Holi

Holi is the Indian festival of color. It is essentially a tye-dyeing of the body and soul.

If you ask an Indian the religious significance of the festival, they’ll say “….eh?” The reality is that any religious significance is more or less tacked on. It’s essentially a secular holiday that EVERYONE celebrates. The colored dye is sold everywhere, complete with squirt guns for firing colored water. The cool thing about Holi is that nobody is exempt. You will never be reprimanded for dousing someone and their clothes in a color that, I assure you, will never come out. We even got colored the day before Holi, just leaving school. Some of the cheaper powdered has glass in them, some are said to be lead-based, and some will stain your skin for well over a week. You just have to deal.

The funny thing about Holi is that everyone in the city celebrates, and it’s completely evident in people’s hands, necks, and faces for at least the next several days. I saw people with colored hands at least a week after Holi. In some of the poorer citizens, you may even continue to see it in the clothes, if they don’t have an extra pair of clothes to wear the next day. As far as clothing long term: yes, its pretty much stained forever.

We went to a friend’s house early that morning to celebrate, but before we could leave, we had to get colored by our host-parents, and our host-uncle and aunt, who proceeded to color each other, then one of the house-cleaners that happened to walk by. The younger generation gets excited and throws it around and runs and enjoys their vitality. The older ones just solemnly cover each other’s heads in pink powder, and then move on with their day.

When we got to the friend’s house, we confronted a violent mob of little kids, who sadly had us very much out-numbered in soldiers and artillery. When they started spraying us with their fancy $2 Super Soakers (mine was 60 cents, and didn’t work….) and making us look foolish, I was filled with a fiery passion for vengeance. I thought back to what I learned in school (see mom? I learn things in school) about the Battle of Plassey, where the British were able to conquer an Indian force with vastly superior numbers and artillery simply by better management and strategy. The result of the battle was British rule in Calcutta for the next 200 years, and that’s precisely what I intended to accomplish. Except instead of Calcutta, just the little yard we were playing in, and instead of Indians, just small Indian children.  So we proceeded to interchangeably make phalanxes and human pyramids, and when the kids approached (ironically yelling, “Get the Britishers!!”), we would all run at them and scream to scare them away. Sometimes I would carry empty buckets and pretend to dump it on them. Despite our group tactics, my yelling (they can’t understand me, so I didn’t exactly hold back), and my frequent displays of agility, they proceeded to make us look foolish for the rest of the day. 

The girls look so helpless. I should have been there to help. I must have been rolling around or yelling at a kid somewhere. 

And that, is all you need to know about Holi. Come to CSB/SJU next March to try it out.