Year-end in Calcutta: memories

Misty mornings, crisp chill, mellow sun, flavourful Darjeeling tea, warm buttered toast, aromatic sausage and golden omelette. Woolled-in, walk in the dew-dotted lawn while the sun is still stretching its rays, the cold mysteriously warming the cockles of the heart. An invigorating chill that makes one raise hands heavenwards, smile at the blue skies, sing and dance in an abundance of feeling. Slice of heaven. On earth. In the innocence of non-adulthood. But for me, the age label would be irrelevant. I just know I will still feel this way if I were ever to relive those golden days in Cal. Will I ever grow up? Circumstances around me certainly are overwhelmingly 'grown-up' and I seemingly sway in their embrace. ;-).
Grown-up. That was what I desperately wanted to be when at age 12 I attended my 1st New Year's Eve Ball at the Tollygunje Club and sought reassurance from family friends - the uncles & aunties - that I actually looked 16. I remember an uncle finally obliging. It was a glorious evening, a perfect 'coming-out'/prelude to teenagedom. The huge swimming pool had been evacuated, and was on that magical evening transformed to a glittering dance floor which was exclusively for the youth. There was another even bigger wooden dance floor erected on the lawns which was for everyone to jive on. Chill in the air, aroma of barbecued food wafting all around, lots of interesting people, and I was asked for a dance! And I declined! Yes. Cos the appearance of the gentleman in question was to a girl of 12 - intimidating. He was attired from head to toe in black leather, had jet black hair and a black mustache. I was in a long blue gown trying to look dyed-in-the-wool 16, while my insides were beating to a heart and mind of a 12 year old. While I didn't have my first dance with a tall, dark & handsome stranger, I did have many others with our family friends (read: uncles, aunts ;-). After dinner, we walked ahead towards the course where the tent-pegging (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tent_pegging) was to happen. It's an out-of-the-world atmosphere. Past midnight, a group of dashing horsemen gallop up, attempting to dislodge or hook the pegs which are embedded in the ground. I don't know if they still have it as a NYEve ritual anymore, but it's a powerful touch of the past. After all that equestrian excitement we headed to the big, bright bonfire sinking into the seats in front of the blaze, warming our well-chilled selves and sipping hot chocolate. A true molten gold experience.
If memory serves me right, we also tucked into an English breakfast in the early hours before heading home! ;-)
A treat for the senses, and for a 12 yr old, a Cinderalla-at-the-ball high!