The story
The demon king Hiraṇyakaśipu could not bear that his son Prahlāda worshipped Viṣṇu. His sister Holikā had a boon that fire could not touch her, so she sat in a pyre with the boy on her lap. The boon held only when she entered fire alone: she burned, Prahlāda walked out unharmed, and the bonfire is hers.
The colours are Kṛṣṇa's. Dark-skinned and jealous of fair Rādhā, he was told by his mother to colour her face whatever he liked, and the villages of Braj have thrown colour at one another ever since. At Barsānā the women drive the men of Nandgaon away with sticks (Lāṭhmār Holī) a week before the rest of India begins.
For one morning the ordinary lines of caste, age, sex and rank do not hold; anyone may colour anyone. Burā na māno, Holī hai: don't mind, it's Holī.
