The air around me was a-swirl in a powdery mist of pink, green, and blue. I viewed the world through the fine dusting of powder across my glasses. Pink powder caked into my ears and I had green and blue streaks across my cheeks. Any movement caused the fine dust to rise into the air before once again
lighting on my skin.
We had come as observers but the small group around us apparently hadn’t caught on to that concept. With bottles of colored powder and pop bottles filled with liquid color they surrounded us with smiles on their faces. “ Happy Phagwah!” they said as they smeared our cheeks with color and shook baby powder onto our heads before kissing each cheek.
Phagwah is a Hindu holiday that celebrates the coming of spring and the color that it brings. In addition it is a holiday that promotes a putting aside of differences and a celebration of friendships and diversity. The ceremony began by a group of singers sitting on the floor leading a “Happy Phagwah” song. East Indians of all ages that had g
athered for the celebration worked their way around the sitting group of song leaders sprinkling baby powder and colored powder on their heads. Once the song was over the people converged on each other with colors of all types – pinks, purples, blues, greens, and shimmery glitter filled shades. Little boys with water guns filled with liquid color laughed and chased each other and covertly took turns trying to spray the “white girls”
without beings seen.
After the celebration towels were produced and faces were clean and then it was off to the next house where people crowded onto the veranda and more Phagwah songs were sung. Little boys sat still while clutching their water guns and waiting for the moment when it would be time to color each other again. Snacks were served, the group colored each other, and then it was off to the next house for more of the same – the Hindu version of a block party.
Two hours later we left, color soaked and laughing. We had come as observers but they had welcomed us as family. We lived different lives, were of a different race, and were of two vastly different religions, but we had celebrated together none-the-less.
lighting on my skin.We had come as observers but the small group around us apparently hadn’t caught on to that concept. With bottles of colored powder and pop bottles filled with liquid color they surrounded us with smiles on their faces. “ Happy Phagwah!” they said as they smeared our cheeks with color and shook baby powder onto our heads before kissing each cheek.
Phagwah is a Hindu holiday that celebrates the coming of spring and the color that it brings. In addition it is a holiday that promotes a putting aside of differences and a celebration of friendships and diversity. The ceremony began by a group of singers sitting on the floor leading a “Happy Phagwah” song. East Indians of all ages that had g
athered for the celebration worked their way around the sitting group of song leaders sprinkling baby powder and colored powder on their heads. Once the song was over the people converged on each other with colors of all types – pinks, purples, blues, greens, and shimmery glitter filled shades. Little boys with water guns filled with liquid color laughed and chased each other and covertly took turns trying to spray the “white girls”
without beings seen.After the celebration towels were produced and faces were clean and then it was off to the next house where people crowded onto the veranda and more Phagwah songs were sung. Little boys sat still while clutching their water guns and waiting for the moment when it would be time to color each other again. Snacks were served, the group colored each other, and then it was off to the next house for more of the same – the Hindu version of a block party.
Two hours later we left, color soaked and laughing. We had come as observers but they had welcomed us as family. We lived different lives, were of a different race, and were of two vastly different religions, but we had celebrated together none-the-less.
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