As a kid, Holi was always my favourite festival. I remember waking up excited, stepping out with colours in hand, running around with friends, not worrying about anything except who to drench next. It was chaotic, messy, and somehow, the happiest day of the year.
But somewhere along the way, that feeling faded.
Friends moved to different cities, plans became harder to make, and slowly Holi turned into something I started avoiding. It didn’t feel the same anymore. At times, it didn’t even feel safe. What was once carefree became something you had to think twice about.
And then, over the last few years, I kept coming across videos of Holi in Sangla. Women dancing freely, locals celebrating together, people completely immersed in the moment — and the mountains quietly standing in the background. It looked different. It felt different. And I knew I wanted to experience it someday.
In 2026, I finally did.
And honestly, this wasn’t just another Holi. It was, without doubt, the best Holi I’ve ever experienced. It even beat my childhood memories — something I didn’t think was possible.
Before I go further, a quick heads up — this is going to be a slightly long read because I’m sharing my full experience along with some useful information. Feel free to skim through or jump to the parts that interest you.
Getting there: The journey to Sangla
Reaching Sangla is an experience in itself. I drove up from Delhi, and it took me close to 14 hours with breaks in between. The journey starts off like any highway drive, but as you move past Shimla and enter Kinnaur, the landscape begins to change dramatically. The roads wind through mountains, rivers appear alongside you, and slowly, you realise you’re heading somewhere special.
If you’re not planning to drive, there are other ways to get there. Buses run from Delhi and Chandigarh towards Reckong Peo or Sangla, though they might involve a change along the way. Another option is to fly into Shimla or Chandigarh and then take a taxi or bus onward.
One thing worth mentioning, though — the last stretch of about 20 kilometres before Sangla is quite rough. The roads get narrow, uneven, and in certain patches, a bit tricky. If you’re driving, it’s best to avoid this route in rainy or snowy conditions unless you’re very comfortable with mountain driving. It’s manageable, but it does demand caution.
Staying in Sangla: simple, warm, real
Sangla isn’t a luxury destination, and that’s exactly its charm.
There are several homestays available, many of which you can book online. There’s also a Zostel for those who prefer a more backpacker-style stay. But during Holi, something special happens — locals open up their own homes to visitors. You’ll often find families offering a room or two at very minimal prices, just to accommodate the growing number of people coming in.
Of course, with that comes a certain level of simplicity. You won’t find luxury amenities here. Meals are home-cooked, warm, and comforting. Because of the cold, water pipes can freeze, so some places may not have running water all the time. Geysers, flush systems — these things can be unpredictable.
And yet, none of it feels like an inconvenience. If anything, it makes the experience feel more real, more grounded.
Holi in Sangla: More than just a festival
Holi in Sangla is not a one-day affair. It unfolds slowly over four days, followed by the Faag Mela that marks the arrival of spring. Even the dates don’t necessarily match the plains. This year, while most places celebrated Holi on the 4th of March, Sangla began its celebrations from the 1st to the 3rd.
But what truly sets it apart is not just the duration — it’s the way the entire village becomes a part of it. This isn’t a festival you attend. It’s something you become a part of.
Day 1: A gentle beginning
The first day felt almost intimate.
Most of the celebrations were centred around the Bering Nag Temple, and there was a noticeable calmness in the air. Fewer crowds, more space to observe, and a chance to truly take things in.
Inside the temple compound, children ran around freely, playfully applying colours on anyone they came across. There was no hesitation, no awkwardness — just pure, innocent joy. Within minutes, you weren’t an outsider anymore. You were simply part of the celebration.
As the day progressed, the procession began to form in the village. Slowly, it made its way through narrow lanes, carrying with it characters like Baba, Raja, and Naari — each representing different aspects of life, from wisdom and strength to joy and balance.
What made this truly special were the pauses.
At each stop, the procession would enter a local home or courtyard. Rituals would be performed, prayers offered, and then, almost instinctively, the atmosphere would shift into celebration. Aunties would begin singing traditional Holi songs, forming small circles, moving in rhythm. There was something incredibly comforting about watching them — unhurried, joyful, completely present.
