Back up plans so damn important
Ha..ha..ha..
I
made a peanut out of myself.
Throughout the last week, I had so many
opportunities to organize a gala Lohri night and see here I was.
Gasping,
what to do.
In fact,
by seven in the evening I was pretty sure that we were joining that central
park gathering in our society, but when my hubby dear started cribbing just
after returning from his hospital, I realized something drastic had happened to
spoil sport.
I frantically
checked with the neighbors and got to know that each one of them had their own plans
and none was as unprepared as we were.
In
fact, what actually happened was that somebody had died in a flat adjacent to
that celebration spot and it seemed inappropriate to the organizing members to
carry on with the original plans.
It had never happened in all these years but
unfortunately it had to happen when we pitched in.
I hardly
expected this so I had no back up plan to fall on and the hubby was mad. He was
furious.
This was the main festival every Punjabi waits for.
Oh!
News to me!
Punjabis
just need a reason to eat, drink, spend, splurge and make merry and they need occasion or no occasion for that. They are always ON.
Well
my mind started doing overtime.
Chicken
came out of the freezer. It was icy cold and could not behave normal before two
hours.
Snacks
were ready so we broke a spare door kept on the terrace for repairs and broken
it into small tiny pieces because this was not the time to go timber shopping.
Tiny
wood pieces were gathered from every nook and corner and made a little way for
my spring cleaning also. We gathered everything together on the terrace in that
windy chilly cold night (which was actually evening but seemed like night) and
using some spirit, set the fire.
Hurray!
I was
skeptical.
Had
my mother-in-law was here, she could have surely gone crazy seeing us setting
the auspicious fire with spirit, which is generally done with cotton, mustard
oil and camphor etc.
Everything
tastes delicious in a cold night around a bonfire with your loved ones.
The amber were cozy warm. We couldn't let the energy go waste.
We put two big potatoes in between to roast which we will relish hot in the morning.
Yummy!
Splutter…splatter…this
is what made us open our eyes in the dark morning.
It was
raining outside.
Real rain.
Big cold drops of water coming from the heaven.
God
sent.
Heaven was so generous on us, but why?
Our
Potatoes!
Hot
Roasted Potatoes!
What
happened to them!
Oh
No!
One
more plan failed.
Dripping
black potatoes were dug out of the ashes and buried in the dustbin.
One
more expectation foiled.
Never mind I am used to it.
When
one plan fails, it gives a reason to our mind to search for more information with
which we can make a substitute plan super ready.
Just
we need to have our antennae ready to receive the signals of go ahead plans.
I
am always open to spoiled plans; they give me more to ponder about.
What
about you?
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