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The Procession That Passed - Sandhya Acharya Sandhya Acharya is presently studying MBA at the University of Notre Dame, Indiana, USA. She explains her view of life with - "My friends call me Dream Girl, because I dream a lot. I believe that dreams sustain your today and build your tomorrow."

March 16th. A day before St.Patricks day. An Irish celebration. I was in Chicago to watch and partake in the celebrations. The Chicago river would be turned green the colour of the celebration and there would be parades down the city. It has been seven months now in the USA for me now. It was the first time I got to see a mass celebration to this magnitude. It is amazing how when you learn new things, your past and your memories get enmeshed into your present experiences. An old colleague and friend from India, my new friends from around the world, we made fine company. Sometimes the lines between novelty and nostalgia seem to get blurred in your consciousness and you can only savor those moments when it happens.

We waited long in the cold for the river to be splashed with green. I remembered the colours splashed during Holi. All over the place. All kinds of colours. Presently cries of jubilation broke the mild droning of voices of the crowd. Boats motored along with several barrels of green and in a few minutes the water shone a bright green. The sun seemed to reflect green, the windows of the high rise buildings around seemed to reflect green.

We moved on for a quick coffee before we could watch the procession. Starbucks, today. Yesterday, after making a quick rounds of the Ganpati statues around Matunga, Bombay we would rush to Mani's and drink the brewed coffee with Dosa and its own special Chutney. The tables and chairs would be dirty, wiped by anna with a cloth. Sometimes in the monsoon, flies would gather and be waved away, but the taste was worth all the trouble. Whoever said you miss only the good things? There are times when you miss even the dirt, the grime, the sweat and the confusion for it is a part of you and your identity. Café Mocha, that was what I had ordered and the aroma seemed to put back the energy in us. We headed out towards where the Parade would pass through now with maps. I never used maps in India. I would just stop and ask the chowkidar or the paanwala. Here, it is different. Independence is valued in things like finding your own way or filling your own gasoline. Independence is valued by the young who move out or by the old who live their own separate lives with dignity.

The procession started. People dressed in green attires- green beads, green suits, watched and cheered the parades as they passed by. Enthusiastic volunteers from different organizations waved to the crown in their carts. There was festivity and magic in the air. I remembered the huge Ganpati processions that would pass by. We would rush out and watch mesmerized as crowds danced and cheered as they proceeded with the clay statues.

The noise, the togetherness the enthusiasm of these processions has a joy unique to it. Now the crowd petered down. People were leaving. The river still shone green, but the euphoria had died. My ears were still ringing with the voices of today's celebrations and were melting now with the echoes from my past. As I closed my eyes, I saw the procession passing by in all its splendor and sheen. I let it pass. Let the experiences pass through me and become one with the other memories I had treasured through my years. Today was a great day. I had not only lived my present but also relived my past.

Till we connect again...

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