the
Buddhists end their old year worshiping him to ward off all the bad luck so
that the New Year begins with new hope. The custom is to bring a handful of
rice and some coins and offer it to the effigy. And then make wishes. Mr. B,
the ex-employee of my office and a member of the monastery committee was there
as always guiding me through. A small session at his home after attending the
puja was bonus. He knows a great deal about Vajrayana and the history of the
region. And I listened with all my heart.
After coming home I made my first ever fish curry. Two days
back I had fallen terribly sick with sudden fever and a possible food poisoning
so my mother asked me to keep it low-key. And even with almost no spices the
fish curry turned out to be so tasty that my friend D told me to give myself a
pat in the back. Hot steaming rice with fish curry while watching TV in bed –
the best Valentine’s Day feast ever.
And just when I was thinking the day couldn’t get any
better, it started raining. Which immediately followed by a power-cut. With nothing
else to do I lit a cigarette and stood on my balcony, watching Darjeeling
getting drenched in a sudden and untimely rain. When the last train for the day
was slowly entering the station and the black smoke coiling out of it was
getting mixed with the hazy layer of rain I wasn’t sure if it was the effect of
my Black Hitler or just normal euphoria. An hour later when the downpour settled into a steady drizzle and light returned I again stepped out in the balcony. People had gathered
around at the station and they were shouting. Phone flashes were going off around. I
squinted through the dark and realized why. Under the new moon sky Darjeeling
was looking unbelievably white. Hailstorm. It was past 7.30 and I knew the
narrow alleyway from my house leading down the station would be very very dark.
But I didn’t care. I dressed up, took my umbrella and headed off into the dark.
The entire road was covered in a thick layer of little ice balls. It was damn
slippery and my running shoes were making crunching noise. They were eating popsicles
under my feet.
When I came back to my room the tip of my nose was very red
and my whole body was shaking with the sudden surge of adrenaline. I did say that once you start believing in something the universe will bend itself backward to make it manifest.
Yes, the best Valentine’s Day
ever.
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