When someone packs up their bags for a year abroad, holidays are usually a point to look forward to. This is no exception for me; celebrations in India are big, bright and beautiful. At the beginning of every March, Holi comes around. "The festival of colors" as it is commonly known, is nothing like any holiday or celebration I have experienced before: This year for Holi, there were no big plans for a party as Muskaan prepares for boards. However, this was no excuse to let the holiday slip away. A day before, on Chhoti Holi, I hung the colorful decorations outside the house. My host mom, Muskaan and I all went to HUDA market just down the street to buy some colored powder and (huge) squirt guns. While we were at it, we got some freshly squeezed juice but forgot to buy a mold to make gujiya - a traditional sweet eaten during the holiday. Of course, gunjiya has to be made, so we got right to work upon returning home. The dough was made from maida, and the filling a sweet mixture. Since we forgot to buy a mold at the market, we bought one at the shop within our society. As it turned out, anyway, we did not require the mold. We cut circles in the dough, filled them with a spoon of filling, and pinched the edges closed. This type of sweet is prepared by frying it and then serving it. In addition to gujiya, my host mom also made a few samosas with the same dough, but a different, savory filling made from potatoes and peas. Everything came out very delicious. The next day, it was Holi. We woke up very excited, but a little bit unsure of what to do because of the lack of plans for the morning. We changed into white shirts and went outside to fill the buckets with water, taking along our squirt guns. Along with squirt guns, we also had yellow snow-powder which absorbs water and becomes 'snow'; we used this to form 'snowballs'. Though the day started out quite slowly with no one to squirt water at, the rate of playing Holi quickly increased as the day went by. First we met our neighbor who threw water balloons are Muskaan and I from her balcony. Soon after, she joined us and we played with the water guns and some other young girls in the neighborhood. The first color of the day pelted my white-clothed back; it was a pink water from one of the neighborhood girl’s water squirters. I will add that I was quite impressed upon seeing those contraptions: water tanks carried on the back in the form of a backpack with a hose attachment to squirt the water. This was much more efficient, but no less fun, than having to run back and forth to the water bucket. Shortly afterwards, neighbors started showing up to celebrate. We placed all the chairs in the sun as many of us got soaking wet from water wars. Every time someone passed by us, stranger or known, they would walk, colored and all, towards us with their pots of colored powder and place, rub rather, it on the faces of everyone saying: “Happy Holi!”. Needless to say, by the end of the day, everyone had color shoved into every crevice imaginable and my shirt was no longer -and would never again be- the same pristine white it had started out. For lunch, everyone contributed a dish and I got to eat my favorite, Pao Bhaji. It was amazing to see everyone come out and celebrate the holiday, not many occasions can get everyone together in the United States in the same way. Our neighbors – who we know for their two dogs Cherry and Ginny – joined us for a few minutes. Ginny the pug even had a splash of festive purple added to her coat. From squirting guns, to throwing water balloons, to smearing color powder and dumping buckets of water on people’s heads, it was an experience I will not soon forget. Holi was not just the festival of colors. To me, it represented many things I love about India. For one, togetherness. Even though we hadn’t planned much, all our neighbors got together and had a great time. Another is the colorfulness. Not only in the literal sense, but seeing everyone’s bright and optimistic attitude the entire day was very contagious. Interacting with people on this level makes everyone in the surrounding area feel amazing. Furthermore, it represented how much this year, the culture, and everything I have learned, will stay with me for a long time. Just as it took me a zillion times to scrub the colors off my skin, I will carry these memories with me for a lifetime. P.S. to anyone in the US who would like to, let’s play Holi next year!
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AuthorNamaste! Mera naam Anna hai! Hi! my name is Anna. Please enjoy reading about my experience as a high school junior in India and ask any questions you may have! Archives
June 2019
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