The greys of winter make way for the riotous colours of spring. Holi, the festival of colours heralds this transition. Perhaps, this transition is more striking in the northern part of the country, making the festival more popular in the North.
These are testing times for the nation. Communities which lived in amity clashed and left behind a trail of destruction. An edgy feeling hangs in the air, fuelled by distrust and a sense of alienation between communities. What does Holi mean in these troubled times? Does it have a message for us? As we turn the pages of history, we rest upon Saint Kabir. It is as if he is living in our times and speaks to Hindus and Muslims once more...through the colours of Holi.
Of all the colours used in Holi, the predominant colour is red- the red of "gulaal". We colour each other’s body red during Holi. Saint Kabir's lines come to mind. He says we are born with a body that is like a piece of cloth- a "chadariya"- a cloth that is plain and drab. We take this cloth to the dyer for colouring, for embellishment. The dyer is none other than the teacher, the guru- the person who converts the animal-man in us to a man-man! The guru's teaching colours the body-fabric a full red- "laalo laal kar deeni chadariya". Red is the colour of love. Gone is our narrow, individualistic outlook. We expand our vision and exude that message of love for one and all. Holi symbolizes this attitude.
As we smear gulaal on each other during Holi, happiness is in the air and we literally paint the whole town red! Men and women, young and old...everyone is totally indistinguishable, their faces caked with gulaal. The differences vanish: near and dear ones and absolute strangers, everyone looks alike as seen through tinted-glass spectacles. The whole world is one splash of red!
Red is also the colour of fire- the colour of light and the colour of knowledge. It is as if the gulaal reminds us of that supreme knowledge, that ultimately, there is no "other"- both the self and the world outside are coloured much the same.
Such is the lofty message of Holi even as we playfully squirt water and take impish delight to chase down our next victim and douse him with a generous fistful of gulaal!
It is fitting that we remember Saint Kabir in these communally charged times. His poems are replete with the message of oneness. How did we forget Kabir? It is ironical that almost 400 years after his time, we continue to be at each other’s throats. It is painful.
But there is hope. Every Holi brings with it that hope- that we will reach out to not just our neighbours and friends...but more so, with the colours of friendship cutting across
communities.
Holi has its favourite quote- "Don't be upset, it is after all Holi!" ("bura mat mano, Holi hai"). Behind this simplistic line is an apt message, more relevant in these strained times. Holi is a free-for-all festival. A stranger walking on the road, in his spotless, new shirt can be caught in a barrage of water-balloons from the building-terrace! He is naturally upset as he tries to recover from the sudden shock of finding himself dripping wet! He runs after the balloon-pelter and is on the verge of punching him, when the pelter blurts out- "bura mat mano, Holi hai!" That sentence works like magic. The hand that raised the taut fist falls limp. Both look at each other in the eye, smile and move on! That is Holi- the ability to forgive, forget and smile despite provocation.
We hope this Holi, if we pelt from the building top, it will be only water-balloons and that too on passers-by who share the same sense of fun. If we arm our self with a 'lathi', it will be a mock-beating- as wives do to husbands during "lathmar holi". If we have a finger on the trigger, it will be a water-gun with sufficient range to drench our friend in a playful flood of water.
If it appears we have blood on our hands, it is but the redness of "gulaal", the redness of a compassionate heart and the redness of universal love.
Into that heaven of Holi, my Father, let my country awake!
No comments:
Post a Comment