Originally posted: January 16th, 2015
Pre-Holi ceremony
Turns out I skipped the second half of March 15th that should have been added to my last post, so here it is in all it’s glory.
It was approaching dinner time, and we had visitors at the apartment to celebrate the pre-kickoff of Holi. The dinner party consisted of me, Apoorva, Her Mom, Grandfather (aka Nana**), Aunt & Uncle, and Cousin Dhruv. This was a special night because it marked the start of Holi, which is a holiday that, I can assure you, all Hindus go absolutely bananas for. Holi is also (sources tell me) the Hindu new year and symbolic start of Summer. The holiday is based in legend, and that legend goes a little sum-somethin like thissssss… (bulleted for time)
– King Hiranyakashipu gets a badass boon that makes him invincible
– He gets cocky, makes everyone worship him and not the other gods
– His son Prahlada is like, “Naaa pops, I’m gonna give love to Vishnu and worship him cause he’s a boss.”
– King longname is most displeased. Tries to punish him in a million ways, eventually burning him in a fire
****Cue Holika, enters from stage left****
– Holika (the King’s evil sister) tricks Prahlada into sitting in a fire with her, but she’s secretly wearing a fireblanket (I’m picturing one of those crinkly inside-of-a-sun-chip-bag lookin blankets that marathoners sport post-race)
– Plan backfires, the blanket envelops Prahlada, Holika goes up in flame instead. The King is like WHAAAA, this shit’s wack, and then Vishnu shows up and kills his evil ass.
Analysis – Pyre of Fire translates to light, goodness, etc. Vishnu comes out on top, I hope Prahlada thanked Vishnu, and the holiday of Holi was thus born to celebrate it all. The holiday of color and love that also serves as their symbolic start of spring and the point at which Indians can ditch all the pants and long sleeves for more reasonable attire.
Disclaimer: if you want a more accurate recounting of events, please seek a Hindu person, cause I may have missed a few things or introduced subtle inaccuracies into the plot. ANYWAY, there we were, hanging out in Auntie Mathur’s condo, chilling.
COLOR! – notice the box of gujias at the top of the photos mmmmm
We had ourselves a lovely dinner and good conversation. —OH PS – I’m serving up a hot story about a tiger hunt at the end of this post, so don’t bail on me now— We ate wonderful food, which I’m assuming was delicious and right in my danger zone of spiciness, but I was only sweating from my forehead and not drooling or crying or anything drastic, so I’d say I was handling the dinner well. After dinner, the box of Gujias came out, and if you don’t know what they are, order some. Pay the shipping. It’ll cost you, but it’ll be worth it. They’re basically little pastries stuffed with delicious sweet things and glazed with a light coating of something I will, for lack of any term at all, call maple syrup. Traditionally, the family gets together the night before Holi for this ceremony, but in this case we did it two nights before for logistical reasons. It is traditional to eat sweet things and say sweet things about other people so that you “enter the new year with a sweet taste in your mouth.” After we enjoyed dinner and the sweet treats for dessert, the small ceremony happened.
Since it is the festival of color, they pulled out these bags of color… Being somewhat of a mediocre artist, I think of color in hues and tones and wavelengths. Intangible. But here I was holding heavy, store-bought bags of color with my hands.
“What is it?”
“It’s color?”
“I mean, what is it really?”
“Color. What do you mean what is it?”
I give up. It turned out to be just basically dyed flour, but no no no, it’s not dyed flour, it’s color. For accuracy’s sake, they could have said “messy color” #waytowearanicewhiteshirtApoorva
Anyway, Nana, the grandfather, went first, taking some pinches of color, and after bowing his head and saying some prayers to a cabinet full of gods, sprinkled some color into the cabinate over statues of Vishnu (the god most closely associated with Holi) and Ganesh (elephant boss who’s like the Mathur family’s favorite choice of god/main god/based god). Then we each took turns in descending order of age, saying a prayer and spritzing Vishnu and Ganesh and the rest in the cabinet with color. I wonder how my prayers compared to Nana’s. After that, we gathered in the middle of the family room for the ceremonial dabbing of color on peoples faces. Nana put some on Aunty Mathur’s chin and cheeks, and she returned the favor, then other people started doing it, so I joined in, YAY!
Ummmmm, turns out there’s a specific order that it was supposed to happen in, and boy did I blow it. Everyone kinda stopped and looked at me. Walk it off. Holi 0, Colin -1.
Anyway, I was not ridiculed or made fun of or laughed at (that I know of) or stoned or berated or relegated to the kids table or sent directly to hell. They went with it and we had a good time putting color on each other, while trying not to get it on the nice white furniture. GREAT SUCCESS!
We were settled into chairs and chaises and couches as the night wound down and the group traded ceremony for conversation. Near the end of the night, Nana captured everyone’s attention by bringing up a story about his father-in-law, who was a financial advisor for the Emperor at the time. One day, the Emperor invited this man, Apoorva’s mother’s father’s wife’s dad, to come on a hunt with him in the jungle. I’m assuming that this must have been a great honor, after all, it’s not like anyone I know’s been invited to go hunting with Obama (although perhaps Washington doesn’t go hunting since that time Dick shot an attorney in the heart). Anyways, they’re out hunting, and a tiger comes out of nowhere! In a wildly incomprehensible moment, the tiger leaps through the air towards the Emperor. In one quick motion, Nana’s father-in-law wheels, raises his weapon, and fires a shot right into the great feline assassin, killing it and saving the Emporer’s life. As a token of appreciation for saving his life, the Emperor later bequeaths unto him a grand estate worth untold lakhs. That is why Nana’s wife was considered a sort of princess. Although she denies it on a technicality about how her Nani married into a non-“royal” family, I’d say that makes Apoorva like 1/4 Indian princess.
No one could really hold a candle to that story, so the night petered out shortly thereafter. With a belly full of good food and a mind full of good stories, I do believe I slept quite well that night.
The next day was a day of wrestling at the akhara. That night was pretty relaxing, and included good food and a walk through her beautiful gated apartment complex.
Somethin tasty
View from the balcony during golden hour
Apoorva likes to pull her socks halfway down her foot to ‘cool off.’ #notnormal
GrandAunty liked to sit by the window in the late afternoon as the sun set
We went for a walk before passing out.
Looking down from the hallway outside their door
Check back later for my next post which will include accounts of one of the coolest parties I’ve ever been to, and the day-long celebration of HOLIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
If you are Hindu or just more knowledgeable, feel free to comment any corrections/insights about the story of Holi or anything else.
**Nana (pronounced Nah-Nah) is the Hindi word for the maternal grandfather, which is confusing because Nana (pronounced NAN-uh) is a word for a grandmother in english, (and what I call my Mom’s Mom)