060421-the Sleep of the Drugged

It is Holi.. Mom and Da call and update me as they celebrate back home.. and I reminisce.. Choti (small) Holi at the Gorakhpur Club with my grandparents.. a giant bonfire (made even bigger by the fact that I was but six and a half years old).. the ladies are dressed in their finest silks.. the men in very pukka attire.. we kids have long since given up any pretence of being well bred or born.. a bowl with dough is passed around.. my wondrous grandmother brings me some as I dance around the fire.. she gently instructs me on how I must rub it all over my body so that it may rub off the sins of the year past.. when I am done she murmurs an incantation.. puts hers into my hands and instructs me to thrown it in.. and lo.. our sins are cleared away.. purified by that purest of the pure.. Fire.. I look up and see her face as it is catches the brilliant golden and red reflections.. and I feel that nothing I possibly may have done can ever effect me if I am wrapped in the love of One so beautiful and serene.. my beautiful Grandmother..

cut to New Delhi a few years ago.. I visit India during Holi after a long time.. it is celebrated with the entire clan at A Mama’s home.. he lives in an enclave where I spent part of my childhood.. my grandparents house was there.. I got my first swimming lesson in the Club Pool with a toad of an instructor.. my first serious romance.. the very trees whisper tales of our family history.. my uncle has had a special pool dug in the gardens of his home and it is filled with coloured rose scented water.. as we prepare to set out from our home.. I remember my bhang filled holis in architecture school and with a little mischief in my mind decide to make some thandai for the party.. I retrace my footsteps to the back stores where I had bought the ingredients many moons before.. the owner.. noticing my attire refuses to give me anything but his most distilled version.. I ask him the quantities to be mixed and he provides me with a calculation.. back home the servants run back and forth as I demand from them the ingredients which must go into my concoction.. finally it is prepared.. we oil our entire bodies and hair.. get into our oldest clothes and finally set forth.. I am armed with colours and pigments of all kinds.. I want it to be a true holi homecoming.. the scene at A Mama’s home is riotous.. there are four year olds to hundred year old grandmothers all running around wishing everyone Happy Holi and applying liberal amounts of colour on each other.. cousins and aunts are being dunked in the coloured pool.. my mother with her mischievous smile has got along a mixture of henna disguised as colour.. she applies this liberally on all my white haired uncle’s heads.. when they wake up tomorrow.. they will be unable to get the colour off for at least a month.. I start to ladle my thandai concoction to all and sundry.. everyone has drunk at least a glass full.. and I many more.. soon enough all mayhem breaks loose.. not realizing the potency of the distilled bhang I had mixed liberally.. everyone from the youngest to the oldest are hallucinating.. as I am.. our worst fears are realized as are our most extreme thoughts.. grand mothers are shipwrecked.. cousins are giving birth.. others are drowning.. A Mama is seeing doctors.. I myself am going through an endless cycle of repetition.. my last action becomes my first in an endless cycle.. and it does not stop.. for hours and hours.. I am spent.. I am wrecked.. I am anxious.. I am broken.. yet the drug is within me and will not let go.. all I can do is retrace my steps again.. and again.. and then repeat.. endlessly.. as the sun ebbs.. my brain is still being held captive.. Mom by a superhuman effort herds us into the car and we drive in a daze.. in silence back home.. that night I sleep the sleep of the dammed.. and that I am.. as the next day dawns.. I am shaken awake.. and through my stupor made to apologize to every family member who was present.. and their relations who were not.. and anyone who might have been.. and their great grandmothers.. the lesson.. never think that you may repeat the mischief’s of your youth.. for one.. the price has gone up radically.. people somehow never sell you the same damn stuff they sold for a rupee before.. they sell you extra distilled.. extra special.. extra pure.. guaranteed to get you to oblivion stuff.. for a hundred times the price.. and what is more you buy it like a fool.. because you can actually afford it now.. but I remember for a moment.. and yes there was just a tiny little moment there.. when the drug just hit.. everyone was transported.. albeit momentarily.. to another blissful plane.. most had never been there before and I reckon most never will.. but I am sure it was a unique moment in their lives.. some of my aunts still chide me as to when I am going to get them a fix again..

at work I claim I am sick beyond belief and recuperating.. in reality I am airborne and a thousand feet above ground.. headed to CO.. Bu welcomes me and our snowboards in a monster of a car and we head through the canyons to the snow heavy mountains beyond.. Copper is blissful.. our energies were a match for the mountain once we got acclimatised to the altitude.. two miles above sea level.. we followed our skier Colorado friend on a cross country trail from one mountain to the next on a path not wider than the width of my left hand.. midway I slip and desperately try to dig my board into the snow.. and then the arduous climb back up to the ‘trail’.. I am half dead by the time I am up.. and then there is no one in sight but an absolutely obscene expanse of snow and a thin trail leading to gawd knows where.. I breathe deeply.. and carry on.. needless to say I persevered.. we found a deeper snow.. a higher high.. a steeper triple black.. a crazier knee shattering – jaw chattering mogul slope.. we died and came back to life.. we were exhausted beyond belief and were rejuvenated beyond what any elixir could have the power to do..

