India
is a land of myriad festivals, in rhythm with the cycle of the seasons, with
sowings and harvesting. and around them have grown legends, most depicting the
victory of good over evil. These fairs and festivals lend color and gaiety to
life and Indian calendar is marked by plethora of such big and small occasions.Some festivals are of religious nature, others are related more to, change of season and harvesting. They have a long past and many have undergone major modifications. Though the enthusiasm for some also seems to be fading, nevertheless they do bring about a change in the lifestyle of the people. Some festivals and fasts are religion specific protocols aiming towards communication with the divine.
The liveliness of the people is reflected in the colorful vibrancy of the fairs and festivals. Processions, prayers, new attires, dance, music etc. are elements related to any such celebration. The Puri-Rath Yatra, Allahabad-Kumbha, Alleppey-Boat Race, Pushkar-Camel Fair, Goa-Carnival so on and so forth all reflect the diversity of the land and its people but common emotion of revived vigour, joy and sharing.
Vasant beckons spring. Scattered amongst the ripening wheat are the bright yellow flowers of mustard. Tender blossoms appear on the mango tree and 'song is bestowed upon the bird'. On that day everyone wears a special shade of yellow. The festival is dedicated to Saraswati, goddess of learning and the arts.
After about two months comes Holi, the very end of our cool season. It is a festival of colour, truly democratic and egalitarian. All barriers are down, all inhibitions shed. Boys and girls, men and women of all ages, all castes, and all classes participate. None is high and none is low.
Anyhow, when a person is plastered with colour he is not easy to identify. On the eve of Holi bonfires are lit and Holi itself is celebrated by the throwing of colour,
by
gaiety and noise, one could even say, by wild abandon. In time the festival
has also become associated with the 'Lila' of Radha and Krishna and has inspired
some of our most sensuous poetry. Of all the seasons it is the Sawan (Monsoon) which has evoked the largest number of songs. This is not strange, for summer in the plains of North India is long and hot.
As months go by anxious eyes scan the sky. It is a time for renewal. Swings are hung at all likely places and women and children are seen swinging high into the branches overhead accompanied by joyous singing.
