I like the multilayered ways in which Judaism measures time, how it acknowledges time’s flowing and circular character. In total, Judaism counts four new years that begin at different dates — Rosh Hashanah being the most obvious one. While Tishrei and Elul mark the first and last months of the civil year—5778—Nisan and Adar are the first and last months of the year that determines the religious observance of all festivals.

This poem is supposed to be an allegorical reflection on the relationship between Pesach in Nisan and Purim in Adar – two festivals that celebrate redemption. Also, the days and weeks between festivals are often important passages in Judaism, and this is especially true for the time we are in right now, leading from Purim in the month of happiness (Adar) up to Pesach in the month of freedom (Nisan).

Purim was a charming imp,

leaping, humming, singing; smiling

in the safety of his mother’s lap.

He turned heads with gifts of food and laughter.

The happiest of brothers,

he got away with his transgressions;

he was different, sensitive,

a special child of concealed zeal,

miraculously cheerful in somber hours.

He made everyone forget

what they were enjoined to remember.

Pesach watched his youngest brother

with the vigor of the first-born son.

Like their father,

he had an outstretched arm, a strong hand,

but Purim warmed Pesach’s earnest heart,

despite feelings of superiority,

a beat or two of jealousy,

despite the burden he was enjoined to carry.

The laws.

The blood dripping from cups of freedom.

They were one.

A family’s tale of two-fold redemption,

bound together on the calendar. 

Photo by Matt Hecht

The post ‘Two Brothers’ appeared first on Jewcy.

Unlike some Jewish holidays (we’re looking at you, Tisha B’Av!), Purim is meant to be fun and celebratory. People dress up in costumes and wave around groggers (noisemakers). The Talmud encourages Jews to drink so much that they can’t tell the difference between Haman and Mordechai.

Here’s a Purim punk playlist for making a racket and drinking too much. If you truly embrace the spirit of Purim, you’ll break your leg while partying, hook up with Haman, and be too hung over to go to morning minyan.

Schmekel: Homotaschen

“Homotaschen” does more than recount a wild Purim escapade involving sex with Haman. It takes the model of typical Purim celebration—drinking to the point of confusion—and applies that spirit to the lyrics. Lucian Kahn, singer/guitarist of the transgender Jewish punk band Schmekel, explained:

All throughout the song, there are things that are slightly wrong or upside-down or on their head. … It says that they’re at the court of King Antiochus, who’s actually the king in the Hanukkah story. There’s just a confused conglomeration of views on Israel/Palestine, where everyone’s confused, and then the narrator decides to just go sleep with the biggest enemy imaginable. Like, “We’re going to avoid this moral debate and, just, like, go have sex with Haman!” Haman turns out to be also pretty gender-ambiguous, where you get “he” and “she” pronouns for Haman at different points in the song. … During the song, you’re supposed to be really confused about what everyone’s identity is and what’s happening and why.

The Groggers: Not Going to Shacharis

While the Groggers don’t have any songs about Purim, they are included here because they took their name from the Purim noisemakers. “We’re making noise. We’re loud and obnoxious,” explained front man L.E. Doug Staiman. The Jewish pop-punk band has made many hilarious videos, including this catchy ditty about refusing to go to shacharis (the morning prayer service). Parents, a doctor, a rabbi, a priest, and a yeshiva cheerleader all fail to get Staiman out of bed. Despite his efforts to the contrary, Staiman winds up being the 10th man for minyan. Maybe this song will inspire you to stay in bed and skip the morning megillah reading.

Yidcore: Shalosh Pinot

Yidcore had songs for most holidays, and that includes Purim—just barely. Lasting about 6 seconds, “Shalosh Pinot” is Yidcore’s shortest song. Why beat around the bush? At breakneck speed, it might be hard to decipher the Hebrew lyrics about Haman’s three-corner hat. They declare that the hat has three corners, three corners the hat has, and if it didn’t it wouldn’t be Haman’s hat. It’s a fun song for kids to sing, albeit not a profound one.