And then came the food.
Plates of potlu, fruits, and sometimes even local drinks would be passed around generously. No one was counting. No one was holding back. You were simply welcomed.
This continued across a few homes before the procession finally made its way back to the temple.
By the end of the day, it wasn’t just the rituals or the colours that stayed with me — it was the feeling of being included in something so deeply rooted in community.
Day 2: The energy builds
If Day 1 was gentle, Day 2 came alive with energy.
The temple compound was more crowded, the music louder, the dancing more infectious. For hours, people moved between Himachali folk songs and Bollywood tracks, laughing, dancing, completely lost in the moment.
This was also the day when Hanuman ji became part of the procession, adding another layer of symbolism and storytelling to the celebration.
And then began the long walk.
The procession this time stretched across nearly 9 kilometres, moving along the Baspa river, through forest patches, and across different parts of the village. The scenery was nothing short of magical. Snow-capped peaks in the distance, the sound of the river flowing alongside, and in between, a trail of people walking, singing, dancing.
At multiple points, the procession would pause, and once again, the now-familiar rhythm of rituals, food, laughter, and music would take over.
It didn’t feel like time was passing. It felt like you were moving through moments.
Day 3: At its peak
By the third day, Sangla was buzzing.
The temple compound was packed. Music echoed through the valley, colours filled the air, and there was a constant hum of excitement.
There was a slight delay in the start, possibly due to the presence of a chief guest, but no one seemed to mind. People danced, chatted, played Holi — the celebration had already begun.
When the characters finally entered, along with Hanuman ji and the introduction of Holika, the energy shifted again. The full act was performed, drawing everyone into the story.
Soon after, the procession moved through the market area, and that’s when it truly felt like the entire village had come out onto the streets.
Everywhere you looked, there were people — locals and travellers alike — dancing, singing, shouting “Holi hai” at the top of their lungs, walking together as if they had known each other forever.
Food and drinks continued to flow freely. Laughter was constant. And somehow, amidst all this chaos, everything still felt safe, respectful, and full of warmth.
By afternoon, things slowed down.
As evening approached, we returned to the temple for Holika Dahan. The rituals began after sunset. And as the fire was lit, with chants of “Har Har Mahadev” and “Jai Shri Ram” echoing through the mountains, there was a moment of stillness.
A moment that felt both powerful and peaceful.
Day 4: The quiet after
The fourth day, the Faag Mela, brought a completely different mood.
No colours, no chaos — just calm celebration.
People arrived dressed in their traditional Kinnauri attire, and it was honestly one of the most beautiful sights to witness. The temple once again became the centre of everything, but this time, the focus shifted to rituals and cultural expression.
As the evening set in, people gathered in a large circle. Men leading, women following, all dressed in traditional attire, moving together in slow, rhythmic steps, singing local songs.
This went on for hours.
There was no rush, no loud music, no distractions. Just people, tradition, and a sense of togetherness that is hard to describe unless you’ve experienced it.
By the end of the night, as the final rituals were performed and the deities were placed back inside the temple, it felt like the celebration had come full circle.
Why Sangla holi experience stays with you
This wasn’t just about the festival.
Yes, Sangla holi was beautiful. The rituals were unique. The setting was surreal.
But what truly made this experience unforgettable were the people.
The way locals welcomed you into their homes, shared their food, included you in their traditions — it never once felt like you were an outsider.
Sangla is a small village. It’s not built for large crowds. And yet, you won’t hear complaints. Instead, you’ll hear invitations.
“Next year bhi aana.”
And that, more than anything else, is what makes Sangla Holi so special.
A small note before you go
If you do plan to visit, go with respect.
Respect the people, their homes, their traditions. Don’t litter. Be mindful of the space you’re entering.
Because this isn’t just a festival you’re attending.
It’s someone’s home you’re being welcomed into.
And if you ask me —
this is one experience I know I’ll go back to, someday.
