[Idea credit: Ms. Richa Savla, who abhors playing Holi, but loves it after.]
“Mummy, why are those people spraying each other
with toxic colours, and misbehaving with those women?”
“They’re celebrating Holi, dear- the advent of Spring-
and this is a chance for some banter..”
“But they’re falling sick of lead poisoning, and those
women are feeling miserable?”
“The Indians are celebrating Life, dear..”
“Mummy, why are those people dumping those idols
into the sea, and littering those beaches?”
“They’re celebrating Ganeshotsav, dear- the birth of Lord Ganesha-
and this is a time to mingle..”
“But the water’s getting polluted, and the
idols dismembered?”
“The Indians are celebrating Life, dear..”
“Mummy, why are those people making so much noise,
dancing away in the dead of night?”
“They’re celebrating Navratri, dear- the battle of Durga with a demon-
and this is a way to socialise..”
“But they’re playing loud songs, disturbing students, and robbing
many of nine nights of sleep?”
“The Indians are celebrating Life, dear..”
“Mummy, why are those people burning those effigies,
and bursting so many crackers?”
“They’re celebrating Diwali, dear- the victory of Good over Evil-
and this is an occasion to revel in..”
“But they’re employing children to make the fireworks, and they’re
polluting the air?”
“The Indians are celebrating Life, dear..”
“And the day we died, Mummy, and the string slit our throats,
What were they celebrating then?”
“They were celebrating Sankranti, dear..”
“Do the Indians celebrate death too, Mummy?”