Aaron Alexander: Kleyzmish Moshpit

Hasidic New Wave drummer Aaron Alexander kicked off his solo album, Midrash Mish Mosh, with “Kleyzmish Moshpit.” Alexander had backgrounds in both punk rock and the Jewish music world and said he “wanted to reflect” their commonalities. Having seen “people in a mosh pit” at a punk show and “guys break their legs dancing on Purim at the Chabad house,” he thought the “intense dancing” and energy were “similar.” Play it loud!

For more information about these artists and other Jewish punk bands, check out Michael Croland’s book, Oy Oy Oy Gevalt Jews and Punk.

Photo courtesy of Chabad of Cambridge.

The post Purim Punk Playlist appeared first on Jewcy.

Imagine if the night of Purim you could walk into the home of Queen Esther. A drink in your hand—let’s say, a Huntsman… or even better, a HuntsHaman—you’d let her transport you into her sensual, mysterious world.

Maybe you’re in fifth-century B.C. Persia. Or maybe you’re in Trump-era New York City. It doesn’t really matter: let your imagination run wild…

A powerful and brave figure in the Jewish tradition, Esther will be at the center of an immersive performance taking place for two nights this week in Brooklyn, New York. FolksbieneRU, the Russian division of the National Yiddish Theatre Folksbiene (also affiliated with Genesis Philanthropy Group), has created this new interactive theatrical experience, House of Esther, as a creative way for New Yorkers to celebrate the Jewish holiday of Purim.

The eponymous heroine of the book of Esther is many things— seductress, regal queen, savior of the Jewish people. So this work might better be titled House of Esthers, given that Esther’s multifaceted nature is fractured into several entirely different people.

“The event explores the many faces of Esther,” said Lena Kushnir from the National Yiddish Theatre, explaining that the show will show six different characters inspired by Queen Esther, who will each emerge as a different strong, sexy, modern woman. Think of it as the Jewish answer to Sleep No More, the hit interactive experience that’s been running in New York since 2011 (House of Esther is content to run for two days, coinciding with the beginning and end of the holiday). 

Audience members will explore the space at their own pace and dive into a series of  thought-provoking, sexually-charged scenes involving the six Esthers. At the end of the performance, the space will transform into a club, with a bar selling Purim-inspired drinks, such as Queen’s Landing and Paper Cut.

So if you’re tired of feeling like Purim is a holiday for kids, it’s time to have a definitively more adult experience.

House of Esther is playing at The Paper Box on Wednesday and Thursday at 8 p.m. Entry is 21+, tickets are selling for 25$ online, 30$ at the door.

The post A Very Sexy Purim appeared first on Jewcy.

Jews tend to have strong opinions when it comes to hamantaschen filling. Is poppyseed weird, or is it the only authentic kind of filling out there? Is even something as popular as chocolate hamantaschen a complete abomination before God? If that’s true, after this cookie-butter filling experiment, I’m more than doomed.

My mother, who used to be a professional baker, makes only three flavors of hamantashen: poppyseed, cherry, and “pinecot” (her mother’s special pineapple apricot jam recipe). Only she and one of my siblings like the poppyseed kind; all too aware that we were not fully respecting our heritage, the rest of us opted for the fruit flavors.

I have a distinct memory of making and eating peanut butter chocolate chip hamantaschen at my Jewish preschool, and always wished my mother would make that. She never obliged. Or maybe I never even asked. That was one Jewish food battle I was sure to lose. Even as a young child, I think I knew I should feel guilty about the fact that I liked peanut butter chocolate chip hamantaschen more than prune or poppyseed. A shande.

But now that I am an adult with my own kitchen, I can make any kind of hamantashen that I want. I didn’t want to go out of my way to buy fillings, though, so I decided to make do with what I already had: some raspberry jam that was too sweet for the purpose for which I bought it (adding to Greek yogurt), and… what was that in the pantry?

