Holi, known as the “Festival of Colors” was celebrated this year on March 20 and 21 around the world by people of Indian origin. It marks the end of winter and the start of spring. Old and young, men and women come together in a spirit of uninhibited fervor to meet and greet friends, family and even strangers. People use powder (“gulaal”) in red, yellow, green, aubergine and many other colors to lovingly dab on others’ faces, stepping forward to hug them. Pails of colored water are also used to drench the revellers.
The Iranian/Persian New Year, Nowruz was celebrated on March 21 as well. Literally meaning “new day”, it is a holy occasion for Zoroastrians, Baha’is and people in other Muslim communities.
In greeting my friends who celebrated these two different festivals, I was reminded that Holi had been an abiding symbol of syncretic traditions that prevailed in the Indian sub-continent for thousands of years. Two famous compositions on Holi by Hazrat Amir Khusro (Khusrau), the prominent Sufi poet, musician and mystic scholar of the Chishti order come to mind:
| Aaj rang hai hey maa, rang hai ri | There’s color today O’ mother, there’s a glow today, |
| Moray mehboob kay ghar rang hai ri | In my beloved’s home, there’s a new hue today |
| Des bades mein dhoondh phiree hoon | I have searched everywhere, here and abroad, |
| Toraa rung man bhayo Moinuddin | It’s your person, your glow that’s tinged my heart |
| Mohe apne hi rung mein rung de Khwaja ji | Douse me in your color O’ Master |
| Mohe rung basanti rung de Khwaja ji | Color me in the hues of spring O’ Master |
| Kheloongi Holi, Khaaja ghar aaye | I shall play Holi as my Khaaja (Khwaaja/Master) has come to my home |
| Dhan dhan bhaag hamaare sajni | Blessed is my fortune, O’ friend |
| Khaajaa aaye aangan hamaare | (as) Khaajaa (Master) has stepped in to my courtyard |
The following couplet is one of many composed by the last Mughal emperor Bahadur Shah Zafar on Holi:
| Kyuun mo pe rang ki maari pichkaari | Why did you drench me with the colored water |
| Dekho kunwarji doongi mein gaari | Now my prince, I will swear at you |
There is a “kaafi” (classical form of Sufi poetry) attributed to Bulle Shah, the Sufi saint from the Punjab, ““Hori kheloongi, keh Bismillah” (I will play Holi beginning with the name of the Lord,
saying Bismillah)”. However, I am appending Bulle Shah’s following “kaafi” on a pupil’s entreaty to the Master to color her/his being completely in His own hues; the composition is soulfully sung by legendary Pakistani singer Abida Parveen:
| Jo rung rungeyaa, goohdaa rungeyaa | The color used to dye, runs deep |
| Murshad waali laali, ho yaar | … (that) hue of my Guide, O’ friend |
| Kuuk dilaa mataan rab suney,
cha dard wandaan diyan aanhi Hu |
Call, my heart so the Lord might listen,
seek the ache (so as) to not miss the “Hu” (symbolic name for God in Sufism) |
| Seena ta mera dardeen bharyaa,
andar bharkan baanhi Hu |
Misery fills this bosom of mine,
rages within the fire of (longing for) “Hu” |
| Telaan baaj naa balan mashaaalan,
dardaan baaj na aanhi Hu |
Lamps cannot be lit without oil,
without pain, there can be no sighs for “Hu” |
| Aatish nal yaaraaney laa kay,
bhumbhat saran kay nahi Hu |
Having entangled (ourselves) with the fiery (arduous) path of “Hu”,
shouldn’t we expect to get singed by the embers? |
| Auwkhaa jheraa ishq-e-waalaa,
sambhal kay paer nikaleen O’ yaar |
The path of love for the Supreme is arduous, be careful when spreading your wings (setting foot), O’ (moth) friend |
| Mein shaahbaaz karaan parvazaan,
wich aflaak karam dey Hu |
Like a falcon I soar high,
through destined skies of the bountiful “Hu” |
| Zabaan taan meri kun baraabar,
moran kam kalam dey Hu |
My tongue equals the one that utters ‘Kun’ (God said this word and the earth came into existence),
others use the pen to talk of “Hu” |
| Aflatoon Arastu wargey,
mein aggey kis kam dey Hu |
The likes of Plato and Aristotle
have no merit before me |
| Haatim wargey lakh karodaan,
dar Bahu dey mangdey Hu |
Countless are dregs like (the wealthy) Hatim,
(lying at) the threshold of (Sultan) Bahu, begging for “Hu” |
| Zulf siaah wich ho yad-e-baiza,
O chamkar dekhaween Hu, O’ yaar |
Black locks and the brilliantly glowing hand (reference to Moses),
show us a true miracle like that, O’ friend |
| Allah! Ishq muhabbat dariya dey wich,
theen mardaanaa tareeyay Hu |
Allah! Through the river of ardor and rapture,
(guide me) to swim like a man, “Hu” |
| Jitthe paun ghazab deeaan laiharaan,
qadam uthaaeen dhareeyay Hu |
Where strike the most vigorous waves,
step forward and wade towards them |
| Aujharh jhang balaaeen bele,
wekh wekh naa dareeyay Hu |
Dense forests, troubling creepers, wild beasts
let not their sightings daunt you |
| Naam faqir tadaa hi theendaa,
jad wich talab de mareeyay Hu |
One deserves the title ‘Faqir’ (Sufi ascetic)
only when you (are prepared) to die seeking “Hu” |
| Maulaa! Buleya Shah ghar meray aayaa,
kar kar naach wekharee Hu, O’ Yaar |
Lord! Bulla says “My Master came to my house
and I caper around, dancing (with pleasure), O’ Lord” |
In a world intent on self-flagellating itself with lashes made up of religion, color, race or any number of perceived inequalities it would be worth reflecting on things that bring us together. More than anything else today we need to find a soothing salve to comfort our troubled minds.
“If music be the food of love, play on”.
wealthisnotmoney 