Holi memories from childhood are still fresh and colourful in mind even though its been ages. One set of memories take me back to the steel city of Durgapur where I grew up. Holi was celebrated there with friends from the neighbourhood..a day off from school...beautiful weather...colours and water....running in the streets...delicious sweets prepared by our moms..late afternoon showers with ma shouting.."thik kore shampoo korbe, jeno ekdom rong na thake mathay"...(shampoo properly so that there are no more colours in your hair.)...early to bed...exhausted but satisfied and happy.
The second set of memories take me back to a little village called Bhogolpur in West Bengal. This is a remote village where once upon a time my grandfather decided to build a house and a temple even though he himself settled in Jamshedpur for work. However, the yearly visit to this village was compulsory during Holi. The last time I visited was in 1996..my parents still visit this village every year during Holi. Its very difficult to describe this set of memories because my literary skills are inadequate to describe such a beautiful place and such an out-of-this-world experience.
One really has to experience this to get the feeling right.Having said that, I would still like to share a few snapshots of this set of memories, even though I know I will not do justice to the experience.....After that I will move on to describe the Holi celebration now in Holland !!(which will take two lines!!)
After several changes of buses and trains, we used to reach a small town called Kotulpur. Beyond this point nothing ran on petrol anymore. The only means of transport to the village of Bhogolpur was "gorur gari"--a bullock driven cart. Each cart could carry roughly 3 or 4 adults. What a journey that was!! There were no proper roads, hence the bullock carts ran over uneven paddy fields, rough muddy paths, past someones garden, through some greenery, down the river slope and then crossed the river where there was minimum water. Mind you, there was no TomTom to announce "Stay in the left lane" . All we had was our driver communicating in a special language with the bullocks. Whatever he said to them was always reflected in their speed, sometimes relaxed, sometimes hectic-- our city bred internal organs screaming for peace and mercy most of the time. Even then, I can assure you it was super fun!! The short distance of 10-12 kms took two hours..by the time we reached our house we were already tired and exhausted!
I have vivid memories of a kitchen where food was being cooked almost throughout the day....a big open space where we all sat to eat together....a big room where all of us slept on a make-shift bed on the floor...giggling and chatting till late at night..woken up by the early rooster call...feels like a dream as I write these lines.
I can also clearly remember how Holi was celebrated. There was a huge Banyan tree underneath which we used to gather , all friends and family together with lots of colours (only dry ones were allowed, no water, no paint)..a group would start singing some devotional songs accompanied by drums and other instruments..the small statues of Radha and Krishna would be taken out of the temple..we would divide into two groups and start throwing colours at each other trying to outdo the other group.The red and the pink and the green and the yellow powders would colour the whole atmosphere around you..literally making life "colourful"!
Towards noon, this frenzy of activities would stop..we all went to the river to take a bath and wash off the colours. Meanwhile fishing nets were thrown in the lakes and ponds around, a village lady sat by the side of the pond with a frying pan...fresh fish was caught, cleaned and fried...as soon as we came out of the river , fresh fish fry was served!!
Hard to believe , isnt it? Such was the luxury....
The downside was that the village did not have toilets and electricity, two of the most important things we were used to in the cities!! We all had to go to the fields to do what we HAD to do. As the sun set, lanterns were lit all around the house lighting it up but with persistent eerie dark corners where the light failed to reach. We , the children would huddle round a villager who knew the most scary ghost stories and listen with wide eyes of disbelief as he narrated how the ghost resides on a tree in the far corner of the village. From time to time we would glance at the dark corners and huddle even closer together till the aroma of simple rice and curry hit our nostrils and we would get ready for dinner. Today I write about it as "downside" but at that point of time there was no other option. Looking back it gives me the shivers to think about life without a light switch and toilet paper!!When I hear stories about the village today with all houses having electricity and toilets, I find it difficult to believe. How on earth did we survive those three days THEN?
