Some bubbles you just can’t burst. And we don’t mean that metaphorically. Akbar Baadshah stands in a corner of Mint Street with what looks like a croquembouche of bubbles. He’s been selling them for 20 years and thinks they have greater potential than balloons. And with Holi round the corner, they make good replacements for water balloons. “You blow it, add some coloured water and you have something that’s cooler than a water gun,” says Baadshah.
Sci-fi fun
Meanwhile, the massive water guns hanging from the makeshift stores look like they disagree. Trendier in their new avatar, these seem like they are out of a sci-fi film. In blinding colours, it’s hard not to notice them. There are those with Minions, Transformers, Barbie and a bunch of other popular fictional characters. Some come with storage tanks in quirky shapes. “The gun is attached to the tank with a siphon. It can hold two litres of water. This way, you don’t have to stop for refills,” says M Ravi, as he sets up his shop. As he speaks, one can get the whiff of ripe papaya. “That’s from my shop. I sell fruits through the year. Around this time, I sell colours and pichkaris. Given the number of people in Sowcarpet who celebrate this festival, it makes sense to dabble in this business too. During Deepavali, I sell diyas,” he adds. This year, Ravi has bought stocks worth ₹ 1 lakh. He procures it from a wholesale shop on Narayana Mudali Street.
Mint Street is lined with about 15 other makeshift carts laden with vibrant colour powders and water-spouting apparatus. Boxes overflow with pichkaris, water guns, jars, drums and everything you could possibly want. Among the favourites is a three-foot pichkari in pink with charming Barbie prints. The owner is in a frenzy; he shouts out instructions on the phone and takes notes. A trail of retailers flood the outlet, picking out what they want and bargaining.
In the neighbouring stall, Guna neatly stacks packets of colours. This is Guna’s seasonal business. For the rest of the year, he deals with bed spreads. “The pukka colours have just arrived. It takes at least two days to wash them off. It’s ₹80 for a vial that holds two litres of water,” he adds.
Sagaya beckons us from across the road. “Some gold paint for you?” she asks, holding up a plastic dabba of shining gold powder. There’s silver, green, copper and pink. “See, this powder is black in colour, but once you mix it in water it turns pink,” she adds. Two college students from SRM University pop little sachets of colour into their bags. “Holi is a big deal in college. Students from all the years get together and play,” they add.
When the streets come alive
The shopkeepers say that business is a little slow, but it normally picks up closer to the day. This time, Holi falls on March 13. Although it is on Monday, in Sowcarpet, it’s like an extended weekend because every shop is shut.
Chandran, who makes sugarcane juice, has been a spectator of the festivities for five years now. Though he doesn’t actively participate, the revellers make sure they spray some colour on him as he makes fresh juice for them on the sun-soaked colour-drenched morning. “They are allowed to play only till noon. So they start by 7 am and continue till the police asks them to stop,” he says.
Ashok Kumar Vaishnav, who owns a chaat stall, has been playing Holi in Sowcarpet for the last 25 years and hasn’t tired of it. This year too, he says he’s looking forward to it with as much enthusiasm as his first time.
And then there are a few who are not big fans of the festival. Like the lady who sells greens and vegetables by the roadside. “Walking down this street is a nightmare on Holi day. It’s impossible for unsuspecting passers-by to emerge without any colour on them. Sometimes, people from roof tops throw buckets of colour water or balloons,” she says, chewing her paan and adds, “But it’s an occasion that brings everyone together. As much as I complain, I come here every year just to get some colour on me and share a few laughs with familiar faces and also complete strangers.”
