Sitting in the small balcony of my homestay, perched on a plateau, I sip the early morning tea. Raindrops from last night are still dripping from the leaves. In the valley below, the farmers are tilling their step farms of rice and potatoes using cows. As the cows move, the bells around their neck ring creating the only sound that echoes far beyond the valley and into the mountains.
“Bhaiya, aj hum sab pahad pe holi khelnege. Aap bhi aiye” (Today we are all celebrating Holi up in the mountains. Come and join us). My host welcomes me to join all the villagers for holi as she gets ready to go with her family. I could hear the muffled sound of drums somewhere up in the mountains as if they were preparing for a bigger celebration.
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| Panchchuli Range, Kumaon |
A short hike through the village and forest brings me to a clearing where village women, children and a few men have gathered. Two old women sit in the far end of the ground making tea and snacks for everyone over firewood. Smoke is spewing out of the wood in backdrop of the mighty Himalayas creating a mystic aura and filling the cold mountain air with a pleasant burning fragrance.
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| Women cooking tea and snacks over firewood |
** Holi celebration in Kumaon is a five day fest where the village folk celebrate harvesting and sing songs for Lord Krishna. Holi was brought to this region centuries ago by their ancestors from Mathura, India
While the adults are taking time to loosen up with each other, the children have already become each others best friends. Watching them I think of the days when I did not need a toy or any object to play with. Chasing each other for hours was the best game we could play, occasionally falling flat on the ground only to be picked up by the very person we were chasing.
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| Children play while the adults sing |
We sit in a circle with children, men and women. I do not know their language and some of them do not know mine. Yet, we are having some of the most amazing conversations through the eyes, hands and facial gestures. The children now begin to play their drums while women get up one by one to dance to the tune. I am not too much of a dancer, yet, the imperfect yet unique sound of the drums make my feet join that of the others in a typical Kumaoni dance.
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| The imperfect yet unique sound of drums echoed far into the mountains |
It took me a while to get my steps in sync with the village folk going round in a circle dancing to the songs sung by village women. I was touched by the sense of community and brotherhood. I miss it in a city where one has to check their schedule to give you time. The day seemed to pass at its own pace while people went with the flow. We were not in a hurry. Neither did we give a time slot to our celebration nor did we plan anything.
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| We could not stop ourselves from dancing with the village women |
On the way back to my homestay, I saw smoke coming out of one kitchen and sounds of laughter from inside. I knew something was cooking. I peeked inside the kitchen to see women cooking sweets. They looked at me, smiled and said, “Come sit with us and have some sweets”. I remember those days when people used to gather at my home years ago on Holi to make sweets.
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| Sweets are made in every home |
I have celebrated the best Holi of my life with a community far away from the city I live in. I experience warmth, happiness, laughter, innocence and love.
I would love to know your unique experiences in comments below.
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Gaurav Bhatnagar
Travel Writer, Photographer, Public Speaker, Entrepreneur @ www.thefolktales.com
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Accha hai…different kind of experience of celeberating holi on hills..
This post reminded me of my village home-stay in Demul, in Spiti. I wonder why don't WE have time to 'stand and stare'? The peace and contentment at these villages is amazing.
Hi Divya. Demul sounds an interesting place to explore. I will definitely keep it in my list when I plan for Spiti. Did you write on it as I would love to read your story on Demul?