Colors in the Air

I grew up in Gujarat, where Holi was the best day of the year. When I moved to Ohio for work, I missed it terribly. So this March, with a few friends from the Indian community, I organized a Holi celebration in a city park and invited everyone.

We expected maybe fifty people. Four hundred came.

We handed out little bags of colored powder: pink, yellow, green, blue, orange. I explained to the crowd that Holi celebrates the arrival of spring and the triumph of good, and that on this day, everyone is equal and everyone is colorful. Then someone started the music, and the sky exploded.

Children chased their parents. Grandparents threw color on college students. A police officer got a handful of green powder on his shirt, laughed and threw some back. Strangers hugged. By the end, nobody could tell who was who. Everyone was every color.

A woman I'd never met came up to me afterward, covered in pink and yellow, and said it was the most joyful day she'd had in years. I felt like I was home.