Udat faag gulaal, range mori chunariya,

Aur na khelo mose Nandlaal, O sawariya..

Rang jo gulaal ki , rang jo preet ki, 

Sakhi sang khelat, mohe Ghanshyam..

Rang jo faag ki, rang jo vasant ki,

Tere hi rang mein khudko rangayi, re rangshyam..

Udat faag gulaal, range mori chunariya,

Rangi main to tere rang mein, ho rasiya..”

Today is Holi..The festival of Colours..

Colours of the‘Gulaal’..Colours of  the ‘Spring’..and, Colours of ‘Love’..

With the year long wait, overnight excitement and a heart full of madness, people of ‘Banaras’ starts playing ‘Holi’..

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After the whole day celebration, finally it comes to an end. But somethings on the Earth, still waits after the end. There are some scattered group of people, wandering all over the city..and waiting to throw colours to everyone they meet on their way..

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Look who’s there?? A group of boys is seen running through the stairs of the ghat. They are still on the way..wandering, playing and throwing colours all over. Chasing his friends, one of them shouts, “Holi Hai!!”, and blows the colours on the air. They jumped in the river, splashed around and washed off the  colours..Alongwith the folk of the birds, they take their way to home..

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O’ crazy people..O’ mad ‘Banaras’, have you ever seen playing her ‘Holi’ ??

She plays with colours everyday, every moment..When the night escapes into a splendid sunrise, the eastern sky spreads its morning hues to her palette. With the vanishing yellow beyond the horizon, every sunset paints all of its evening shades to her canvas.

Her eyes glisten with the first sunray, the crimson red sky waits for her awakening. But for her?? Oh, she loves the colour of saffron, the colour of ‘Vairaag’, and wears a beautiful saree of this colour. For the whole day, she becomes busy in washing off the impurity of others. She devoted her life to this holy work, even before she was born.

When the sunset comes, the vermilion sky ties the knot with her saree, pouring a thousand of colours to make her like a princess. Now, she loves to be in ‘Shringar’ mood, and wants to be a beautiful bride. Oh, look at her! She wears a lavish red saree..adorned with the essence of longing, she waits for her groom overnight..But my poor daughter, she is far away from the truth..that, the groom will never arrive..and the wait never ends..

When the sky welcomes the dawn, she becomes a devoted saint..and again, she wears the saffron..

Her soul is drenched in the colours of the dawn, and she is bathed in the colours of the dusk..If you have ever been in ‘Banaras’, you’ll see her waiting, still..