<p class="bodytext">Varun was getting restless. There was still a week to go before Holi, and he was eager to start using his water gun. Festivities, he believed, should begin well before the festival. Of course, he could not go around squirting colours on everyone; his sister had scolded him for turning their cat crimson. There was nothing, though, to stop Varun from covertly hurling water balloons. His parents were sure to take a dim view of this exciting enterprise, but as Varun told himself smugly, he was hardly going to take them into confidence.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Bent on mischief, Varun roamed the neighbourhood with a bulging bag slung over his shoulder. Passersby probably saw him as an unseasonal Santa Claus, except that his sack was not stuffed with gifts but balloons filled to bursting. When Varun spied a likely victim, he immediately launched a balloon, careful to do so from behind a bush or building. Varun chuckled at the dismay of those he drenched whenever a missile found its mark.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun knew that what he was doing was wrong. He was aware that while people expected to get wet on Holi, and even enjoyed it, they did not find it amusing to be splashed with water when they were not prepared. Regrettably, this realisation did nothing to prevent Varun from continuing to entertain himself at the expense of others.</p>.Commas can save lives.<p class="bodytext">On the contrary, as he escaped unscathed after each exploit, he grew increasingly bold. While earlier he had stayed hidden, waiting for prospective prey, he gradually began to stalk pedestrians. Creeping up as close as he dared, he pelted them with balloons. This was not quite as risky as one might think, since Varun only picked on the elderly and the very young. He would not get in trouble as long as he stuck to them. If they sighted him, as they frequently did, they glared angrily but could not chase him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Safe from pursuit, Varun was in no hurry to leave the crime scene. Waving cheerfully, he would depart, yelling, “Happy Holi!”</p>.<p class="bodytext">One evening, Varun spotted a particularly tantalising target. An elegantly attired lady was out for a stroll with her dog. She was evidently old, but Varun did not pause to reflect that she deserved consideration. He followed her purposefully, but observing the beast beside her, thought it wise to keep his distance. Despite this setback, Varun had every intention of proceeding with his plan to startle the elderly woman. Stepping back several paces, he adopted his previous strategy of attacking stealthily, this time from behind a tree.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After days of causing Holi havoc, Varun had perfected his aim. As his water balloon struck the lady squarely on her back, she squealed in shock and distress. Varun’s delight was short-lived. Taken by surprise, the lady let go of the dog’s leash. The animal, taking this release from restraint as a mandate from his owner to hunt the offender, raced unerringly in Varun’s direction.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun made a desperate attempt to climb up the tree, but his heavy bag impeded his movements, and he came sliding down. He tried again and somehow clambered onto a branch seconds before the dog arrived. Forgetting how scared he had been a moment before, Varun taunted the dog as it gazed at him from below. “Catch me if you can!” he jeered triumphantly.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Then, several things happened at once. The branch broke, and Varun tumbled out of the tree. His bag, with its supply of ammunition, crashed to the ground along with him. As the liquid projectiles burst, Varun was completely soaked. A balloon bath, however, was the least of his worries. He found himself lying helpless on the ground, face to face with a menacing Rottweiler.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun closed his eyes. So this was the end, he thought. “Devoured by a dog” was what his obituary would read. Fortunately for him, rescue was at hand. The lady Varun had mistreated, moving quickly for her age, walked briskly towards him. “Rufus, leave him alone,” she commanded, and Rufus reluctantly obeyed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As Varun stood up on trembling legs, the lady looked at him sternly. She did not have to say anything. Varun’s face showed plainly that he had learnt his lesson. He understood that it was not much fun to be frightened. No longer would he be a Holi terror!</p>
<p class="bodytext">Varun was getting restless. There was still a week to go before Holi, and he was eager to start using his water gun. Festivities, he believed, should begin well before the festival. Of course, he could not go around squirting colours on everyone; his sister had scolded him for turning their cat crimson. There was nothing, though, to stop Varun from covertly hurling water balloons. His parents were sure to take a dim view of this exciting enterprise, but as Varun told himself smugly, he was hardly going to take them into confidence.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Bent on mischief, Varun roamed the neighbourhood with a bulging bag slung over his shoulder. Passersby probably saw him as an unseasonal Santa Claus, except that his sack was not stuffed with gifts but balloons filled to bursting. When Varun spied a likely victim, he immediately launched a balloon, careful to do so from behind a bush or building. Varun chuckled at the dismay of those he drenched whenever a missile found its mark.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun knew that what he was doing was wrong. He was aware that while people expected to get wet on Holi, and even enjoyed it, they did not find it amusing to be splashed with water when they were not prepared. Regrettably, this realisation did nothing to prevent Varun from continuing to entertain himself at the expense of others.</p>.Commas can save lives.<p class="bodytext">On the contrary, as he escaped unscathed after each exploit, he grew increasingly bold. While earlier he had stayed hidden, waiting for prospective prey, he gradually began to stalk pedestrians. Creeping up as close as he dared, he pelted them with balloons. This was not quite as risky as one might think, since Varun only picked on the elderly and the very young. He would not get in trouble as long as he stuck to them. If they sighted him, as they frequently did, they glared angrily but could not chase him.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Safe from pursuit, Varun was in no hurry to leave the crime scene. Waving cheerfully, he would depart, yelling, “Happy Holi!”</p>.<p class="bodytext">One evening, Varun spotted a particularly tantalising target. An elegantly attired lady was out for a stroll with her dog. She was evidently old, but Varun did not pause to reflect that she deserved consideration. He followed her purposefully, but observing the beast beside her, thought it wise to keep his distance. Despite this setback, Varun had every intention of proceeding with his plan to startle the elderly woman. Stepping back several paces, he adopted his previous strategy of attacking stealthily, this time from behind a tree.</p>.<p class="bodytext">After days of causing Holi havoc, Varun had perfected his aim. As his water balloon struck the lady squarely on her back, she squealed in shock and distress. Varun’s delight was short-lived. Taken by surprise, the lady let go of the dog’s leash. The animal, taking this release from restraint as a mandate from his owner to hunt the offender, raced unerringly in Varun’s direction.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun made a desperate attempt to climb up the tree, but his heavy bag impeded his movements, and he came sliding down. He tried again and somehow clambered onto a branch seconds before the dog arrived. Forgetting how scared he had been a moment before, Varun taunted the dog as it gazed at him from below. “Catch me if you can!” he jeered triumphantly.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Then, several things happened at once. The branch broke, and Varun tumbled out of the tree. His bag, with its supply of ammunition, crashed to the ground along with him. As the liquid projectiles burst, Varun was completely soaked. A balloon bath, however, was the least of his worries. He found himself lying helpless on the ground, face to face with a menacing Rottweiler.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Varun closed his eyes. So this was the end, he thought. “Devoured by a dog” was what his obituary would read. Fortunately for him, rescue was at hand. The lady Varun had mistreated, moving quickly for her age, walked briskly towards him. “Rufus, leave him alone,” she commanded, and Rufus reluctantly obeyed.</p>.<p class="bodytext">As Varun stood up on trembling legs, the lady looked at him sternly. She did not have to say anything. Varun’s face showed plainly that he had learnt his lesson. He understood that it was not much fun to be frightened. No longer would he be a Holi terror!</p>