Hindus gather in celebration of Holi holiday.
By: Emily Craighead
PLAINSBORO The weather was cold and dreary Sunday, but spring was in full bloom inside the library here.
Adults danced and children ran about in frenzied circles, covered from head to toe in splashes of orange, magenta, yellow and indigo.
The pandemonium was part of Holi, the Hindu celebration of spring. The actual holiday was March 25, the day after the full moon.
"It’s hard to explain this to kids unless they do it," Montgomery resident Charlie Patel said. He brought his 9- and 11-year-old sons to the event.
It isn’t often that children throwing things, screaming and running around inside go unpunished let alone receive encouragement for such wild behavior from adults but Mr. Patel’s sons needed little prodding to take fistfuls of colored powder from bowls and fling it at their father, each other and anyone else in range.
A few curious library patrons looking for books on a rainy Sunday afternoon peeked quizzically into the program room, but seeing they would not escape unmarked by the colorful dye, continued on their way with a smile.
Within the room, songs from Bollywood musicals blared as children dashed across a tarp covering every inch of the floor. They paused occasionally to take a bite of samosa or gulab jamun, fried dough dipped in a sweet syrup.
Holi marks the mythical triumph of Prahlada over his father, an arrogant king, who ordered Prahlada to worship only him and not the Hindu god Vishnu. It began as a celebration of the harvest and fertility.
On this one occasion each year when caste, sex, status and age are cast aside, everyone celebrates the victory of good over evil. All rules are suspended, and gender rivalry and public flirting are rampant.
The native Indians agreed the Plainsboro’s Holi celebration was tame.
In the true spirit of the holiday, library trustee Vinnie Nanda greeted everyone who entered the library’s program room by smearing a dash of colored powder across his or her cheeks and forehead.
"How can you have Holi without color?" Ms. Nanda asked one woman who protested that she had just showered. "Shower again a shower doesn’t cost us anything."
Deputy Mayor Neil Lewis, one of about 50 people at the celebration, joined in the festivities wearing an old sweat suit.
"The first time I came to one of these years ago I was wearing a sport coat," he said. "I learned very quickly it was a blue-jeans event."
He assured bystanders, however, that most of the powder brushes off.
Standing along a tarp-covered wall, Divya Basavapatna, 16, started to duck as her 12-year-old brother approached with a gleam in his eye and dye in his hand, but she ended up with a mouthful of the orange powder anyway.
"It’s much more fun in India," said Divya, a Thoreau Drive resident. "They’d attack you even more." In the past, she said, she has spent Holi with her family in India, where she said colored water and eggs are also part of a motley arsenal.
No one escaped untouched by either the colored powder or the laughter pervading Holi.
When the festivities were over and the powder brushed away, shadows of yellow, pink, orange and blue remained promises of a vibrant spring yet to come.

