A very moving — as well as colorful — story from NPR on India’s Holi festival is well, well worth your time. It focuses on the stories of widows celebrating it:
“I have no one. I’ve lost everything. My children are gone, my parents are gone. My husband’s family doesn’t ask about me. They don’t even look for me, they don’t even know if I eat,” says Manu Ghosh, 85.
That’s her above, seen before and after the Hindu festival of Holi at her ashram in northern India.
Manu was married at age 10 and found her way to the northern city of Vrindavan at 37. By that time, she was already widowed and had lost three children, who she says all died prematurely. Manu is one of many widows among the ashrams of Vrindavan whom I met covering this year’s Holi festival.
Here’s the climax of all their work: the widows reveling in the shower of powder that turned the courtyard a cloud of pink. Some are octogenarians, but these spry widows played pranks that could rival any teenager. They have dance moves to match. They ambush the unsuspecting with the eye-stinging powder. More than once, I missed them coming straight for me. Bam! Another pigment pie in the eye. I worried they’d get sick and that all their frolicking would end badly. But these women are made of sterner stuff, having weathered abuse, rejection, isolation and worse. A little powder was not about to stop them.
Do check it out.
Posted by Steve