Growing up, Holi meant that spring was around the corner, and that people of all ages gathered to be kids again, lost in nostalgia and celebration.At the break of dawn we would ready our water guns, grab our packets of color and be off for an entire day of color war with adults, authorities, and other children. We would climb roofs and pour buckets of colored water on oblivious pedestrians. Among the many other inventive methods of coloring people, color filled water balloons were my favorite and they made for a good sport. At the end of the day the idea was to be covered in as many different colors as possible.When semi-permanent colors were used and the colors could not readily be scrubbed off, it was actually to my delight.  It was almost as if I wanted the colors to stay on me as a way of extending the holiday to tomorrow. As far as I was concerned, so long as the color stains remained, Holi was still going on and I remember so vividly that the following day every kid in school would wear their colored battle wounds from Holi with pride.