Today was an Indian celebration of the arrival of spring. The festival is called Holi. And it is a festival of colors. And boy are there colors.
Families gather together and throw small packets of what they simply call "color" on each other. This color, from what I can tell, is just dehydrated dyes and pigments. They smear it all over their siblings, parents, cousins, and distant relatives faces. Their apparent joy is fun to watch, but more fun to participate in.
Yup I got colored today. Pictures will be posted. A good time was had by all.
The other element of Holi is water. Packs of children armed with water guns and water balloons roam the streets. They stalk building to building like well trained combatants dousing all those in their path. Ambush points are set up for the unwary street walker, and balloons filled with water rain down from rooftops accompanied by the sound of children's laughter.
Personally I had 5 water balloons thrown at me. And none of them hit. Seriously? I am a LARGE target here in India. Not a one found it's mark. The balloons exploded behind and in front of me, but none of their aqua ballistics found their mark. I began to become disappointed. Did these children know nothing of leading their target? Biding their time till you were sure your strike would land true? A pity they did not receive the same training I had as a 5 year old boy on the streets of my grandmother's house.
It is a lifetime and a world away, but I remember the water wars as if it was only yesterday. It was soak or be soaked back then. And even if you did soak the other guy first, he would probably soak you anyway. They were tough times. I didn't know who to trust. Alliances were made and broken in instants when water was involved. The only thing you could hope for was being better or faster than the other kids. Water fights are hell.
Anyway. I had a wonderful time with Shashi and Shammi's family. Took some pictures, and I will post them soon.
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