I have vivid memories of a kitchen where food was being cooked almost throughout the day....a big open space where we all sat to eat together....a big room where all of us slept on a make-shift bed on the floor...giggling and chatting till late at night..woken up by the early rooster call...feels like a dream as I write these lines.
I can also clearly remember how Holi was celebrated. There was a huge Banyan tree underneath which we used to gather , all friends and family together with lots of colours (only dry ones were allowed, no water, no paint)..a group would start singing some devotional songs accompanied by drums and other instruments..the small statues of Radha and Krishna would be taken out of the temple..we would divide into two groups and start throwing colours at each other trying to outdo the other group.The red and the pink and the green and the yellow powders would colour the whole atmosphere around you..literally making life "colourful"!
Towards noon, this frenzy of activities would stop..we all went to the river to take a bath and wash off the colours. Meanwhile fishing nets were thrown in the lakes and ponds around, a village lady sat by the side of the pond with a frying pan...fresh fish was caught, cleaned and fried...as soon as we came out of the river , fresh fish fry was served!!
Hard to believe , isnt it? Such was the luxury....
The downside was that the village did not have toilets and electricity, two of the most important things we were used to in the cities!! We all had to go to the fields to do what we HAD to do. As the sun set, lanterns were lit all around the house lighting it up but with persistent eerie dark corners where the light failed to reach. We , the children would huddle round a villager who knew the most scary ghost stories and listen with wide eyes of disbelief as he narrated how the ghost resides on a tree in the far corner of the village. From time to time we would glance at the dark corners and huddle even closer together till the aroma of simple rice and curry hit our nostrils and we would get ready for dinner. Today I write about it as "downside" but at that point of time there was no other option. Looking back it gives me the shivers to think about life without a light switch and toilet paper!!When I hear stories about the village today with all houses having electricity and toilets, I find it difficult to believe. How on earth did we survive those three days THEN?
I realize that few of us are lucky to have really been through such experiences. I cherish this set of memory and hold it close to my heart with hopes of visiting my village again some day in the future.
Here in Holland life is different. Holi is just like any other day. The alarm goes of at 6:30 as usual, we get ready for school and office. Nothing special.
So I decided to celebrate Holi my way this year by cooking a" colourful " dinner. I ransacked my larder and my refrigerator to see which colours I have available..and here is the result.
So I decided to celebrate Holi my way this year by cooking a" colourful " dinner. I ransacked my larder and my refrigerator to see which colours I have available..and here is the result.
I made "Beet root chicken" with "Aubergine-Zuccini-couscous".
Recipe of Beet root chicken
500 gms of boneless chicken (small pieces)
2 beet roots (make a coarse paste)
one tea spoon garlic paste
one tea spoon ginger paste
half Onion (chopped)
one tomato (chopped)
1 tea spoon of cumin powder
1 tea spoon of whole cumin seeds
a handful of brown raisins
Salt to taste
In a non stick pan, heat 1 table spoon of oil and add the whole cumin seeds. As it starts sizzling put the chopped onions , fry for 2 mins and add the garlic and ginger paste .Then add the chicken and the chopped tomatoes. As soon as the chicken change color, add the beet root paste, salt and the cumin powder. Let it cook for a while, then add a small cup of water and the raisins. Cover and cook.
Serve this "colourful" dish with couscous or white rice.....It looks and tastes beautiful.
500 gms of boneless chicken (small pieces)
2 beet roots (make a coarse paste)
one tea spoon garlic paste
one tea spoon ginger paste
half Onion (chopped)
one tomato (chopped)
1 tea spoon of cumin powder
1 tea spoon of whole cumin seeds
a handful of brown raisins
Salt to taste
In a non stick pan, heat 1 table spoon of oil and add the whole cumin seeds. As it starts sizzling put the chopped onions , fry for 2 mins and add the garlic and ginger paste .Then add the chicken and the chopped tomatoes. As soon as the chicken change color, add the beet root paste, salt and the cumin powder. Let it cook for a while, then add a small cup of water and the raisins. Cover and cook.
Serve this "colourful" dish with couscous or white rice.....It looks and tastes beautiful.
