where गुजिया meets turbotax

april arrives like that one friend — 
shows up with फूल, a spreadsheet, a water balloon, 
and a calendar full of holidays — all at once.
no other month has quite this much तमाशा, 
and yet, somehow, it's also the most quietly beautiful one.

on the indian side of things, april is basically a new year buffet —
गुड़ी पड़वा, उगादि, बैसाखी, विशु (gudi padwa, ugadi, baisakhi, vishu) —
each region ringing in fresh beginnings with sweets, rituals, 
and that particular smell of something new starting. 
the air still carries faint traces of होली gulal, गुलमोहर trees are beginning 
their slow fiery bloom, and mango season is whispering 
its arrival like a very delicious promise.

on the american side? uncle sam clears his throat.
the april 15 tax deadline arrives like an uninvited guest
who is somehow also legally required to be there.
one browser tab has turbotax open. the other has नानी's गुजिया recipe.
this is peak desi-american multitasking — spiritually rich, financially… reviewed.

then there's the rain. “april showers bring may flowers” is lovely poetry,
written by someone who clearly never commuted through new jersey in a downpour.
back home, the pre-summer बारिश was mango-scented and almost romantic.
here, it's just a bad hair day with thunderstorm warnings.
but either way, it keeps whispering: चलते रहो.

april is also — and this is the part nobody talks about — deeply in-between.
not fully settled, not completely chaotic.
you make plans that aren't quite ready yet.
you promise yourself new routines, morning walks, less doom-scrolling,
and then one rainy afternoon pulls you into old bollywood songs
and you think: ज़िंदगी भी अजीब है, यार.

but somewhere between the taxes filed and the skies clearing,
between the easter eggs and the गुजिया,
between the cherry blossoms in dc and the अमलतास back home — 
april quietly says:
“थोड़ा सा और खिलो.”
“थोड़ा सा और जियो.”