Thus it is with a strange mix of guilt and triumphant defiance that I present to you: Cookies and Creme Cookie Butter Hamantaschen.

If you like Oreos, you must try this cookie butter, which tastes like the delicious sandwich cookie but in creamy form sort of the consistency of Nutella, plus crunchy cookie crumb bits. It’s sickeningly delicious. I have extolled its virtues to many a slightly horrified friend, forced my boyfriend to eat it on pancakes, and tried and failed to steer clear of its siren call during many trips to the basement of the Upper West Side Trader Joe’s.

The thing with Cookies and Creme Cookie Butter, though, is that there’s no real good way to eat it besides with a spoon, straight out of the jar, which tends to come with a heaping side of self-loathing. Its advertising even seems to acknowledge that it’s delicious but has no real use, offering what feels like half-hearted serving suggestions and then relenting: “Spread on pancakes or waffles. Serve on ice cream. Dip pretzels. Or eat right out of the jar. What don’t you do with something this delicious?”

The best “use” I’ve discovered for the tasty treat is spreading it on Oreos to make a double Oreo sandwich. But given that I want to live past the ripe old age of twenty-three, I don’t plan to make a habit of that, and I had just a couple spoonfuls of a jar left. So what did I do?

I decided to use it as a hamantaschen filling. Here is the verdict:

It held together better than the hamantaschen filled with jam, which tends to ooze a bit if you don’t thicken it with cornstarch, which I did not have on hand. I wasn’t sure what would happen to the gooey consistency of the cookie butter upon baking, but it pretty much stayed the same. The crunchy chocolate cookie bits burned a little bit, but it still tasted good. Overall, 10/10 would recommend if you enjoy Oreos, have a Trader Joe’s nearby, and are okay with making some of your ancestors roll over in their graves.

I’m sorry, Mom. I’m sorry, HaShem. But it was pretty tasty.

Miranda Cooper is an editorial intern at Tablet. Follow her on Twitter here.

Photos by Miranda Cooper

The post Cookie-Filled Hamantaschen appeared first on Jewcy.

Hello, comrades. I’m sure you’re all busy putting together your costumes for Jewcy’s upcoming Purim Pun-A-Palooza. So now is a good time to remind you to stop and consider whether your costume is actually a good idea.

For example, you want to dress as a person from another background ethnicity? OK, rule #1 is no makeup that makes you look like another race.

It’s 2017, and that still seems confusing to some. So, if you don’t know, here’s why:

There’s a history, particularly in the United States, of white people dressing in costume as other races in order to make fun of them. No matter how someone may try to do it today, wearing blackface has roots in performance that was used to mock stereotypes of African Americans. In addition to creating broad caricatures, the arts have a history of casting white actors as people of color, and that’s a one-way street— it keeps non-white actors from being able to play their own ethnicities, and therefore, any role.

But you probably hear this every Halloween— what does it have to do with Purim?

While we can sit around all day and debate the whiteness of light-skinned Jews, we’ve definitely been part of the problem in this regard. Al Jolson infamously performs in blackface in The Jazz Singer (and lots of other times throughout his career), and he was far from the only Jewish performer to do so; it was actually quite common. Edward G. Robinson, Paul Muni, and Joel Grey, great Jewish actors, have all performed onscreen in yellowface.

Well, we can’t change the past. But you know what we can do? Stop dressing in offensive costumes for Purim.

Some people legitimately don’t think that they’re mocking a race by using them as the subject of a costume. But here’s the thing: it doesn’t matter what your intent is. If a minority community overwhelmingly communicates that an aspect of emulating them for a costume is offensive, and you do it anyway, what does that say about your respect for others?

