Cultural Links

Phagwah- A communal festival or
a religious observance?

Phagwah, the Indian festival of Spring will be observed on Wednesday, March 6, 1996. In countries such as Guyana, parts of India, Mauritius, Suriname and Trinidad the festival is now a public holiday. In New York, among the Caribbean community in Queens, celebrations have been planned with a march in Richmond Hill, and at least two Miss Phagwah Beauty Pageants. Many people give many interpretations of what this festival really represents. Considering that India, where the festival originated, Hindu legend and folklore varies from region to region, it is not surprising that so many different interpretation exist.

The origin of the festival probably goes way back into the dim recess of ancient history, a period when people walked the "path of truth," with a strong belief of "the Universal Brotherhood of Man." In those days the festival was called "Navaneshti Yang," and was closely associated with village customs of parts of rural north India. Although it.is observed in many Northern States in India, there are many indications that Phagwah could have originated out of the region which includes parts of Uttar Pradesh, Madhya Pradesh and Bihar - a geographic area which generated Bhojpuri culture. Farmers offered their first grain to the "village gods" in thanks for a bountiful harvest, a custom which was practiced millennia before the time of Lord Rama. From region to region the name underwent changes until they began calling the festival "Hola" and as time continued its journey into the future, it became "Holi."

Some forty or forty-six days before the festival, villagers observed "Vasand Panchami," a day when a castor oil tree was planted into the earth, symbolizing a returning gesture of gratitude to Matri Bhumi (Mother Earth). During the next forty to forty-six days, people went through a cleansing period of prayer, abstinence and paying attention to their livestock and agricultural produce. Holi ended on the full moon night in the month of Phalgun and signified the beginning of Spring. Farmers built huge bonfires above the castor oil tree previously planted and made their offerings to the fire. They danced around the bonfire, singing religious folk songs. The following day, people celebrated with boisterous joy and gave thanks for a bountiful harvest. "Abhir" or herbal colored water and perfumes were sprayed on each other, and "gulat" (colored powder) was thrown or daubed on faces. It is claimed that gulal and abhir were effective medical cleansers for the skin. Various sweet dishes were made and exchanged and it was a day of great festivity.

Centuries afterwards, the festival was associated with the Hindu saint, Prahlada, and his victory over his evil, dictator father, King Hiranya Kashyapu. This story has its origins in the seventh "askandha"(chapter) of the fifth "ad)yay" (section) of the Shrimad Bhagvata. A king who had attained much power and wealth, Hiranya, became an oppressor of his people and eventually challenged the omnipotence of God. The people of his land were ordered to start worshipping him as the only god in the world. Many people were killed for disobeying this law and there was much turmoil in the land Prahlada, who was.a great devotee of Lord Vishnu, the Hindu aspect of"God the preserver of all that is," defied his father's edict and continued practicing the rituals and ceremonies to the Hindu Trimurti. He soon had a large following who also defied the king's edicts. Hiranya proclaimed that his son be put to death - "if there was any Cod who was greater than the king himself, surely that God would come and save Prahlada. Ostracized by the court, Prahlada was eventually imprisoned, and bore many indignities from the authorities but he continued to chant the mantra and the name of Lord Vishnu. Condemned to death, he was helplessly bound with iron chains and the court elephants were brought to trample him to death. As the elephants approached the Prince, they all knelt before him, for even the animals recognized his saintliness. When bound hand and foot and thrown in the river to drown, Prahlada came back safe and sound.

Hiranya was furious and sent for his royal sister, Princess Dhundali, a witch who had the gift of magic. Dhundali had a protective veil surrounding her life and could not be harmed by any elements in the world. They planned that she would take her nephew, Phahlada in her arms and they would sit together in the sacrificial fire. The fire blazed for hours and eventually extinguished itself. By chanting the name of God, Prahlada was saved from the fire as his wicked aunt perished. The people were now convinced that there was a God and that Prahlada had to be a saint to come out of such tribulations without any harm to himself.

