Holi is a festival of joy, a festival to get to know each other better and wash out old grievances. Every man, woman and child has clothes drenched in
colour and faces smeared with coloured powder. Whether you are in a town or village, you must watch your step for a few days during Spring. As you are strolling along without a care in the world a balloon filled
with coloured water hurled from a balcony, roof-top or corner may explode on your clothes, or suddenly an unseen hand squirt you with coloured water spray. And if you are travelling by bus, it is wise to close the
windows, otherwise without any warning you may find your clothes dyed with hues of many colours.
In Mauritius it is summertime, season of shimmering heat and fruitfulness. The cyclones that are spawned in the vast expanse of the Indian Ocean are playing
a game of quilts with the far-flung islands of the Mascarenes bringing down heavy downpours of rain which make the sap run high in the cane and in the heart of many a youth. Although Holi has lost its economic and
agrarian relevance in Mauritius, it is celebrated with just as much verve and gusto here as in India.