Finally, Purim is about subverting social order, about mocking those in power, and using humor to address otherwise challenging issues. Even outside of race, if your costume is intended to mock someone who’s already put-upon? That’s just lazy. You can do better. Don’t you know that those inflatable T-Rex costumes are less than $100!? WHY WOULD YOU PASS UP ON AN OPPORTUNITY LIKE THAT JUST TO MAKE YOUR FRIENDS HATE YOU?

And the thing is, it’s definitely going to happen this year (did you know think pieces don’t solve all social ills?). We’ve all seen questionable Halloween costumes, and we’ve all seen questionable Purim costumes, and we will again. Remember when Dov Hikind, the Brooklyn Assemblyman, dressed in blackface for Purim back in 2013? You can barely call his response an apology. For some New Yorkers, that’s their association with Purim.

And if none of this is news to you, and you would never wear a costume like this? Then consider this your reminder that if you’re at a Purim party with someone in an offensive outfit, you’re obligated to say something. Don’t go on the attack, and don’t do it in front of others; that will only make them defensive. Just take them aside and politely explain why their costume is a problem; they legitimately might not know.

And if you’re still stumped for costume ideas? Be Cher Horowitz. You’re welcome.

Image of absolutely terrifying, but not offensive Purim costumes via Wikimedia.

The post Don’t Wear That Costume appeared first on Jewcy.

When considering this year’s options, we realized Today is International Women’s Day (and the Women’s General Strike). And so, here are a list of Jewish women you should portray for Purim (though anyone of any gender can rock these looks!).

Specifically, these are fictional women, because 1) Reality is too weird and surreal right now, 2) These figures are culturally iconic, and 3) Someone at that party is already going to be the Notorious R.B.G., so you might as well go a different route:

Cher Horowitz belongs at the top of this list. Do we need to explain why? As if! Good luck picking just one look, though we suggest the yellow plaid. Besides, now is her time:

Baby Houseman from Dirty Dancing, OF COURSE! Wear a tank top and jean shorts, or capris with a shirt tied above your navel. When in doubt, carry a watermelon. Make a male partner wear all black and generally look like Patrick Swayze. Everybody wins. Bonus points for doing the lift.

Rebecca of York (from Ivanhoe) isn’t as big of a name as some of the others on this list, but she’s A) great and B) an excuse to recycle your garb from the Renaissance Faire (if you’re the type of person to choose this costume, you already have the dress). Plus, real life icon/Jewish woman Elizabeth Taylor played her— consider it a layered reference.

Batwoman, the superhero alter-ego of Kate Kane, is both Jewish, and gay— did you know? Rock the bodysuit. She has an A+ cape:

Kitty Pryde is another Jewish superhero (her queerness isn’t canon, but boy are there some convincing think pieces), and she has the benefit of changing her costume every freaking five minutes. Your possibilities are endless. And pretty please, someone, anyone, do the costume where she wears striped thigh-highs and roller skates.

Once, for Purim I dressed as how Kitty Pryde would dress if she were Wolverine for Purim. Yes, really:

Willow Rosenberg is the last niche, geeky choice on the list. But she’s a great one— gay, Jewish, a literal witch. Bonus points if you’re Vampire Willow (which also works if you have dark hair rather than red).

Fran Fine. Beehive. Leopard print. Nasal impersonation that will get you kicked out of a party. Go kill it.

Rhoda Morgenstern is one of the most important Jewish women on TV— way before Rebecca Bunch or Grace Adler, and boy did she have style. Find your most 70s shirt, and tie a scarf on your head. Voilà— an homage to Valerie Harper.

We confess that this list is disappointingly white— Jewish fictional characters skew way more homogeneous than we actually are, and rare Jews of color in media tend to be male. But there is Cristina Yang from Grey’s Anatomy who’s both Asian-American and Jewish (and scrubs and a name tag make for an easy costume). And written fiction offers significantly more options, like in the fantasy world of Shira Glassman (also, bonus points because it’s super queer). It’s not as obvious a choice as Cher, but we have to build our icons somehow.