They began playing with the ashes, rubbing their foreheads with the substance and greeting each other with love and joy. They sang and danced to celebrate the victory of good over evil. This event happened in the city of Multan, an area where the soil is red in color.

As a child growing up in the early 1 950s in Georgetown, Phagwah and Diwali were very special days for my family. My mother, who was blessed with the art of story-telling wove pictures of magic, bringing alive the entire range of Hindu lore into our lives. At that time, Phagwah was not as largely celebrated as it is now, but. my grandparents, great aunts, parents, sisters, brothers and our Hindu cousins would lay in the compounds of my grandparents' home. We rose early in the morning, cleansed ourselves and performed a short religious spiritual. Then, the fun began. We would all scream in delight as we threw abhir and gulal on each other. The elders played more gracefully spraying perfumes on each other. Children and young people were not allowed to disrespect the elders, so many of us would just make A tilak mark of red powder on the foreheads of the older people around us. Before noon: we had our second bath. Cleaned and dressed in crisply starched kurtas and dhotis we all sat down to a mouth-watering feast of Indian delicacies which included the alu curry, dhals, "karhi," and various "subzi' dishes of green vegetables topped with generous helpings of "dahi'. Many delicious "mithai" were made; things like "kheer","lacto", "gojha", "gulab jamoon", "pera", "badam lacha", "mohan bhog", and "panjiri". The city's surrounding townships and villages such as Kitty, Campbellville, Alexander Village and Albouystown erupted for hours with much mirth and joy.

Phagwah was a day when every Hindu was outfitted with a new set of lily-white clothes which were discarded after being horoughly stained with celebrations. But for days following, the red glow of abhir still emanated from- our face and limbs. I reimember returning to school the following day: where we were admonished by the Roman Gatholic nuns practicing "paganism". Days after Phagwah, our skin would be tinged with the red glow of abhir. Even our Indian Christian relatives and other chilren jeered us. One incident in particular, prompted my grandmother, the .hte Alice: Bhagwandai Singh, to go andgive them a piece of her mind. I am. sure the nuns regretted this unfortunate incident.

In the rural districts of Guyana the festival acquired a more rollicking and frolicking quality, unencumbered by city restrictions and attitudes. Visiting with family on the Leonora Estate (my father's birthplace) 1. quickly learned that farmers and estate laborers across the length and breadth of Guyana celebrated with much exhilaration and caprice for weeks after the official day of Phagwa, indulging in ribalry with mad ahandon. In Grove Village, where I lived for nearly three years, activities were unrestrained excitement. Phagwah celebrated formed bands who were noted for traversing "back streets" and "back dams", carrying pails of water and abhir for dousing friends, acquaintances and, at times, strangers and passers-by. Often, villagers and friends were forced to enjoy the cool, coffeecolored waters when they were hurled into the punt trenches, emerging as good sports, covered with good Guyana mud like real children of the Earth!

Years later I lived in West Bengal and then went on to New Delhi. In Bengal, at Santiniketan, the festival was celebrated with much group singing and dancing as people paraded around the village. They played with gulal and much water. In Delhi and other parts.of North India, however, each person was offered a glass of "bhang" in a mixture of milk and crushed almonds. This practice was widespread in India. On my return to Guyana in the early 1 970s the festival had truly become a National Festival. People of all races: .indulged in the merriment which became synonymous with the festival. Here, in New York, Phagwah is celebrated in a grand manner. Hopefully,the celebrants will remember the spiritual and religious' qualities the festival symbolizes.

Finally, here is a poem which my mother wrote in 1947. As little children we would eagerly sing the Iyrics and scream in childish delight as we threw gulal on each other.

"Phalgun"

There is a cool caress
In the breeze that hails the Spring
Young leaves rustle joyously
And birds thrill on the wing
The sky a painter's canvas is
Soft-flecked, blue-hued with green
And to the wind the flowers strew
A strangely sweet perfume
The verdant Earth throbs maddeningly
all hearts beat in tune
God Nature whispers impishly
"Tis time to live anew"

Rajkumari Singh (1923 -1979)