Holi: More Than Just a Splash of Colour

Holi is a celebration of colours. But why?
Every year, as I see people buying packets of gulal with such excitement and children filling
their pichkaris with colours that may outlast the day, I find myself wondering — why colours?

Why do we celebrate this festival by smearing each other with hues?
The use of dry powders in vibrant colours has always piqued my curiosity. That curiosity, in
turn, led me to explore its history and mythology.
The opinions that follow are solely mine — stitched together from what I read, what I felt, and what I observed.

Holi marks the end of winter. And winter, in many ways, feels like a season of greys. The trees stand bare. The mornings are misty. The sun hides behind fog. Everything appears muted, almost restrained.
And then comes spring.

Suddenly, there is mustard blooming in fields, bougainvillaea spilling over walls, and the air
carrying a hope that winter lacked. The advent of spring becomes evident when nature quietly shifts from monochrome to a burst of colours.
Perhaps that is why Holi is played with colours.

It is not just about staining clothes or faces; it is about welcoming vibrancy after monotony. It is about reminding ourselves that no season — however dull or harsh — is permanent.
But over time, I have begun to see Holi as something more personal.

Winter is not only a season outside. It can settle within us too — in phases of silence, distance, misunderstandings, grief, or emotional numbness. We all go through periods where life feels pale and repetitive.
And then, like spring, something shifts.
Maybe it is just a conversation that heals. Or the quiet satisfaction of achieving a long-held goal.
When a new bond forms. A forgiveness that takes away the emotional burden. Or perhaps we simply decide to let light in again.

Maybe Holi is an invitation to step out of our inner winter.
When we apply colour to someone’s face, we temporarily blur identities. The carefully
maintained appearances dissolve. The serious colleague becomes a laughing friend.

The reserved neighbour becomes playful. Status fades. Ego softens. We all look equally ridiculous and equally beautiful.
There is something deeply symbolic in that.
We don’t just throw colours. We exchange emotions.

But there is another line that echoes loudly every Holi —
“Bura na mano, Holi hai!”
“Don’t mind, it’s Holi.”

I used to hear it as a phrase filled with mischief and harmless fun. But as I grew older, I began to question it.
Should we really not mind?
What began as a celebration of joy sometimes becomes an excuse — to cross boundaries, to ignore consent, to waste water, to throw harsh chemicals, to force participation.
Perhaps Holi was never meant to erase sensitivity.
Maybe the true spirit of Holi is not about imposing colour, but inviting it.

Spring does not force flowers to bloom. It simply creates the right conditions. In the same way, celebration should feel safe, mutual, and thoughtful.
If someone says no, if someone steps back, if someone chooses to celebrate differently —
Maybe we should honour that too.
After all, what is the point of celebrating vibrancy outside if we dull someone else’s peace
within?

This year, as I think of Holi, I don’t just see colours in the air. I see the transition from grey to gold.

From silence to laughter. From holding back to opening up. And that true celebration is
not just about how brightly we colour others, but how thoughtfully we do it.

I hope this Holi, the air carries not just laughter, but awareness. Not just playfulness, but
kindness.
Holi Mubarak!

PS: This post was published in the March edition of Thought Lantern magazine, founded by Palak Chauhan.

PS: This blog post is part of ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.