FESTIVAL: The colours of truth
Why are you dressed all in white?” I was asked by an elderly woman at the big ground behind Shri Swaminarayan Mandir where most of the Hindu community of Karachi comes to celebrate Holi, the festival of colour on the first full moon of March.
It was my first time at the festival and trying to look knowledgeable about the custom I had resorted to copying the Holi celebration scenes from Indian movies where everyone is dressed in brilliant white clothes in the beginning and is drenched in colours in the end. On sheepishly admitting what I had done, I was politely informed that white was the colour of mourning, completely wrong for a happy occasion such as Holi. One shouldn’t believe everything they show in the movies.
That was four years ago. Although my problem then was quickly fixed by the naughty children chasing each other, with packets of powder in different colours and water pistols, who made sure I looked like a rainbow from head to toe, I have always made sure to wear something bright and cheerful if heading to the ground again to celebrate Holi.
In Hindu mythology, the festival of Holi celebrates the power of truth. But most enjoy it, like the Mughals, for its colourful form
Right in the middle of the ground is the Holi Mata, resembling a North American teepee. It is set ablaze by the pujari soon after the puja (prayers), and ahead of the throwing and splashing around of the colours though the children don’t stop playing Holi even before that. Meanwhile, the women prepare their metal thalis with a coconut, some holy water and packets of colour. Not all who have come to celebrate Holi engage in puja. Chaman Lal, an elderly fellow and an old resident of the flats that surround the ground and temple, says that only those women who recently got married do puja alongside their husbands and those mothers who have had a baby take part in the puja with the child in their arms as she makes four to seven rounds around Holi Mata. “The rest are all here to have fun and enjoy the festival,” he laughs as someone aims their water pistol full of gulal, or colour, mixed with water at him.