Tuesday, November 01, 2005


This morning I woke up to the sounds of Diwali - crackers and rockets and phuljhadi's and what not. I was morose at having been woken up at 6:15 AM, having just shut off the alarm at 6:00 and then the snooze at 6:10. And so I began the day cursing Diwali for disturbing my much loved and always-been-there-for-me companion - sleep.

Later in the evening, when the festive mood was just setting in with renewed vigour, I wondered why people made all this fuss about Diwali - all the shopping and 'feeling good' and all the crackers, gifts, new clothes and all that goes with the season of Diwali. I mean yeah, I realized that that was the same thing that I myself did as a young punk, but reflecting on it now, it confounded me why people are so happy in these 4 days, just 4 regular days of the year. There are the earned holidays to consider, of course, but even apart from that, there seems to be a excitement and enthusiasm about Diwali that seemed to me, unexplicable. Do not mistake me, I'm not a pessimist, a 'what-good-will-that-do' person. It just made me think, having being given the faculty to do so and having had nothing better to do.

Then just as the noise level rose to a tumultous cacophony of sounds, as I stood there staring out onto the horizon, soaked with the smoke from crackers and 'atom-bombs', not a single silent second reaching my ears, I kept seeing the rockets explode in front of me in various hues and sounds. And slowly, unbeknownst to me, my face was lit by a small smile, not entirely different from the smile which dons childrens' faces on being given a chocolate. I kept watching, eager to see more explosions, more lights, true to the spirit of Diwali.
And so I stood there, watching, for ten, fifteen, twenty minutes, until I realized I had become the same person whom I couldn't understand in the morning - one who is excited and 'felt good' about a festival. I guess it is in the atmosphere - you can't keep it away for long, the spirit of enjoyment.

And, of course, I lurve the smell of cracker-smoke. And that of petrol and a just-struck matchstick, but I digress.


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