When colours invade Braj Bhoomi

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Text and photographs by : Sohrab Hura

Legend has it that the young god Krishna once complained to his foster mother, Yashodha, that Radha was so fair in stark contrast to his own dark hue. Yashodha humorously told him to smear some colour on Radha’s face. Following her suggestion, Krishna and his fellow cowherds from Nandgaon went to another village, Barsana, and mischievously slopped colour on Radha and the other gopis (maidens). The girls, in turn, responded by chasing the boys away with sticks.

According to some stories at least, this was the beginning of Holi, the festival of colours. Every year, in the end of February or beginning of March, various societies of the northern Subcontinent are suddenly turned upside-down: social interactions are riddled with pranks; people are doused with coloured powders; dancing erupts in the streets. There is food, drink and good cheer.

Holi is celebrated in many parts of the Subcontinent, with gusto and rambunctious verve. But in Braj Bhoomi – the area in Uttar Pradesh roughly made up of Mathura, Krishna’s birthplace; Vrindavan, where he grew up; his natal village of Nandgaon, and Radha’s village of Barsana – Holi has a particularly special meaning. For more than a week before Holi is celebrated elsewhere, colours and festivities take over the streets and villages of Braj Bhoomi, with people coming from afar to witness and participate. Temples in the area are suddenly packed with devotees. Over these crowds, from dawn till dusk, priests spray saffron-coloured water with their pichhkaris, sprays, and throw coloured powder. Meanwhile, devotees squeeze into these temples, hoping to fall into a trance or catch a glimpse of the Krishna and Radha idols behind the curtains. Daily processions jostle through the crowded streets and alleyways of Vrindavan. Frenzied chants of “Radhe! Radhe!” blend into the euphoric “Holi hai!”

The highlight of the weeklong festival is Lathmar Holi, which is played on consecutive days in Barsana and Nandgaon. On the first day, the menfolk from Nandgaon dress in their traditional attire, and go off to play Holi in Barsana; there, the women beat them off with lathis, in a re-enactment of the interaction between Krishna and Radha. As the women of Barsana teach the young men of Nandgaon a lesson – with their husbands cheering them on – the elders of both villages congregate in the village temple and sing colourful ballads of Holi. These songs, known as hori, are compositions about the mischievous, irresistible Krishna, cavorting with Radha among the gopis, drenching them not just with his favourite colour, kesari, but also with love. During the subsequent days, the tables are turned in Nandgaon: the men from Barsana are at the receiving end of the sticks from the women from Nandgaon.

Despite its long tradition, Holi in Braj Bhoomi has seen some changes. What used to be a festival of 16 days, for instance, now lasts only a week. Colours containing toxic chemicals have replaced tradition powders in many places, worrying many. Plastic pichhkaris and spray-colour cans are now readily available in the markets. Even nationalism has been allowed to colour Holi in certain places. Even as Holi takes on new meanings it still retains much of the old. Braj Bhoomi remains a fervent bastion of the most traditional form of this great Southasian festival.