in the evening we melt into a spring of sulphur.. the large pools are shrouded in the mists rising from the water.. bodies emerge engulfed in a white flame.. our hearts beat a million miles per hour.. it must be the effect of the hot sulphur water.. it is tranquil and at the same time terribly exhausting..

we drive down the deserted streets of this sulphur town searching for a place to eat and come upon a ‘french’ place.. it is awful.. we peck at our food.. spit out the wine.. and stumble out.. and lo.. we have our Midwest experience.. we have a UFO sighting.. right in the middle of Main Street.. Sulphurville.. Bu points it out to me and we are transfixed.. it is truly spectacular.. we make a silent communication with that satellite from the heavens and head to bed..

the next day dawns life a promise.. and it more than fulfils it.. we are airborne on our boards at Aspen.. we speed through full forests very Star War’s like.. avoiding and falling into vortexes.. we try our skills on rapids except that the rapids are mounds of snow.. we glide through the glades and the light and the shadows create an every changing tapestry of white and dark in our path.. we laugh like children and cry in the ecstasy of the moment.. we are silent and yet our souls are overwhelmed by the sublimity of it all..

the highest of the highest is open but only approachable by a strange hangar contraption.. easy for skiers to latch onto.. but a nightmare for snowboarders.. we hold on for dear life.. it tries to shake us free.. but we hold on.. it shrugs us away.. but we persevere.. on our knees.. our arms numb and crying.. we hold on.. our breath is fast and irregular.. our shoulders no longer exist.. but we hold on.. as we reach the top.. that unfeeling hangar whips us away.. and we are there.. and it is spectacular.. there are few besides us.. and the beauteous snow is all around.. and so is a white crown of mountains.. we are truly in heaven.. snow heaven.. boarding heaven.. we take a few to capture the moment and then proceed to make our own stamp on Aspen.. we head down ninety degree cliffs.. snow which would surely submerge us if we stopped.. we are crazy.. we are mad.. we have no fear.. we are ecstatic.. and it is the greatest ride in the world..

there are times when the body has had enough.. it creaks and it croaks.. but it is driven to extremes extraordinaire by the circumstances.. this one such.. our bodies existed no more.. they were spent beyond belief.. but our energies were reawakened beyond belief.. the mountains.. the snow.. nature.. the company.. the physical acts of utter and extreme madness.. created a high that was like no other.. indiscernible.. indescribable.. almost unreal.. except that we felt it.. and were energised beyond belief by it..

that night we sleep the Sleep of the Drugged.. we have been drugged with over stimulation.. over happiness.. over reaching.. over ecstasy.. there is no feeling.. no thought.. no words.. no more.. we are on a High.. and it is au naturale..

we drive back through the canyons of CO.. they are much contoured.. the moon plays hide and seek with the ridges.. the roads twist and turn at their whim.. and we sing songs we have sung many time before.. but with a new voice..

we reach family.. my brother Gautamese.. his wife Meetu.. my aunt Rani.. and I meet for the first time my beauteous niece Maahika.. I am instantly on edge.. I am not good with children.. but it is somehow she who interprets the common blood that flows through our veins.. and she puts me at my ease.. she is but six months old.. and yet her gaze as she looks at me is almost Lama ic.. we spend hours in her company playing cards.. she is the second girl born in our house after a long long spell.. and she personifies the qualities of the women of our house.. beauty with might.. I am spell bound.. we are treated like kings.. fed like there is no tomorrow.. and enveloped in a warmth that only Family can give..

sadly we bid farewell to this Heaven.. the parting is as if in a play.. the luminescent canopies of Denver Airport call out to the snows and in the backdrop the mountains in their snow armour.. the skies stage a virtual play in colours.. it is beauty beyond belief.. manmade and natural.. we are spell bound.. we have been ever since we landed.. and the spell is not yet released.. and we are its willing subjects..

How.. you ask.. does One return to New York after a ride such as that.. and I say.. that the rides here are created by us for our own pleasures and highs.. and I would say that our life here makes us more acute and appreciative of the worlds that we visit..

Well.. it has been a few since these events happened.. but their memory and their energies recharged us for a spell..

I do not know how to end this one.. but there is no end.. only continuance.. and continue we shall..