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Published: March 21st 2017
Gulal
The coloured powders after some useThere'd been some light rain in the night and Monday dawned cool and bright. The only sounds to be heard from my balcony were the Laughing Doves' cooing, Rose-ringed Parakeets' shrill squawking, the
click-click calling of Palm Squirrels, and the hotel's two rival roosters shepherding their hens and loudly '
cock-a-doodle-doo'ing. In the background, horns of railway trains entering and leaving the city's main station a kilometre or so away bellowed on the breeze - as they did at frequent intervals throughout the day and night, one of the few drawbacks of staying here in Jaipur's Civil Lines area.
Today was Holi - a festival well known, even outside of India, for its generous use of coloured powders, known here as
gulal. Once made from natural vegetable dyes, then toxic chemical ones, the
gulal are now commercially-produced herbal powders - or so I was told. Some, like my friend Lajpal, still occasionally have an allergic reaction to them.
The festival celebrates the end of winter, the coming of spring and the victory of good over evil. Like so many Indian things, its origins are buried in the myths and legends of time - if you have the inclination, read the
Holi
Dhruvi, Rajshri and Lajpal Wikipedia versions. There's a fire involved in the 'good over evil' tale - I was privileged to light one of them a few years ago
(Holi at Maharani Bagh), but I'd never played with the
gulal. My experience of this festival of colours was great fun and full of joy, laughter, food - and whisky
(which seems to have become a regular feature of the past few blogs). The religious part of the festival took place at the
Purnima (Full Moon) last night. The crazy bit was today. I enjoyed it at the family home of Rajshri, Lajpal's wife, where friends and members of the extended family came and went all afternoon. While the action was full-on, it was perhaps more subdued than the vast quantities of coloured powder flying around in the air that you may have seen in TV documentaries.
The city itself was full of noisy, brightly-coloured people, many of them having made the festival an excuse to over-indulge in alcohol and to party, party, party – and to drive three- or four-up on motorbikes in noisy groups up and down the nearby road, hooters blazing. For me, however, this was a family affair, a festival of love if
Water-based colours...
...cause purple and black faces! you will, with bright yellow, green, orange, red and pink
gulal being spread liberally on every available face as guests arrived, with big 'Happy Holi' hugs, invitations to eat and drink, and much joyous laughter.
Everyone wore old clothes, me included; they would inevitably become covered in every imaginable colour as the festivities rolled on. My white t-shirt was unrecognisable by the end of the day and my jeans hit the rubbish bin afterwards too. My grey hair was pink. My fingernails still were as I started typing this missive three days later!
Our afternoon of coloured powders degenerated into a more energetic session of using water-based dyes up on the spacious rooftop terrace of the house
(I'd been there once before - for a special bridegroom’s breakfast during Lajpal's marriage ceremony - The next big day). Thankfully, the family was told to avoid me as I had to return to conservative England in a few days and it could be more than a little embarrassing to arrive looking quite unlike my passport photo,. Many of those present, however, did end up with purple or black hands and faces, even blue teeth, from using this stuff. It will take them many
Holi
Back at the hotel - before the first of my three showers! days of showering and scrubbing to remove it.
Full to overflowing with food and drink and looking a bit like a multi-coloured zombie, I retired to my hotel in the late afternoon.
In the first of my three showers, the wet-room floor was reminiscent of something out of a Hitchcock horror movie. Had I slashed my wrists the water would have been less red than this! Every surface was splashed with the residue of bright red
gulal. As the water eventually ran clear, I finished showering, dried off and checked my face in a mirror. Oh joy, it had returned to bronzed white - but the pink hair definitely wasn't a good look! So, it was back into the shower for two further - not entirely successful - attempts to return my hair to the natural white of advanced years! Thankfully, there was time for more remedial hair washing in my remaining days before boarding the flight home.
Lajpal, due to drive home to Abu Road next morning, returned with Rajshri and Dhruvi to say goodbye late that night. What a wonderful, happy day this had been and, unfortunately, it had to end with sad, fond farewells.
Holi
One for the family album My trip had started and ended with this little family and my last few days here would be rather empty without them. I console myself with the fact that I'll be seeing them again, maybe next year or, at most, the year after.
My journey of discovery still had a a couple of days to run - a walk off the beaten track (literally) in the hills and a search for more leopards would surely be a fitting finale to my four weeks here.
The panoramas at the top of this blog make a slideshow. There are more photos below and, if you double-click on them or on any of those within the text above, they will be enlarged.
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Andy
non-member comment
Dear Indian friends
Dear Mike, really enjoyed your blog and hearing about another crazy Holi - they are special. Particularly nice was to read about another individual who has made friendships in India. As you are no doubt aware this is not a hard thing to do given their warmth, kindness and generosity, but it is not something you read about often in many blogs about India. We too adore India and the Indians who have, time and time again, looked after us wonderfully. It was so wonderful to read of your experiences and know that still all is well in that most special place in the world. Best Andy n Ali.