Bad day

There was this nice, happy time once.
A time when I liked Holi.

I fucking hate Holi now.
I mean, really. Do people have to go around on scooters banging eggs into other people's heads? Or into my head?
Or grease covered balloons on my tuition books when I'm right outside my tuition center?

Ah, tuition. That reminds me. I have a new batch. No, no 60 kids sitting in two neat gender based sections this time. It gets better. 6 guys one side, and thy mighty me in the corner on one edge. Woe betide me if I dare tread their side *mock horror*, they will swiftly push their chairs away as far as they can. Woe betide me if I dare initiate a conversation, I am the other species. Woe betide you if you ask me a doubt, the others will stare. And woe betide me if I dare suggest you take my notebook instead of trying to copy the answer discreetly whenever you think I'm not looking.
But I digress.
This is a Holi rant, isn't it?
My neck hurts. The guy was too late with the egg, it burst in his hand, and it was the hand that hit me. I'm strong right? I went ahead till I reached home, shaken but stoic. I walked in, where no one noticed anything since they were too busy with the telly. I'm still strong, so I went upstairs, where my mum told me to take a rickshaw back next time onwards, and get the stink out of my head. I'm really, really strong, so I went to the bathroom to get everything washed out, and as I locked the door, it was only then that I started crying.
Damn.
Bad day.


PS : If you dare comment saying,"Bura na maano, Holi hai;" I will personally roast you alive.