Holi

The colours of spring, the change of season to warmer tones of yellow, vermillion and green from the starkness of winters. Holi is symbolic of victory of good over evil. Holika on the insistence of her brother Hiranyakashyap, tries to kill her nephew Prahlad who is a pious virtuous kid and opposes his father’s wrongs. Holika gets burnt instead and people celebrate smearing her ashes and crushed flowers. The festival gets its name from her.

This symbolic festival in the Northern part of India has a ritual of creating an effigy of Holika and burning it the day before. It is considered auspicious. In other parts of the country it celebrates the advent of spring after a harsh winter. Awakening, rebirth and newness.

Growing up, we focused on the fun aspect. Planning and preparing water bombs and balloons, some vile smelly potions. We congregated on someone’s terrace and the fun remained undiminished every time. Despite the same activities we were reenergized every year with greater enthusiasm.The faux chasing, dunking and targeting unsuspecting friends with our arsenal of missiles. The blue colour was invariably one that refused to go. We mixed egg shells with ink to increase potency and in the absence of the internet, information was eagerly gleaned from anyone who cared to share.

We were usually allowed a sip of Bhaang in chilled thandai (a drink made with milk, dry fruits and spices). The merriment was euphoric while we sang songs and soaked in the warm sunshine. We generously slathered oil beforehand to avoid colours from staying on, though the real fun was to have more colours on us stay on  than the next person in school. After a  prolonged bath, deep slumber overtook our senses. Happy bliss!

Before global warming our seasons changed quite definitively. Mid November we wore cardigans to school and snuggled into quilts at night. The nip stayed on till Holi and this day was the day we first put on the fans. Announcing summer with certitude.

Today with more awareness we use organic colours, in the warm shade of pinks, yellows. Dry “gulaal”, no water, sane and correct. It lacks the spontaneity and sheer gladness we experienced then. Even kids despite their term exams looming ahead were allowed to play. A novel addition was a raincoat and do as you will.

Holi the festival of colours, is celebrated with aplomb all over our country.