Holi is the color thrown without permission—
the blue that finds the white, the red that claims the air,
the permission to be joyful past the usual—
to love out loud, to laugh beyond the care.

The color says: today the walls are down,
today the formality surrenders,
today we play the way the children play,
today the self that usually defended

itself against the world opens its hands
and lets the rang fall where it wants to fall—
on friend and stranger, elder and the younger—
the festival that includes them all.
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