Holi

Happy Holi, everybody!

Ever since one holi five years ago, where someone managed to dye the inside of my ear bright pink, I've been understandably hesitant about being a part of this festival. I mean, I'm still walking around with pink earwax, so it's hard not to be.

This year was no different. For days before, I was all prepared to lock myself up in a room and watch bad movies all day. But festivals are about about the spirit of the community and all that. So, I steeled my will (tied back my hair, pulled on my combat gear and put on the war nail paint), and went out to be a part of the action.

Of course, I got splashed. And bucketed. And water-ballooned.

And of course, it was fun!

We played with colour, water, flowers...

Wait, flowers?

Yes! We played Braj ki Hori. Holi as it's played in Braj, North India. They play nine different kinds of holi, which means they use not only colour and water, but sticks and flowers, among other things.

It's pretty, isn't it?

And when that was over, we stood there and dried off, in all our multicoloured glory. And rubbed cheeks with friends and family, and filled our bellies with good food, and our hearts with sunshine and happy things.

Mush aside, it's a nice feeling.

So, happy holi again, everybody. Join us next year!

(Hopefully, my earwax will have returned to its normal, non-hot-pink self by then.)