Holi Colors

March isn’t just about basketball. Among Indians there’s another sort of madness afoot. A holiday called Holi. Joyful, psychedelically-hued and unabashedly rowdy to the core, this is a day eagerly anticipated by the child deep inside even the most stodgy adult. A chance to willfully embrace chaos. To run wild and misbehave in ways that would land us in the time-out chair or worse on any other occasion. Adults act like kids, while kids rightly recognize this as the moment to seize—when rules no longer apply.

In its tamest incarnation, Holi involves brightly colored powder called gulal, playfully tossed with a friendly squirt here or there from a water gun called a pichkari. At the other extreme buckets of tinted water are dumped over unguarded heads, garden hoses aimed for battle and bodies covered from head to baby toe in a Jackson Pollack-inspired palette, as revelers dodge one another at full throttle, while simultaneously plotting their mischief. Imagine the most colorful water fight you can, then crank the intensity up a notch. On this day the grass turns red, the sidewalk purple, and afterward, a trail of pink footprints is forever imprinted across the bathroom floor. Today is Holi. If you’re with Indians (or others in the know), watch your back—punkrock-worthy streaks have been known to linger in light-hued American hair for weeks. And a white t-shirt will never be the same again. But really, that’s just the point.

After the shenanigans, food is the order of the afternoon. Celebrants brush off powder and join in the feast. Hot masala chai (spiced tea) and samosas (spiced potato turnovers) are an expected snack, but the meal itself will depend on the whim of the chef. In a household that mixes cultures, no holiday is ever strictly authentic, and Holi is no different. I offer up my sometimes wacky interpretations of Indian classics knowing that on this day no one is likely to raise an eyebrow. After all, rules no longer apply—for now. Enjoy the freedom…