This past weekend was Holi celebrations in one of our local temples. I love Holi. Loved it for the past few years I have actually celebrated it. I actually did not like it much as a kid. I remember the day in my 11th grade when I was walking home with my friends in all white uniform when some unruly idiots decided to shower us with pink. My friend got some color in her eye and me, much worse, got some on my uniform. I had to face the wrath of my mother. The uniform was soiled for life and it had another year and half to finish off my school with. I hated it. Holi did not belong in Chennai. I was not ready to celebrate it. It looked awesome in Hindi movies but not in real life.
I came to the US, met and fell in love with a person who had lived north of Chennai all his life and had celebrated one too many Holi's. We celebrated with friends, with family, with everyone and I enjoyed it. I was more prepared, old clothes on me, towels in the car, garbage bags to pack the crap, we were ready to taken on the color! We celebrated it in our front yard, in public parks and a few times at the temple. My most memorable Holi was at my in-law's house in Mumbai. We played with colors, got totally messed up for 3 hours. Then we went up, showered, changed and came back down for the most yummiest food ever. Sat down chatting with everyone around.
This year, we were at the temple with friends. My friend motivated me to get off my butt and get colored. It was good fun. There was music, food and crowd. The weather was perfect, hot enough but not scalding yet. We danced, colored, hugged it out and came back home. As I get older, I notice I am not into loud fun as much as I was a year ago.
Today, as my brain monkey was going through my memories from the weekend it remembered that I had told S not to wear shorts as we were going to temple. At the temple though, not literally inside but at the temple grounds they were blaring out Hindi item songs! Ha! My brain monkey laughed at the irony that exists in the Hindu Temple.
Pondering Colorful Art
I came to the US, met and fell in love with a person who had lived north of Chennai all his life and had celebrated one too many Holi's. We celebrated with friends, with family, with everyone and I enjoyed it. I was more prepared, old clothes on me, towels in the car, garbage bags to pack the crap, we were ready to taken on the color! We celebrated it in our front yard, in public parks and a few times at the temple. My most memorable Holi was at my in-law's house in Mumbai. We played with colors, got totally messed up for 3 hours. Then we went up, showered, changed and came back down for the most yummiest food ever. Sat down chatting with everyone around.
This year, we were at the temple with friends. My friend motivated me to get off my butt and get colored. It was good fun. There was music, food and crowd. The weather was perfect, hot enough but not scalding yet. We danced, colored, hugged it out and came back home. As I get older, I notice I am not into loud fun as much as I was a year ago.
Today, as my brain monkey was going through my memories from the weekend it remembered that I had told S not to wear shorts as we were going to temple. At the temple though, not literally inside but at the temple grounds they were blaring out Hindi item songs! Ha! My brain monkey laughed at the irony that exists in the Hindu Temple.
Pondering Colorful Art
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