Holi: The Hindu Festival of Colors

Somewhere along the line during my Christian upbringing I became enamored with Indian culture. It’s through that cultural and spiritual richness that I would find myself dreaming of a sort of romantic alter-reality.

The food, rituals, music, and clothing were all so very foreign to me, yet somehow seemed vaguely familiar. I would even often imagine that I had been reincarnated, an unheard of concept for most Roman Catholics. I painted my hands and feet with henna, wore sari-inspired outfits, and wore bells around my ankles when I danced.

Many years later, I find that I am still drawn to Indian culture. So much so, that I have become a student of ayurvedic medicine. And thus my romance continues.

One of the most fascinating traditions throughout India (as well as Nepal and Sri Lanka) is the Hindu festival of colors, Holi or Holli.

Holi is the celebration of winter’s passing. It signifies the beginning of spring, the season of love. It glorifies the harvest and the fertility of the land. It is also when the spring crops are harvested.

Perhaps, it is the abundance of goods from these crops that inspires the unadulterated joy that follows on the first day after the first full moon in March.

Holi falls on March 20th this year. While we Americans are raising glasses of green tasteless beer and pretending to be Irish, all around India people are readying themselves for the brightest, most festive of days.

During Holi men, women, and children of all walks of life celebrate together unabashedly in the streets. It is one day that caste, sex, social status, or age do not matter. In fact, a common phrase heard throughout the festival is “Don’t mind, it’s Holi.” (Hindi = Bura na mano, Holi hai.)

Holi is deeply rooted in mysticism and legends. The word Holi itself allegedly comes from the name Holika, the sister of a mythical megalomaniac king named Hiranyakashipu. Hiranyakashipu commanded that everyone worship him. His son Prahlad instead became a devotee to Vishnu, the Hindu god.

In response, Hiranyakashipu ordered his sister, Holika, to kill the young Prahlad. Holika was blessed with the power to walk unharmed through fire. She picked up Prahlad and carried him through the fire with the intent of burning him to death.

However, Prahlad was spared by chanting the names of Hindu gods. Holika, unaware that her powers were only effective if she entered the fire alone, perished.

Today, bonfires are lit the day prior (known as “Holika Dahan”) to Holi. Festival goers throw cow dung into a roaring flames and shout obscenities as if they were hurling them at Holika herself.

Mothers often carry their babies five times in a clockwise direction around the fire, so that her children are blessed by Agni, the god of fire.

Another story revolves around the divine love of Radha and Lord Krishna. Krishna, as a child, is known to be quite a prankster. He is said to have playfully thrown colored powder and water at Radha and her cow-herding girl friends.

The story tells us that Lord Krishna, when comparing his skin to that of the fair skinned Radha, felt his was too dark. In response, his mother applied color to Radha’s face to see how her complexion would change.

In memory of this playful display of affection, modern revellers throw beautiful, brightly colored powder made from dried flower extracts and scented water at each other.

During Holi, there is dancing, singing, party food and beverages are consumed. Bhang (a paste made from cannabis plants) is the traditional drink. Intoxication is common and plentiful.

I have put together some pictures from around the web. Enjoy!

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