Take It Not Bad, This Is Holi

A festival of colours, The trees in tender buds, The heat of the day beginning to fall And getting stronger, The winds to swirl With dust, dry leaves and loo. But the revellers and rowdies Drowned unto their full, Having taken bhang, Flying skywards and smiling Without any reason Or the seasoned ones Looking dulled. People sprinkling, spraying coloured waters On the passers-by, Run amuck, Dancing, singing and playing And lost in, Lost out of themselves. But Holi remains it not Holi, Turns into a rowdy road show, People flinging one another In the drains too, Taking narcotics and intoxicants, Addictive things to their full, Unable to walk on. Some people blackened looking like ghosts, The teeth too looking coloured, The cheeks smeared with Green, red, violet and brown colours And the sweetheart looking beautiful And freckled, Strange people are they, The Holi revellers.