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21 August 2024 at 10:20:16 am

Harvest Hopes

Gudhi Padwa, the Marathi New Year, is a celebration of renewal of homes, hearts and hopes. This year, however, the festival comes with an uninvited guest at the table: global oil prices, restless tanker routes and the uneasy hum of the Iran conflict. Since late February, the strikes and counter‑strikes involving Iran, the United States and Israel have disrupted oil and gas facilities across the Gulf, sent Brent crude above $110 a barrel and left energy markets jittery. The Strait of Hormuz, a...

Harvest Hopes

Gudhi Padwa, the Marathi New Year, is a celebration of renewal of homes, hearts and hopes. This year, however, the festival comes with an uninvited guest at the table: global oil prices, restless tanker routes and the uneasy hum of the Iran conflict. Since late February, the strikes and counter‑strikes involving Iran, the United States and Israel have disrupted oil and gas facilities across the Gulf, sent Brent crude above $110 a barrel and left energy markets jittery. The Strait of Hormuz, a narrow artery through which roughly one‑fifth of global oil and LPG normally flows, has seen tankers hesitate and shipments stall, prompting fears of prolonged supply shocks. Those distant explosions have begun to echo in Maharashtra’s kitchens and streets. Pune’s largest crematorium has temporarily halted gas‑fired pyres amid a crunch in liquefied petroleum gas (LPG) deliveries, forcing a switch to electric furnaces. Restaurants in Pune and Mumbai report tightening commercial LPG stocks and paused bookings for new cylinders, as refiners divert available gas to household supply. Even if official pronouncements insist that India’s fuel supplies remain broadly adequate, the sight of chefs trimming menus or diners queuing for gas paints a picture of anxiety that few festivals can ignore. Yet Gudhi Padwa invites a loftier perspective. Festivals are built on the promise that crises, like winter’s gloom, are temporary. Maharashtra’s streets may fret over LPG delays and nervously watch petrol price indices, but families will still parade the Gudhi with pride and hope on occasion of the Marathi New Year that markets, sooner or later, find equilibrium. A festival of new beginnings arriving amid a global energy shock underscores the fragility of everyday comforts in a connected world. The Iran conflict, by disrupting oil and gas supplies, has reminded Maharashtra how distant crises can ripple into kitchens and factories alike. Yet the Gudhi, raised high with its gleaming pot and bright vermilion, symbolises resilience. The festival is a quiet assertion that warmth, prosperity and hope are not solely dictated by external turbulence, and that with steady diplomacy and careful planning, supply disruptions can be weathered until the conflict itself reaches a resolution. Let families raise not only their Gudhis but also a measure of confidence for the months ahead. Let this New Year serve as a quiet reminder to global diplomats that conflicts, however entrenched, must be resolved with urgency and not merely for strategic stability, but for the everyday lives of people far from the battlefields. Gudhi Padwa reminds us that true prosperity lies in the shared joys of community festivals, home-cooked meals and laughter echoing through households. So while Maharashtra may for a brief while worry over petrol pumps and LPG deliveries, hope endures that the distant conflict will ease before the next harvest moon. In the end, if optimism were an energy source, it would rival crude oil as more renewable, resilient and unmistakably Marathi.

When the Princess Left Her Fortress…

Updated: Jan 2, 2025

Princess Left Her Fortress

I recently saw a movie, it had this dialogue “teenage girls are psychopaths” and maybe it is right, maybe we are a generation full of messed up kids trying to survive in this deathly jungle we’ve created for ourselves. And this survival gets harder when you’re a 16-year-old that moves into a city way bigger than their own, to ‘step into the world’ with rosy dreams and rosy expectations. I am one of those 16-year-olds, who with very romanticised notions, very naively decided to step into the ‘City of Dreams’: Mumbai.


