This week's Fiction Writers Group flash fiction prompt is on pixabay at https://pixabay.com/photos/concert-confetti-party-event-club-2527495/
My entry this week is called Holi.
Holi
Holi—the spring festival of colorful rebirth packed the usually-crowded city to bursting. Revelers cavorted about tossing colored powders high into the air merely dressing up the normally filthy streets. But, it was the other, little-known aspect of this day that made it the girl’s favorite. On this one day out of the year, all distinctions of caste, gender, and age were relaxed.
Kicking off her cheap sandals, the girl washed her feet before entering the Kolkata Museum for just the fourth time in her fourteen years. The curator met her with a smile instead of the scowl he had greeted her with three years before.
"Hello, again, Miss. My how you have grown in the last year."
She clasped her hands and bowed. "Hello, Sir. You look younger each year." She always made it a point to show that caste did not dictate class.
The curator smiled at her compliment. "What can I show you today?"
The girl smiled back. "I would like to see the Archaeology Gallery, please."
With a nod and a knowing smile, the curator turned on his heel and strode across the lobby. “Why do you like that gallery so much? The statuary is primitive at best.” After a pause he continued, “India has progressed through many stages in its development.” He opened the large bronze doors. “We have come so far since the days when these grotesque pieces of ‘art’ were carved.”
The girl turned to the curator, her voice calm but forceful. “Oh, yes, we’ve come from a time when we all worked together and shared what we needed to survive, to today when the majority of us are only allowed to see this true art but once a year.”
The curator hung his head. “Perhaps we have more progress to make.”
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