It’s my first Holi in Delhi and that it’s an explosion on my senses, is an understatement.
It’s a frenzied pandemonium of colours.
Bright crimsons flirt with fluorescent pinks. Electric greens complement shy violets.
Colours arrive in varied textures – entire packets of gulaal are emptied till the powder sends me into fits of sneezing; nondescript pellets are dissolved in water and poured over till I am dripping wet, brash pichkaris and an assortment of Holi guns fire indiscriminately at me and balloons filled with coloured water are hurled when I least expect the missile.
But by far the most lethal is when the colours are added to what feels like some spurious oil and smeared on my face by a pair of clandestine hands that have stalked me in stealth and sprung suddenly out of nowhere.
I am no longer myself.
There’s no holding back.
I surrender to the euphoria that’s Holi.
There’s song and dance, mirth and laughter, camaraderie and cordiality.
Oh, and a sinful feast to satiate the taste buds.
Gujiyas are gorged by the dozens.
Mischievous chaats tease my palate.
Bhang-laced thandai flow for the adventurous few who are keen to explore, I guess, the sublime.
And it’s lassi flavoured with thandai masala for the more sober ones.
A decade has flown.
It’s not the same revelry for Holi any longer. Some years back I even stopped doing colours.
And as for Holi feasts, I have started watching sugars, not just mine but for the family.
But how can a Holi pass without a Thandai ?
I stand wondering how best to do justice to my aromatic thandai masala while not inviting a sugar rush.
And that’s when it strikes me – why not try a thandai kebab ?
Thandai Kebab. Succulent paneer. A kiss of fresh cream. A fragrant smear of thandai masala. A hint of black peppercorn for those who love the heat. Pan-grilled till a gorgeous golden.
This is divine !!!
My Thandai Kebab – a must try when spring is still in the air and that bottle of thandai masala you lovingly made just a week back still adorns your kitchen shelves.