Holi Cow! by Devanshi Mody
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And, that’s what makes HH Maharani Padmini Devi’s annual traditional, yet trendy Holi Eve gala so special. Here, Rajputs from Jaipur’s thikanas convene to pay their respects to the royal family and make merry.
The Bollywood crowd and international elite have been known to attend this function, which Greg Chapel graced this year. There was no dearth of Indian royalty, writers or military commanders at the last celebrations, yet cameras were more interested in capturing random firangis who had made their way to the party. Such are the attractions of white skin, however freckled.
One woman chatted effusively to the ever elegant Raj Mata Gayatri Devi. No doubt our firangi was getting tips on where the royal style icon got her hair so beautifully styled (one hears at the Oberoi Raj Villas’s Silhouette Salon). The protracted presence of the firangi next to Raj Mata Gayatri Devi naturally excited curiosity. After all, she was monopolising a seat reserved for royalty.
Was she some VIP? The self-proclaimed Hollywood star declared she had “lived” for no less than seven years in the City Palace as the royal family’s “personal guest.” After becoming “bored” of palace life, however, she bought herself a house. One later heard that the superstar’s Hollywood film career comprised a two-second walk-on part in some obscure film and that she couldn’t afford rent. Looks like she’ll have to move back into the City Palace.
Such is the exemplary hospitality of the Jaipur royal family – that they might even entertain the likes of our drama queen. In any case, they certainly entertained their other guests. Invitees were greeted with flowers and tilaks and were led into the immense courtyards of the magnificently lit fairytale palace where Rajasthani musicians (including women in purdah) played haunting folk music.
The Maharaja chatted to guests. But, once the younger crowd arrived, Maharani Saheba, the life of the party, had everyone dancing – if not to her tune, then to the latest Bollywood tunes.
The very lovely and pristinely youthful Princess Dia in white traditional attire and exquisite diamond and ruby jewellery danced amidst the baisas (young Rajput ladies). One young lady demonstrated pelvic thrusts and hectic heaves so prodigious that she could teach Bipasha and Malika a step or two. After her energetic stint on the dance floor, she covered her head and said that she had to talk to her husband. But, decorum restrained: “Can’t go where he is – he’s drinking with all men.”
Gender segregation didn’t stop traditional earring-sporting banas (young Rajput gentlemen) from dancing impressively by the baisas. But, the showstopper was the eminently adorable four-year-old Prince Laksharaj, Princess Dia’s younger son. Whilst his older brother, the 10-year-old crowned prince, exuded all the dignity his role required, the little one danced away to glory with his sister, Gowri.
“These kids know all the latest moves,” Princess Dia was later heard saying. “Now, we have to learn from them.”
Royal guests (mostly in Rajasthani attire, but some sporting flamboyant beach shirts) were more interested in drinking and dancing than in the buffet dinner (notwithstanding the crisp, hot, made-before-you jalebis). No wonder the party was still in full swing with blaring music at 2.00 a.m.
Some guests admitted that they couldn’t leave until her Highness granted permission. The party was the perfect confluence of tradition and modernity where Rajputana conservatism, courtesies and customs co-mingled with cool partying.
This was amply demonstrated during the actual Holi day celebrations in the delightful palace gardens. There wasn’t any of the kurta-phad Holi-playing that I had been warned against, for which I came duly equipped wearing rags and dripping in oil from head to foot to guard against colours that apparently wouldn’t fade for a fortnight.
But, Holi playing was much civilised at City Palace with mercifully herbal colours used. Nevertheless, I opted for being a detached observer rather than partaking in the revelry and was determined that the most adventurous thing I would do was try bhang.
But, her Highness would have none of it. She engaged me in conversation whilst I suddenly found myself picked up and dumped into the pool. The young boys later sheepishly confessed that they would never have had the guts to do what they did but were simply obeying Maharani Saheba’s orders.
What to do? Clearly, Maharani has to be the hippest and most fun maharani around and knows how to throw a party. Forget Mumbai City and Delhi City. Jaipur City Palace is the most happening place to be!
Munnu of Gem Palace fame thought so, too: he was as resplendent as the gems in his boutique by the end of play. And, there was no end for the naughty little Prince Laksharaj who enjoyed himself thoroughly and was a treat to watch.
Munnu and his motley band of foreign guests apart, Rajputs this year were more pre-occupied with debating significant issues and their implications for the Rajput community than in playing Holi. Needless to say, the Jodha Akbar ban in Rajasthan was the hot topic of conversation. Everybody raved that the ethereal Aishwarya Rai impeccably portrayed a Rajput princess, and Hrithik was to-die-for.
Everyone also seemed to enjoy a vicarious thrill out of the explosive chemistry between Hrithik and Ash. I, too, got carried away and said to someone, “Shouldn’t Ash have married Hrithik?” The lady replied bemusedly, “Hrithik is my son-in-law.” Well, almost. She introduced herself as Fardeen Khan’s mother and Suzanne’s aunt.
Oops. I promptly proceeded to stuff my mouth with half a dozen fabulous Marwadi sweetmeats – better than putting my foot in my mouth again.
Later, when I was washing my hands using ash, the young, glam and gregarious Maharani of Santrampur would quip, “If Hrithik can’t have Ash, at least you can!”