Tuesday March 2, 2010

Before we left for the party, friends and relatives drifted in to put color on our foreheads and touch our feet. JP is dressed in formal white cotton pants and long top, closed with jeweled buttons. He is dressed so because he is the head of this family since his brother, Jagdish, has died. I am dressed in my fanciest suit with my gold bangles and earrings. I left my gold mangal sutra and another gold necklace in Gurgoan to be locked in the safe because I was afraid to travel on the train with them. So, Anita puts one of her gold necklaces around my neck as a bare neck is inappropriate. Their necks are considerably thinner than mine so it is uncomfortable for me, but I dutifully wear it for the party. I know they would really like me to dress in a sari, but it is just more than I can manage in this heat. All the women in the family are dressed to the nines in their silk saris and gold jewelry. Aradhana, like me, is dressed in a fancy suit. Bhabhi looks so pretty in her subdued silk sari, which is appropriate for a widow, and she puts color on me and JP as she blesses us.
The taxi is a half hour late as there are parties all over town this night as part of the Holi celebration. The party, which is hosted by Bhabhi's brother, was being held in a girl's college. When we arrived we were greeted by a young man throwing rose petals on us. This custom continued all evening until the floor was slippery with rose petals. The large room and the outside veranda were bathed in the smell of roses. I cannot imagine how many roses it took to produce that many petals. There were also many garlands of marigolds hanging everywhere. Most of the party was held outdoors under the huge, bright full moon. We estimated that there were about 400 people there total, as they came and went. The buffet was huge with the most delicious food India has to offer. The people here were actually members of one of the strands of the Agrawal clan. Bhabhi's maiden name was also Agrawal. This happens often as people marry within their own subcast. Everyone looks so beautiful. One sari is more gorgeous than the next. The Indian sense of color and design is unbelievable. I doubt if any of these people have ever spoken to an American before, but they certainly know of me and are very friendly. Movie music is blasting in the big room set with tables and I would love to get up and dance, but I am on my best behavior and just tap my foot.
This evening is the big party on the roof of the house to celebrate Arun and Smita Bahoo's 25th wedding anniversary. The house has been a beehive of activity all day. They are expecting about 200 people to come. Chairs, trays, plates, cups, etc. have been delivered and trucked up the very steep steps to the roof. The cooks are here beginning to chop vegetables for the big buffet. Ladies of the family are gathered together chatting in one room, men doing the same in the other. Honey, Micky's sister, who is very adept at mahendi, is painting Smita's hands and feet with intricate designs. In another room three people are filling paper boxes with different candies for a puja which will be performed before the party begins. The Hindu priest has just arrived. I was sorry to see that he is not the same young priest I had met before. I had had a good conversation with him on our last trip.
JP's niece is here and tells us of her brother who had a fancy shop in the hotel that was struck by terrorists several years ago in Mumbai. He had just closed his shop and headed home. By the time he got there, it was all over the news that terrorists had taken over the hotel. He was in shock. Everyday on the news we hear of another bombing somewhere in India. Is anyplace immune ?
Today is also Bhayya Duja, in which brothers honor their sisters. That is why the priest is here. Another way this culture has solidified family relationships. Traditionally brothers give their sisters a sari as part of the celebration. Guests are about to arrive.

Peace,
Nadine