In India, life revolves around family, and family is life. All festive dates - whether they are birthdays, religious holidays, or any other cause for celebration - are spent with family. Family forms the core of one 's essence, it provides strength in times of need, and there is always, always, always someone to talk to - simply because there are so many relatives with you at any given time.
Religious holidays are the greatest time of celebrations. Holi, the festival of color, is without a doubt the most enthusiastically celebrated of these. In Bombay, where most of my family lives, every Holy we would invite hundreds (I am not exaggerating here) relatives to our suburban bungalow for the celebration. Aunts, uncles, cousins, mothers-in-law (of which there are plenty due to the ready supply of siblings), grandparents, nieces, nephews - anyone who had even the most remote blood connection to the Dheer clan would join in. Going to the local market to buy colored powder, we took buckets full of water, dumped the powders in them, and proceeded to drench the hell out of each other. Not even strangers who just happened to be strolling by our front gate at the time were free from being