Photos and Article by Joydip Mitra
I heard a hymn-singer challenging thunder with all the renderings made for God, I saw a drummer jumping into air and transforming into lightning, I contemplated with many into that mischievous face of a boy who, in time, will take up a mythical flute to draw all into everything—color, passion, war, and sensuality. It’s difficult to make out who imitated whom—the Lord his devotees, or the believers their Master. Holi is all about thinking in confusion and arriving at nothing. The colors of love are blinding.
It’s really difficult to come out into anything remotely material. We know that holi is all about celebrating the rather earthly longing of Lord Krishna for Radha, where colors simply stand, outwardly, for spring, and, deeper in, for passion. This is quite significant in another sense. Radha was never conceptualized in Puranas. It was a Bengali poet, Chandidas, who first thought of her and thus, in the thirteenth century, gave a mighty God His first folk form saturated in all mortal passions like love and longing. That poet certainly made a noble philosophy dip into humane emotion. Holi carried that softer legacy from then on.
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