Pretty please tweet us pictures of your costume! And hurry— you only have a few days left!

Images via Wikimedia, except for the embarrassing one of the writer, via Facebook.

The post Iconic Fictional Jewish Ladies to Emulate for Purim appeared first on Jewcy.

If you can’t wait until Jewcy‘s Purim Pun-A-Palooza to get in to the holiday spirit, this weekend you can start getting your Purim freak on with the freakiest of celebrations— the JFREJ Purim Spiel.

A step back: JFREJ is Jews for Racial and Economic Justice, and most of the year they organize political and community actions— think marches, training, protests. A Purim spiel is the Jewish tradition of a comic play that retells the holiday story, often with music, satire, irreverence. And when you combine the two? You get this year’s performance: JEWS WITH THORNS: A Purimshpil & Masqurade Ball.

The spiel is the baby of JFREJ’s partner: the Afselokhis Spectacle Committee— a collective of local artists, visual, musical, theatrical, you name it (all paid for their work), as well as several political action groups, Jewish and not. (Yiddish performance artist Jenny Romaine is generally at the helm, and her partner in crime was the late, great, Adrienne Cooper.)

The project began in 2002, and past productions have included Giant Puppet Purim Ball Against the Death Penalty, Rehearsal for the Downfall of Shoeshine: An Immigrant Justice Purim Spectacular!, Roti and Homentaschn: The Palace Workers Revolt! A Purim Carnival Spectacular, Your Homentaschen Are Killing Me! A Purim Ball for the body, its resilience, its fragility, and its bounce!… you get the general idea.

And what actually happens in these plays? They are definitely better experienced than described, but let’s just say that Purim is about turning society on its head, and JFREJ got the memo. Imagine running with that, with an unapologetically political bite. Last year, Vashti was a deposed queer leader of her people. The year before, Esther went by ze/hir pronouns and literally donned white-face to subsume hir racial identity and blend in with privileged palace life. All this while maybe a local band plays, or a spoken-word artist pauses the narrative to deliver a poem. The sets are made of all sorts of found-objects and simple supplies. Glitter is probably involved.

The story follows the general trajectory of Purim; or at least the stock characters are there. Haman represents institutionalized evil (though who knows what form he takes any given year), and some other characters (though maybe not the ones you would expect) resist. While the play changes greatly year to year, there will be some constants. There will be puppets. There will be music. There will be radical politics, and don’t expect to be comforted just because you’re the member of any particular oppressed group. In short, it will be Brechtian AF. Lather, rinse, go to the after-party.

The after-party is a spectacle in and of itself. It’s decidedly adult; you’re just as likely to see someone wearing leather as dressed as a superhero. You’re also just as likely to run into queer gentile acquaintances as traditional Jewish friends. It’s definitely a open free space for experimentation of expression. If you have a costume idea not quite tznius enough for the Megillah reading next weekend, try it out here. If you just want to rock jeans and a t-shirt, go anyway, with an open mind.

If you want the quieter, chiller evening, sans party, check out the spiel’s dress rehearsal tonight (doors 7:30, show at 8). You’ll still get the full joy of the performance, but for better or worse, without the energy of a bunch of leftists crammed into a space together. If you want to go all-out (and you should), attend the event this Saturday night, March 4th, doors at 7:45, show at 8:30. If you have kids, consider the Sunday family Purim carnival, from 12 to 4 p.m. The location for all of these is East Midwood Jewish Center, 1625 Ocean Avenue in Brooklyn.

Be there, or be part of what the spiel has called the “white Christian hetero-patriarchy.”

Photos of this year’s play in rehearsal by Erik R. McGregor.

The post The Radical Queer Purim Spiel You MUST Attend appeared first on Jewcy.