Mumbai, is probably 10 times the size of my not very humble, but very little town. Moving to Mumbai was my dream since 1st grade, and when that dream manifested, I was on Cloud 9. I thought my life would be perfect, I’d have the perfect group of friends, I’d go to fancy parties, I’d do lots of events in college, I’d be known, I’d be in my ‘Academic Beast’ ‘It Girl’ era and what not; but reality is pretty far from any of that. Back in my town, I was the top of the hierarchy, the Perfect Girl, centre of attention, the Lovely Queen; after moving to Mumbai, my life of the last 13yrs came crashing down on me. I became this introverted, invisible person; the friends’ group or lots of parties definitely did not happen, neither did the academic beast and It girl era.


I came to realise that Mumbai, no matter how pretty, beautiful and picture-worthy, is very harsh and extremely tough. No matter how much anyone says ‘Mumbai embraces all’, the ‘All’ still do feel left out to some extent, when everyone around you is this confident Mumbai Kid and you’re this awkward girl from out of town who knows nothing about the city, its people or its ‘culture’, who’s trying to push through this humongous crowd that’s, without trying very hard, swallowing you down; but standing here, watching this city move past me, I wonder Does Mumbai really not bother about anyone Or Is it just not willing to let you in?


But there’s still something to hang on to, somewhere to belong, isn’t there? When you go back home and you have friends there; Spoiler Alert: you don’t. When I went back home for my first holiday, I realised I didn’t belong there anymore, now I was the Mumbai Girl; 13yrs lost and forgotten, within 3 months. That’s when it hit ‘I’m all alone now’ neither do I belong in Mumbai, neither do I back at home. Trust me, I have never felt more lost in my life.


I’m the kind of people who thrive on attention and external validation, to have that very thing taken from me was very hard to live with. So, I chose to cope by holding on, holding on how? Well, simple tactic, making an indirect statement saying “you excluded me, but I belong in places better than you” how I did that? I held onto my past self, my actions were based on how pretty, fun and ‘happening’ my life was to look on Instagram. I did have fun, not that I didn’t, but most of it was for the eyes of the world and not my own satisfaction [it still is that way, I haven’t gotten any better yet].


Then came my midterms, and I wasn’t as great as I thought I’d be and my extracurriculars weren’t anything major either. That made me realise that I was like any other kid around me here, unlike when I was back home, always the different one, the one that stood out, and suddenly I didn’t anymore, I was ordinary. The realisation hit me, right in the face, hard and strong, that in this huge ocean, I was no whale or shark, just another little fish in the Shoal. My future suddenly became scary, thinking about college and university became terrifying and I just wanted to avoid it all, simply run away [I still do, sometimes] And now, I’m a mess.


But not all of it was bad honestly, Mumbai taught me a lot of things, it humbled me and it helped see: within myself and so many things about myself that I never really knew and were suddenly crystal clear in front of my eyes, as if a very loud noise had been shut down and I could hear clearly again. Back at home, I had this persona designated to me: ‘The Perfect Girl’ and suddenly I didn’t have to be anyone anymore, it was harder that way honestly, to not have a script to follow anymore. I had to discover myself and who I truly was for the first time Ever; I think that’s what I’m doing now, getting to know myself beyond who I was 6 months ago.


Things aren’t any better right now, I don’t think they will be for very long and sometimes moving here may seem like the biggest mistake I’ve ever made, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. So, this new year I have one resolution: I’m going to find who I am, a new persona, a new person, not defined by her past self, past life and this Social Jungle of teenagers she’s surviving in. This new year will be of rediscovery. So, here’s to 2025 and to all of us, whose lives changed because they stepped into the big, bad world out there; let us all be proud of ourselves as this year ends, because leaving our homes and lives behind is not easy and we lived that down: The Shift, the way it hit our egos and shattered our sense of belonging, but we didn’t run away, we strived through it and are surviving to see the light of day.


So, A Very Happy New Year People.


(The author is a student of St. Xavier College, Mumbai.)

1 Comment


Jayaram Kousik .
Jayaram Kousik .
Jun 12, 2025

Great write, yes Mumbai is a jungle and you have to fund your true bearings and none towards your destination

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