Holi Goes Commercial: Big Cities Embrace Tier 3 Culture in Festival Makeover

Holi, once an unfiltered expression of community joy and seasonal transition, has evolved into a curated spectacle in India's metros and Tier 1 and 2 cities. Once characterised by unpretentious neighbourhood gatherings, local beats, and organic revelry, Holi today is increasingly shaped by commercialisation. What was once a festival of simple gulaal, folk songs, and home-cooked treats has, in urban spaces, become an event packaged with DJs, corporate sponsorships, expensive tickets, and influencer-led promotions.

But within this transformation, a curious cultural exchange is taking place: while big-city Holi has been co-opted by market forces, it simultaneously borrows heavily from Tier 3 cultural aesthetics—repackaging local, often rural, traditions into premium, curated experiences for urban audiences.

The Commercialization of Urban Holi: How the Festival Became a Business

The essence of Holi has always been inclusivity—breaking social barriers, dissolving hierarchies, and celebrating in open spaces. But in cities like Delhi, Mumbai, and Bangalore, the festival has become an enterprise. Commercial Holi parties, sponsored by liquor brands and music labels, now dominate the landscape. These events, often hosted at high-end resorts, stadiums, or club venues, feature celebrity performances, EDM-infused Bollywood mixes, and even "premium" organic colours priced exorbitantly.

Event management companies and influencers are at the forefront of this transition. With tickets priced anywhere from Rs. 2,000 to Rs. 10,000, these parties create an exclusive atmosphere where Holi is not just about playing with colours but about an experience that blends music festivals, curated fashion, and high-end food and beverage options. Even traditional bhang, a government-regulated Holi staple, has found its way into fancy "Holi cocktails" at bars and five-star brunches.

"I remember Holi as a festival where everyone played on the streets together, but now, it feels like an exclusive club event," says Uttanshi Agarwal, a research manager from Bangalore. "You either pay for a ticketed event, or you celebrate at home—there's no middle ground anymore."

This commodification often distances the festival from its original ethos. Where Holi was once celebrated in close-knit mohallas with neighbours and relatives, urban celebrations are now curated for the Instagram era, with attendees more focused on getting the right content than on the spirit of the festival itself.

How Tier 3 Culture Is Being Repurposed for Urban Holi

What is particularly striking in this commercial Holi landscape is how urban India is repackaging and marketing the cultural elements of Tier 3 towns and rural areas to elevate the festival's appeal. The very elements that were once considered too 'desi' or 'rustic' are now being sold as premium experiences in city events. This includes everything from the resurgence of regional Holi folk music to the presence of street-style food stalls curated to reflect the experience of small-town Holi.

For example, 'Phoolon ki Holi'—the tradition of playing Holi with flowers, historically linked to Braj in Uttar Pradesh—has now become a premium attraction at urban events. In cities, organisers tout 'eco-friendly' flower Holi experiences at luxury farmhouses, charging high entry fees for an experience that originated in small temple towns centuries ago.

Similarly, desi-style dhol beats, once an intrinsic part of rural Holi celebrations, are now packaged alongside big-ticket Bollywood and electronic DJ sets. In a bid to create an "authentic" experience, many of these events bring in folk performers, often underpaid compared to their more urban counterparts. The same holds true for traditional Holi foods like thandai, gujiya, and pakoras, which have been turned into 'artisanal' versions at high-end eateries catering to urban elites.

"I've performed at Holi events in Banaras for years, but when I was invited to a Delhi event, I realised I was being paid a fraction of what the DJ was getting," says Ravi Shukla, a Rajasthani folk singer who performs around Delhi. "They love our music, but they don't value our contribution the same way."

How Tier 3 Cities Experience Holi Today

While metros absorb and commercialise cultural elements from smaller cities, the Holi celebrations in Tier 3 towns continue to hold onto their raw, unfiltered essence. In towns like Mathura, Vrindavan, and Banaras, Holi remains a deeply communal and organic affair. The streets turn into a riot of colours where caste, class, and social divisions blur, even if temporarily.

Here, Holi is not just an event but a lived experience spanning days, often dictated by mythological and historical traditions. Unlike urban celebrations that now hinge on private venues, Tier 3 Holi remains centred around temples, ghats, and public squares, where participation is spontaneous rather than transactional. The music, too, remains unfiltered, with traditional Holi folk songs like 'Rang Barse' and 'Are Ja Re Hat Natkhat' taking precedence over remixed dance numbers.

Yet, Tier 3 cities are not entirely immune to commercialisation either. In tourist hotspots, local businesses have begun catering to the influx of travellers looking for 'authentic' Holi experiences. Many temple towns now see a surge of domestic and international tourists, with travel agencies selling curated Holi 'experiences'—sometimes to the dismay of locals who feel their festival is being commodified for outsiders.

"We welcome tourists, but sometimes it feels like Holi here is no longer for us—it's a performance for visitors," says Ramnik Yadav, a resident of Vrindavan. "It's still beautiful, but it's different from what we grew up with."

The Double-Edged Sword of Cultural Exchange

At its core, the transformation of Holi celebrations in metros and Tier 1 and 2 cities reflects a broader pattern in India's urbanisation and commercialisation of culture. On one hand, it keeps traditions alive in new contexts. The incorporation of folk music, rural food traditions, and temple-town aesthetics into urban celebrations is, in some ways, a testament to the continued relevance of small-town culture in a rapidly globalising India.

However, the nature of this exchange is often exploitative. While cities borrow freely from Tier 3 culture, the credit or economic benefits seldom reach those whose traditions are being repurposed. Folk performers, for instance, may be invited to play at urban Holi events but are often not compensated fairly compared to mainstream DJs and Bollywood acts. Likewise, rural artisans who create traditional Holi paraphernalia—handmade pichkaris, natural colours, or festive sweets—are often bypassed in favour of mass-produced, corporatised versions of the same.

Can Urban Holi Retain Its True Spirit?

Like any cultural celebration, Holi will continue to evolve, shaped by market forces, urbanisation, and changing social dynamics. The festival's growing commercialisation in metros and Tier 1 and 2 cities is both a marker of cultural adaptation and a reflection of modern consumerism. However, as Holi becomes a curated event rather than a spontaneous celebration, the question remains: How much of its original spirit can remain intact?

As we throw colours in the air, dance to dhol beats, and sip our thandai, it is worth asking whether we are celebrating Holi or simply consuming it.