I have often wondered why visual artists don’t make so much of Holi as the performing artistes – the answers stares me in the face as I look at the piles of enticingly vibrant colours on the thelas in Vrindavan. It almost makes me feel like I am in my studio looking at the beautiful rows of jars of colours and as a visual artist, I understand that every day is Holi for us in so many ways: “We play with colours all the time,” says artist Shridhar Iyer. And I am inclined to agree.
In the plastic arts there are any number of Holi scenes depicted in the Pahari, Deccan and Rajasthani miniatures. Whereas the classical tradition did not reflect life cycles and major festivals, but was more preoccupied with time, seasons and nayika, with the sole exception of “Hori”, as it is known in the Braj region, the folk tradition on the contrary found expression for moods and lifestyles. A Hampi stone panel dating to the 16th century has men and women celebrating Holi with pichhkaris.
In the musical tradition, chaiti and hori idioms have provided the bridge between the little and the great tradition or the folk and the classical, with hori being akin to the dhrupad genre. The complex inter-relation between the two is epitomised with the classical being withdrawn and inward looking and the folk having enough gung-ho to sweep off by sheer force of the earthy spirit.
Udat abir gulal, lalli chchaai hai sings Girija Devi, conjuring images of Holi, Krishna, Radha, gulal, bhang, song, abir, dance, et al. Imagery as difficult to separate as the Shavite and Vaishnavite traditions in the north. On one hand is the playful Krishna teasing Radha and the gopis spraying tesu water and on the other is the powerful presence of Shiva mixing his bhang.
Kathak maestro Birju Maharaj’s father Bindadin Maharaj and uncle Shambhu Maharaj were past masters at enacting Holi related thumris. Their progeny too, do them proud. And who can remain untouched when Birju Maharaj sings and dances Aaj khero shaam sang hori guiyan, can one really remain untouched by the Holi spirit Or for that matter, Birju Maharaj singing and simultaneously enacting Dekho hori ke khelaiya, kaise ban-ban aaye rather like the baraat of Shiva.
Perhaps this is why the first gulal is smeared on the Shivalinga and only after partaking bhang, his prasad, can festivities commence. A classic case of intertwining of two completely diverse streams. The traditional burning of Holika, Prahlad’s aunt is reminiscent of the Vaishnavite tradition as Prahlad was saved by the manifestation of Vishnu as the Narasimha avatar, the bhang and “playing” with the Shivalinga, harks back to the Shavite tradition. The pitambar or yellow is also the colour of phagun while the bhang thandai is white, associated with Shiva.
Holi or hori, is intrinsic to the Krishna lore and finds innumerable manifestations in the cultural ethos. Be it Radha’s village Barsana, where the lathamaar holi is played with gusto by women actually hitting the men, amid singing of traditional songs, who are hard put to defend themselves, or Krishna’s village Nandgaon, whose inhabitants go to Barsana to play Holi with the gopis a la Krishna. In Vrindavan, the festival itself was known as phaag. And phaag khel is not restricted to a single day in the rural areas but could last as long as two weeks. Music and dance replete with literary references to hori abound.
Poetry has been intertwined into the performing arts in an inseparable form. Having experienced the spirit of the playful cowherd in the people and the ambience, it is no exaggeration that Radha and Krishna seem to lurk just out of sight and in that sense Krishna of Vrindavan epitomises the playful element of childhood and adolescence so dear to Indian motherhood. While sahitya or literary aspect has been inextricably woven with the sangeet or music, poetry takes a humourous twist on Holi, with poets regaling audiences and vying to evoke laughter at the plethora of hasya kavi sammelans specially organised on the occasion.
The Phool Dol festival in Nathdwara too glorifies the Krishna legend. On the full moon of Phagun month Krishna and Navneetpriyaji’s silver statues are bedecked in golden yellow flowers — the colours of phagun and rocked in a flower bedecked swing from which the festival phool dol takes its name. In fact it is here that the Hol festivities begin with ladoon ki Holi played with Srinathji.
In Manipur, the dhol choloms are specially played for Yaosung as Holi is known there. Dance troupes or palas from all over the Manipur congregate at the Govindji Temple in Imphal for Yaosung and vie with each other to perform raas, sankirtana and cholom. Preparations are made months in advance with pride of place accorded to the Singh pala, or the royal troupe. Singing and dancing was considered a must for the royals as both part of ritual and culture. Yellow predominates again and it is a sight indeed fit for the Gods!
In Gujarat too, the raas performed on Holi is replete with the Krishna theme in both dance and music.
In Rajasthan the chaang or the large single frame drum is the accompaniment for the phaag geet.
In the cow belt, the light banter peculiar to Holi and the entire lore of the gaali tradition is a socially recognised validation of relieving sexual desire.
According to one interpretation, the shape and usage of the pichhkari too has sexual connotations.
Vasant — the season of Holi is also the celebration of Kamdev — the God of love. It is also the mating season for the birds and the bees.
It is said that Kamdev had been reduced to ashes when Shiva opened his third eye on being disturbed from his meditation after Sati’s demise. The tears of Kamadev’s wife Rati and other Gods moved him and he agreed to let Kamdev live, but in a bodiless form, as Meera said, “Phagun ke din chaar, Hori khel manalo...”
Dr Alka Raghuvanshi is an art writer, curator and an artist. She can be contacted on alkaraghuvanshi@yahoo.com
