Things That Bang

I am all for people having a ball on Holi but don't be offended if you find me lying through my teeth about not being home if you want to come over and play with chemical colours and cold water.

My memories of this festival are mixed. It was fun to drop water balloons at strangers, play with the water pistols but I dreaded being dragged to the neighbor's home where they played rough.

Despite all my loud protests, buckets full of cold coloured water was thrown over me, having permanent gullal and paint rubbed all over my face and body in the name of fun.

My worst memory is of being eight years old and being dragged by my upper arms as I lay on the floor to the area where buckets of smelly water were being filled. Fear coursed through my veins and I screamed but that a-hole of an uncle laughed and proceeded to roughly colour me up, drench me and then forcefully squish balloons against me.

Once he was done with me and had me in tears, he went looking for another human being who barely reached his waist. I saw my friends meet the same fate and I continue to hate that dude even today.

I never thought of telling my parents about it - none of us did. We saw ladies being grabbed, even grannies got that manic look in their eyes. It was as if the world had gone mad and there was no safe place to hide from.

Thankfully, we played within homes, goons had taken to the streets, some stoned with bhang and others just drunk.

But it wasn't as if we needed to be protected from strangers but from people we had known since we were tots. People who became completely sane by lunch time but before that enjoyed festive hooliganism.

By the time we became teenagers we became adamant about us three sisters not wanting to play but the neighbours thought it was their god given right to come and badger us while my sisters and I hid in the bathrooms.

The conversations generally went like this-

Come out and play!!

I hate holi!!

Come out!!

No way! I don't like the way it is played!

What do you mean? Its always been played this way.

No Aunty!! I am not coming out of the bathroom.

Accha beta! Just a little Gullal for Sagan

That's when one gave in. Respect and obedience towards the adults always took precedence over self preservation.

We'd open the door and were grabbed and the same shit would begin again.

Grabbing, dragging, pushing, smelly colours till one fine day I told my parents this wasn't my idea of fun, it was abuse and an invasion of personal space.

There was a big discussion in our house that Holi evening. My parents and grandparents conceded that people became wild while having fun during Holi but that was why we were always protected, we played with those who loved us.

Nothing untoward really happened.

It took us a while to make them realize that this wasn't a civilized way of playing Holi.

We didn't mind a little gullal but the violence had to stop.

People had horrid stories to tell about this festival. Some even boasted that they had bhang, saw their friends become stupid, who roughed who up, how many days it took to get the paint off their skin, the rashes, the bruises, the capillaries being burst and taking eye medicines and all I thought was - Stupidos!!

People back in my neighbourhood continue to play Holi they way they did back then. My sister today hid in the bathroom as usual, my mom was respectfully called over and then blackmailed that her house would be made dirty if she didn't come and play.

She wasn't roughened up, a little gullal was put on her- she is an 'elderly lady' after all but the young crowd played rough with each other and their kids. They continue to bond via congenial violence

I shivered as she told me over the phone. I remembered that next door uncle, the smell of nasty color and told her I was glad I wasn't in Delhi during Holi.