There were unlit Holi bonfires; the police must be angry because people damage the trees and phone lines in vicinity of these bonfires; or maybe it was due to bad wood that didn't burn properly.
There was a dead body at the square, the one near the temple near the railway line. There was a fat man who, like a ragdoll, was slouched against the electricity pole. His face was all smashed up, such that neither me nor S could call him human, and he wasn't moving. Our eyes were fixed on him as we passed the square. My friend asked me to take a picture; "Take a picture," he said. I didn't have a camera. After I said "good bye" to S who was going to see T and have some alcohol and pepsi cola at T's house, I returned back the same way as the dead fatso. The dead fatso moved, it was a relief to learn that he was alive. It was Bhang, obviously; Bhang is a substance that makes people go crazy. But more than the Bhang, it was what others did to him - the liberal use of paint and sprays - that had us tricked into thinking he was oozing things that make people dead.
My walk back home was more exciting. Families playing Holi had got done with it; now it was the kids who were left to focus on the innocent wayfarers passing their bungalows. I also found my predators, two kids armed with water guns with large ammo (i.e. water tanks) and balloons. This one guy went ahead of me and got splashed. I was smart - I kept myself on the heels of that person, and soon as the first wave of assault ended, I dashed for escape, the kids caught unaware in astonishment. The prey outrunning the predator. I didn't get wet. Thank heavens.
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