Purim is nearly upon us! And we’re willing to go on record; it’s the best holiday of the year. Costumes. Condoned drinking (responsibly, guys). Entire gift baskets of treats. A narrative with elements of feminism and a general cause for societal subversion. Basically, it’s all the fun of Halloween, plus more, minus the scary bits. And this year’s Purim marks a year since Jewcy came back— so we’re going to party hard the best way we know how— puns.

That’s right, it’s a knock-down, drag-out Purim Pun-A-Palooza, where we will be crowning our Purim King/Queen/Gender-Non-Specific Monarch based on who makes the best puns in our competition. (You can’t tell from the name of our website how excited we are about this plan?)

We have extra special guest judges: First (alphabetically) is Stephanie Butnick of Tablet Magazine and the Unorthodox Podcast.  Next is Nat Bernstein from the Jewish Book Council. Finally, we have journalist and all-around hijinks-imbued Iris Mansour.

There will be prizes, candy for all, surprises, aggressive shenanigans. If you’re interested in competing, email Gabriela@Jewcy.com to sign up. You’ll get more details, including being asked to prepare a short pun-laden monologue, but you’ll also need to be ready to come up with jokes on the fly. Anyone is welcome— the more the merrier. If you’re on the fence, go for it.

We don’t want to have to me-guilt-ah you about this. Don’t be P(u)rim about it, and it’s OK if other people Eh-stare.

Hey, we never said we were the Gender-Non-Specific Purim Monarch. We’re just throwing the party.

This event is the day after Purim, but if you’re competing, or just want to watch it all go down, you’re still encouraged to come in costume— especially pun-based costumes. There may also be a prize for the best one…

The party is in Brooklyn (of course), Monday, March 13th. Doors open at 7, the puns start zinging at 7:30.

Admission is FREE, with a 2-drink minimum.

The venue is Halyards bar, 406 3rd Ave, Brooklyn, New York 11215 (and if you eat non-kosher dairy out, their kitchen serves a mean personal pizza).

If you have any questions at all, please email Gabriela@Jewcy.com.

You can find the event on Facebook here.

Image via Pinterest.

The post ANNOUNCING: Jewcy’s Purim Pun-A-Palooza! appeared first on Jewcy.

Yes, Haman is the more malicious character in Megillat Esther, amping up fantasies of petty revenge into attempted genocide. But he’s also straightforward and consistent. He insinuates that he started from nothing, and now he wants everything, and almost has it. He’s egotistical, but cunning and cautious, his ambition at least slightly tempered by common sense. Unlike Bigtan and Teresh, he doesn’t want to overthrow the king, just reap the benefits at being his right hand. Like when he’s forced to honor Mordechai, Haman toes the line when he knows it’s better to bide his time.

Achashverosh, on the other hand, is power and privilege writ large. Haman, it would seem, climbed the social ladder due to some sort of meritocracy, but the king was born into his position. He’s an example of not only absolute power corrupting absolutely, but it creating an absurd monster of a man.

Esther has always been a puzzling character in the Megillah, and her actions sometimes seem convoluted or confusing. Why, for example, does she invite Achashverosh and Haman to two different parties before summoning up the courage to confront them? Even then, her language seems somewhat stilted and restrained. She vocally insists that were only the freedom of her people at stake, as opposed to their lives, she would have remained silent. Esther as a puzzle has inspired analysis and Midrash for centuries. But look at her husband.

Achashverosh is a man who exiled (or perhaps killed) his queen because she refused him one command. He ordered the kidnapping of young girls to be taken as his concubines, ruining their prospects for a normal life. Despite his multitude of women, they would only even see him if he asked for them by name, leaving those he has forgotten to languish in what is essentially a pretty prison. Maybe it would be better to avoid notice altogether, but favor from the king seems to be an important currency— after all, the head eunuch helps Esther find favor because he likes her.

A man who forgot about a person who saved his life, as the king does with Mordechai, is definitely not going to remember the name of every girl he has forcibly taken from her home.

