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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=411333" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sankraanti</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Those three days of <br>Sankraanti every year<br>from the times i've known<br>it was as if the house was <br>flodded with people from<br>all walks of life and we were<br>designers, architects and land-scapers<br> <br>into the late hours returned dad<br>from his endless hours of work<br>and then the night would come alive<br> <br>trunks of dolls carefully wrapped<br>in our swaddling clothes were carefully<br>spread on beds n blanktes-porcelean <br>english lady that grandma brought from<br>her maternal home, birth of jesus with <br>mary and joseph on either side of the baby-bed, <br>two variants of rama, sita, laxman and hanuman<br>dasavataaras, brahmins at a meal, toddy tapper, <br>ravenous crow, kirana merchant n his wfe, bowl of fruits, <br>birds in delicate transperant glass-you name it, it's there<br>and down below on either side were landscaped parks, forests, <br>hospital, dotted with lanes of sprouted methis n mustrad...<br> <br>somehow dad had fascination only for the white procelean <br>and none of those earthern gods in synthetic paint<br> <br>every year would be added a new doll<br>all dolls collected over thirty years and now<br>when i count the years, they're by now sixty plus<br>sadly locked up in trunks and palced on the attic...<br>the last even i recall was some twnety years ago<br>when our own children were barely two years...<br> <br>all innovation and appropriate techology we learnt<br>observing dad arranging some six to eight rows <br>with every wooden plank to bricks and stoned from the road-side<br>to rice tins and travel trunks precariously balancing all the dolls...<br> <br>people came all the three days<br>to recieve 'taambulam' and praised<br>the dolls endlessly and finally declare<br>'doctor ji has four dolls, why these again! '<br>and we would laugh shyly and see them off<br> <br>the fourth day was a sad farewell to the dolls<br>once again wrapped carefully back into the trunk...<br> <br>life was simple, fun, and there was so much to look forward to...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Indira+Babbellapati">Indira Babbellapati</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=411333" data-title="Sankraanti de Indira Babbellapati" data-description="Those three days of 
Sankraanti every year
from the times i've known
it was as if the house was 
flodded with people from
all walks of life and we were
designers, architects and land-scapers
 
into the late hours returned dad
from his endless hour..."></div>
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