There were colours all around; in the air, on the ground, and every living being was covered covered in them. The surroundings were soaked in captivating essence of various flowers. People were dancing and cheering all around. The environment was filled with so much energy that the usually morbid beings looked as if they had been injected with a new variety of drug, something ecstatic. The sounds of laughter and joy together cultivated a state of bliss. The smiling faces burst into laughter every time a relatively clean person was soaked in colourful water or bombarded with water balloons.
Soon the thrilling yet peaceful environment was disturbed by the high pitched roaring of extremists, who came in groups, laden with balloons filled with dirty water and pockets filled with tacky colours bottles – the holi hooligans. The smiles faded away giving in to fear, and joy turned into hysteria as the hooligans infiltrated the gathering, celebrating in their own way, exploiting the virtue of a festival they were vaguely familiar with.
The music was still on, colours still soared the sky as the festivities continued, people still celebrating – some willingly and others unwillingly. No one objected and no one cried; the festival of colours, dull and bright.
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