I woke up drenched with the cold water poured by my brother. Such activities usually made me go mad, but not this day. It was Holi, my favourite festival.

I used to stay at my Mama’s house in those days and we had made special plans to go around Chabahil to enjoy Holi that year. We eagerly headed towards Maijubahal. We were armed with lolas (water balloons) and threw them at whoever we saw on our way.

We got hundreds of lolas thrown at us, and by the time we were on our way back we were as colourful as the rainbow.

We had great fun, but before reaching home something weird happened. Some of the neighbourhood boys poured enamel paint over me. Though I despaired, I decided that such an act should not be taken quietly. So I went on to their terrace and poured the leftover enamel over them.

Back home I showered a number of times, but the enamel in my hair could not be washed off. My family had organised a small feast for all our relatives and neighbours that day. I wore a cap to the feast and enjoyed the party.

However, as the enamel could not be washed even after a number of days, I had to get my hair cut short like a boy’s. But despite that it has been the best Holi that I’ve had till now.