One of the privileges of being a writer is meeting people like Vaijayanti Thakar, whose work is to connect, heal and, simply, love. Recently she remembered an unforgettable Holi celebration.
The month of March 2021 ended with the festival of colors, Holi. Traditionally, it is a time for people to come together and color one another. But this year the virus did not allow that. It kept revelry at a forced, colorless distance.
My friend, Vaijayanti, whose lifetime work is to care for others, shared the story of a different Holi celebration—with a group of blind girls.
Holi with those who see only black
Some years ago, she used to handle the corporate social responsibility (CSR) function of a company. When she invited volunteers to join her to celebrate Holi in an institution that cared for blind girls (some of them had limited vision), there were questions galore.
Is that a joke? How do you celebrate colors with someone who can see only black? How do you even spend three hours with them?
“When we arrived, the girls were all in their uniforms, sitting in a neat row. I asked them if they wanted to just sit there or play. They were immediately up with great enthusiasm,” Vaijayanti remembered.
She reminded her colleagues that everyone there had the same inner vision. It was just a question of letting go, of accepting, of sharing love.
They started with balloons. “Someone whispered a doubt. Can you blow a balloon without seeing it?”
You can and they did. The inhibitions began to crumble. The balloons made all of them little children again.
They sandwiched a balloon between one person and the next and made giggling trains that went on some merry trips. Not once did anyone fumble, touch the balloon or lose direction. They were too busy enjoying the journey.
Letting in, letting out
Back in the room, it was time for a fight with the balloons. It was the time to truly let go. There were several displays of aggression and anger. The black within was yielding to color. The balloons were harmless, but somehow, they were powerful in drawing out the deepest feelings.
“Then we held hands and went round and round. It was a time of connection, of reassurance.”
Out came the colors and the musical instruments. It was clear that art did not require perfect vision. And from chaos can emerge some wonderful music (again requiring more instinct than sight) that touches the heart.
“Those were a few short hours. We gave and gathered a lot of love. Often the canvas before our eyes is washed black, but everyone has a rainbow inside that is just waiting to come out.”
Before they reached that place, everyone was going on about blind girls. “When we left, blindness did not figure either in our conversations or in our silence.”
“Everyone has a right to love and be loved. It just takes effort. We were all lost in the little effort that we had made and what more we could do if we just let the colors enter our heart."
Images: Shirish Ghate. +91 98230 18328. firstname.lastname@example.org. Insta: sigafotopune