The post's name is Riya’s version of Independence Day! :P My first financially independent Independence Day and probably the loneliest one. The last 22 years of 15th August has always been fun. Well not exactly 22 of them, I don’t remember the first 4-5 ones. But after that, 15th August always meant Papa’s office. I invariably had a fight with ma in the morning. My argument, “It’s a holiday, let me sleep” and ma’s counter-argument, “Papa’s office will wait for you to wake up and then hoist the flag?” Wearing a new dress, decking up and then turning up at dad’s office to sing the national anthem followed by a generally bad breakfast (I hate samosas that’s why) and a lovely lunch. I remember the day I tripped and scratched my knees inside the factory. I had cried like I had broken every bone in my body and ended up being the center of attention. At Vesuvius, there used be fishing sessions and I never managed to catch a single one. L But at the end of the day, the security people always gave me 5-6 fishes to take home. J
Independence Day at Durgapur: It was first year and we were hardly 20 days in the college. The previous night, all the seniors had threatened us as to how our lives would be at stake if we didn’t turn up for the march past. My usual excuse was given “I am not allowed to do march past for medical reasons”. Tani, Abhi and Som had cursed me a lot, am sure! :P They had to wake up by 6 and get ready in white salwaar kameezes. To add to their woes, I was still sleeping when they came back all exhausted after the march past. So to avenge themselves they turn up with the stupidest tale on earth. “Deblee Deblee! You should have come! Rahul was in charge of distributing Oranges! You could have met him.” Ha Ha Ha!! God I miss you people!
Today’s a rain washed 15th August. At times the skies reflect my mood like a mirror. All I have done so far is wash clothes, iron clothes, wash the bathroom and sweep the room. Luckily the pg mess has prepared egg curry for lunch. Something to make me happy but most of the others are angry. They don’t have/like eggs. But eggs or no eggs, I always cry during meals. Now I am not that big melodramatic person- I know I hate it here so far and I hate the food. But the tears are not for that. Its courtesy the generosity with which the people add chili powder and chopped green chilies to their food here! At least am in a better off position than Vish. Poor boy has to go to office today! Have a Happy Independence Day everyone! Cheers!