Take It Not Bad, This Is Holi Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

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.