If you were in India today, chances are that you would now be sporting rainbow hues from head to toe, because today is Holi, the Festival of Colors.
Holi is a Hindu celebration that welcomes spring and bids farewell to winter. Originally, Holi commemorated successful harvests.
As we prepared to take on streams of colorful powder and water this morning, we watched the playful mayhem on the street below our Panjim, Goa guesthouse. Like toy soldiers, children held fluorescent plastic squirt guns and water balloons, waiting for the moment when they could ambush vehicles and motorists with jewel-toned water and powder.
Open-topped trucks drove by, blasting festive Indian music with a Caribbean feel as teenagers and adults on-board cheered.
Poof. A purple stream of powder flew onto the passing revelers painting them in an instant.
The children were euphoric at this victory.
When we finally took to the street, armed with a plastic bag to shelter our cameras, we encountered a jubilant pack of merrymakers. Noticing our squeaky-clean clothing, the group parted, allowing us to pass untouched. We asked them to slather on some colored goodness. They obliged — swirling orange, red and yellow powders onto our faces. Despite the fact that they were gentle on us, we officially felt like part of the club.
As we walked to a Punjabi restaurant for lunch, we saw revelers of all ages with hair that resembled powdered wigs. Locals shouted “Happy Holi.”
Siesta-takers watched a cricket match, while a coffee-house employee channel surfed, briefly stopping at a Holi-themed Indian soap opera; the Bollywood-esque actor’s face was smothered with fuchsia war paint that was perfectly coordinated with his tunic.
We wondered how some of the local diners had made it to the restaurant unscathed.
With the hot sun overhead we decided to stroll back to our charming home away from home, Alfonso’s Guesthouse. As statewide elections had just taken place days earlier, we were told that Holi’s tossing of the colors ended earlier this year (as officials were still busy tallying the votes). On our walk home, the streets were noticeably quiet. The scattered splotches of color on streets and sidewalks were the only evidence of the mischief that ensued just hours before.
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Photography & text © Tricia A. Mitchell. All Rights Reserved.