As a child, Holi was the festival that I would eagerly wait for every year. The colours had to be dissolved in water, the buckets filled with coloured water had to be taken outside and then began the crazy session of applying colour on each other using pichkari(spray or water gun). We had to be literally dragged back home somewhere in the late afternoon after countless requests fell flat on the deaf ears. By then we had so many layers of colours that our faces would have gone beyond recognition. The bigger challenge was for the parents to scrub those colours off the skin. Normally it took a couple of days or more to get back to our natural skin colour. But that enthusiasm filled childhood made us run out with abir/gulal(coloured powder) in the evening again. Yet we had been carefully taught not to apply colour on anyone who refused to be a part of the festival. The concept of consent had been cautiously inculcated within us.
During my tenure at Kolkata, Delhi, Bangalore and Mysore, I fondly remember the memories associated with this day. Mouth watering food, colours, music and loads of fun with family,friends,hostel mates, colleagues and then the husband occupied my Holi during various phases of life. As a mother, I’m trying to pass on the same love for colours, consent and celebration to my toddler. Today, it was a heartwarming sight to see three generations, from my father to us and my son indulge in the festival of colours with an effort to make it special for the youngest in the family.
soniasmusings wishes you and your family a very happy and colourful Holi. May your lives be always filled with colours of love and joy.