The Desi Knitter writes about Holi…

I haven’t played with water and colours for Holi in nearly a decade. This weekend, though, it’s the spring festival again, and many of the friends I played with back then are in Delhi, getting together for a Holi party. Very kindly, they have included me in the emails discussing the preparations, and I am feeling more than a twinge of envy. Not so much for the spatter of colour, the wet mud or the sinking realization that months of brutal summer will soon descend after this saturnalia, but for the bhang, which is being procured and prepared even as I type this. Some of my best memories of JNU are, ironically, associated with this memory-tampering device. But, across the world, walking back home from school a short while ago, the full moon was shining white in the dark blue evening sky to my left with the Golden Gate bridge awash in glorious sunset hues to my right. Holi was in the air, alright. Holi hai!