Unexpected encounters.

I scurry and weave my way through the crowded Mumbai streets desperately looking for a refuge from my pursuers. I can feel my heart thumping in my ears and my vision is going a little blurry. I see a side street hidden by an ancient looking cart and dive in behind it. I put my back to the cold, hard shaded wall and try to control my breathing.

A strong aroma of spices assaults my nostrils and pulls my focus sharply back to my surroundings. As I open my eyes I notice the green and purple beads of sweat dropping from my eyelashes and I wonder what I must look like.

I am suddenly confronted by an impossibly wrinkly face. The old Indian lady tending her bubbling pots looks startled and I am now under investigation. She is a kindly old girl with a mischievous glint in her eye, the kind that can only be cultivated over three quarters of a century and I am suddenly transported back to my childhood. Memories flood back of my grandmother chiding me over stolen shortbread and crumbs left sprawled across the sofa.

We stare at each other for a while until she breaks into a grin equal to that of the Cheshire Cat. She has a grand total of 5 teeth and it is evident that she likes to chew Paan (a stimulating and psychoactive treat of betel leaf combined with area nut and/or tobacco). She takes hold of my hand with both of hers and starts to shake her head knowingly.

As I open my mouth to speak our attention is drawn by 5 cheeky grinning faces which have just arrived on the street. THEY’VE FOUND ME!!! I have seconds to consider my options and decided running is no longer one of them.

I look back to the old lady and I make the sign of a prayer with my hands and bow to her in respect. I thrust my hands into my pockets and fill them with as much blue powder as they will hold, taking a deep breath I charge from my hiding spot. The street explodes in a blur of fluorescent colours. The children laugh and scream with delight and I can’t help but feel like my 8 year old self again. The dust settles and we are left looking like the aftermath of a riot in a paint shop. The kids seem satisfied with my capture and dash off to find their next prey.

As the festival day of ‘Holi’ draws to a close I am left to roam around in a daze of colour contemplating my time in India. Never before have I been met by so much joyfulness, compassion and acceptance by people who seem to have so little. I wonder quite how I will fit back into my life at home and realise, I never fully will!