Achashverosh is a man of temper, who acts out like a child when angry, and then reassures himself by being magnanimous later. When Mordechai asks Esther to intervene on behalf of the Jews, she explains that approaching the king without being called risks death, and that he has not asked to see her in a month.

It’s been a month, and the king has not asked to see his queen— a king who disposed of the last queen because he got angry and was surrounded by cronies who egged him on. It seems ludicrous that Esther should be afraid to see her own husband, who chose her so deliberately and above so many others, but who knows what that last meeting was like? What if Esther displeased the king, and felt relieved to escape intact?

Esther knows Achashverosh well, and it’s clear that knowing him means fearing him. He’s a man with power he doesn’t deserve, and it turns him into a monster. Doesn’t that sound familiar?

At the end of the first party, either she falters, or realizes that the moment isn’t right. Achashverosh is unpredictable and all-powerful, and the two combined make him more dangerous than the rest of the Purim characters together, with all their planning and deliberation.

Achashverosh is often portrayed as absurd, a drunken fool who would rather throw parties than pay attention to his kingdom. But he’s a man who has never had to learn empathy, or real consequence. He’s just as likely to condone mass murder as he is to host a feast, and as a result, rules by terror of his dual nature, if unconsciously, like a Persian Bacchus. He treats men as his pawns and women as objects, the latter even past the usual  tropes about harems.  He’s a caricature, sure, but only of real men with real power, to this day.

Esther and Mordechai emerge victorious at the end of the Megillah, either because they outmaneuvered Haman, or were lucky or divinely guarded, or all of the above. But there’s something unsettling about ending up on top with a man who cycles through his inner circle faster than kings on Game of Thrones.

Welp, Chag Sameach. Maybe next year try making up a new sound effect for Achashverosh’s name during the Megillah reading. I’m thinking of yelling, “DOWN WITH THE PATRIARCHY!”

Image credit: Aert de Gelder, The Banquet of Ahasuerus, via Wikipedia.

The post Achashverosh, AKA the Patriarchy, is the Real Villain of Purim appeared first on Jewcy.

Costumes! Color! Food! Bonfires! Storytelling! Water Fights! 2016 is the best year ever because of the exact intersection of Purim and Holi.

Two groups of victims of the American myth of the “model minority,” Jews and South Asians, both get to let loose on festivals that are, well, festive. This year, both celebrations begin tonight, with the Purim Megillah reading, and with Holika Dahan, a bonfire the night before Holi proper.

Holi is an originally Hindu celebration celebrated by diverse groups in India and Nepal, as well as expatriate communities. While it’s diverse in observance worldwide, its origins involve celebrating the harvest, worship of Krishna, and a story about a demon named Holika who dies to save her nephew, symbolizing the victory of good over evil.

Holi celebrations are perhaps most famous outside of Asia as a “color carnival.” Celebrants throw color dyes as powder, and then use water guns and balloons to activate the dyes.

While it’s often a forced exercise to compare two completely different religious traditions, Holi and Purim both are absolutely joyous, even as holidays go (and in some places, Holi is also a holiday of love). Sure, Holi and Purim both involve music and delicious treats (like the best holidays), but what’s more, they both involve upsetting social order in the name of, simply, fun!

Purim is a chance for Jews to leave their expected roles behind. Orthodox men, for example, may cross-dress, and the status quo is, if briefly, in disarray. In Holi, everyone is equally invited to celebrate, or become a target in a water fight, regardless of age, class, gender, caste, you name it.

(Another commonality is intoxication; Purim is an alcohol-imbued holiday, and Holi is often celebrated with bhang, an edible cannabis.)

So happy Purim if you’re Jewish, Holi if you’re Indian, and both if you’re both!

If you’re not Jewish, Indian, and/or Nepalese, don’t feel left out. March 24th is National Chocolate-Covered Raisin Day.

Image credit: Steven Gerner via flickr.

The post Holi and Purim Collide! appeared first on Jewcy.