A FEW MARIGOLDS & A NEW BEGINNING !
   Date :22-Mar-2023

GUDI PADWA
 
 
By Biraj Dixit :
 
Just like that
 
SEWED perfectly in a neat string, those bright yellow and orange marigolds dangling in unison with green mango leaves gave my otherwise stoicdooravibranthue.Onthefloor, an equally dazzling display of colourful designs and patterns demanded appreciation, and so theirmakerobligedonlytoohappily.ItisbelievedthattheGoddess ofgoodfortunelikesvibrancy.She loves to walk inside the threshold which is beautiful and carrying spring’s colours. She likes things auspicious… like happiness. “Wow,Mumma,lovely!”Mylittle goddess of good fortune walked in smiling from ear to ear. She is the spring – chirpy, colourful, vibrant. Though growing fast into a young lady, she still retains her child-like exuberance. Like all things auspicious, happiness comes easily to her and she spreads the infection around. Her present bigger-than-laughter smile was the result of her own triumph at setting things right. She and her father had set the stage to usherin the New Year. Atop a high post, decorated with garlands of mango, neem leaves and marigolds, was their red‘flag’.The generouswindhadpouredlife into it and it danced merrily. Imagine the power of a few marigoldsandsomeleaves!Theyhadturned everything vibrant, welcoming and auspicious. In the calendar, the day was marked in bold red - Chaitra Pratipada, Gudhi Padwa.Anew yearbegan.Theusual sunrise, similarmornings, samedoor,yet,theceaselesslymovinglifeseemed to have taken a pause. It is believed that on this day eons ago, Lord Brahma created the universe.
 
Since He was the onlybeingthen,Hemusthave doneitinnotime. Rest of beings, He blessed with families just to make sure that even the simplest of things can never again be done ‘in no time’. Like the big bang, my home, too, turns upside down before making itself presentable to any incoming power – human or Divine. So, after hours of push and pull, my home was finally ready to welcome the New Year. Everything was in its place again – dear husband’s good humour, my composure and my princess’ smile. In a minute, we had discarded the old for the new – after the commotion,wehad set ouruniverse inorder aswe gravitated to the little idol inthe‘puja’ roomto praise Almighty for His kindness and to seek blessings so that our Universe like that of Lord Brahma’s sail through all turbulence and nurture life in all its auspiciousness. Festivalsareamust – to take apausefromthehumdrumof life and smile at all our countless blessings. This was a scene from a year before, and before that and, yes, in all certainty,ayear before that onetoo.Routine,youmightthink. Ohno, it’s just similarlydifferent. Practices may be the same, year after year, the enthusiasm, the joy and the satisfaction is absolutely new, fresh.
 
The sunhas just risen to spread its gold in the sky. It isanew day, again a time to prepare for welcoming good fortune and to spread auspiciousness. I remember days when we jokedaboutthelavishspreadoffestivalsthroughoutthe year in India.We celebrate days, months, seasons,seasonaldays,Uttarayan,Dakshinayan, Pournima,Amavasya….’soonandsoforth.Every now and then a day, with its peculiarities, comes to ‘disturb our well-established routine.’ “What is there in the routine to remain so well-established?” my mother had questioned frowning at ourlack of enthusiasm forfestivals. “They come as a reminder of the minuteness and majesty of our existence. They remind us of how wonderful we are,” she would say, allowing us calmer reflections.“All these tithis are knowledgewoven in existence. They are not about ‘learn and forget,’ but about experiencing….” “You denizens of cities, urbane as you may be, but do make yourselfawareofwhat springdoes toearth.Don’t think about it, experience it. Here, take these marigolds and make a garland,” she would say, thus assigning to us an undesirable task, rather philosophically. That’s how I learnt that mothers should keep pouring wisdom in children ignoring their wisecracks. You may never know when a child grows big enough to understand them. But grow, they will,andwillsomedayorother,likefestivals,understand the volume and worth of maternal advice. Stuck deeply into years and years of ‘wellestablished routine,’ I often become desperate for times when I could rescue myself from it. I crave for new beginnings. …And here is Padwa, thenewbeginning.A timenotjusttocount years but also count growth – of understanding the wisdomsoftheyore,offeelingthespring,ofadmiring the yellow, orange marigolds with mango leaves on the door.