Burra Na Maano, Holi Hai!

I love Holi. I love what it represents. I love the colours. I enjoy the festivities and smiley faces and people wearing white clothes to accentuate the colours they're doused with. I love the bonfire. I revel in the sentiment.

A favourite song of mine goes, "Holi kè din, dill khill jaatè hain, rango'n mèin rang mill jaatè hain."

It was a big thing back in my day. But, Holi tended to be nothing but a gropefest. Growing up in an all boys boarding school in Shimla, we learned respect and restraint, it was all pretty tame and civil, us Cottonians went over to the all-girls Chelsea or CJM, and physical contact was limited to rubbing coloured powder on the face.

Years later, after leaving school, I joined a Holi Horde back home in Punjab. They rented a Swaraj Mazda, and went around town looking for girls to grope and fondle. I was appalled at how terrible it was for girls. Needless to say, I did not join in ever again.

Going back to the same song, the lyricist says the unsaid:

"Ja rè ja deewanè tu, 
Holi kè bahanè tu,
Ja rè deewanè tu, 
Holi kè bahanè tu,
Chhèd na mujhè, besharam"

'Twas ever thus. Sadly.

Happy Holi, or Hola Mohalla, everýone.