It was our first Diwali
away from home. The city had outdone itself as fairy lights hung from canopies
above streets, colourful lanterns shone bright against the night skies and
women in gorgeous hues blew conchs as others went around lighting candles and
bursting crackers. We sisters watched stunned as colourful fireworks burst
against the night sky and then faded away only to be outshone by brighter
fireworks. Yet it wasn't home.
(The lonely balcony )
‘Beautiful, isn't it?’
my elder sister asked.
‘Ofcourse, but
candles? Diyas are so much better. Remember how Papa would go shopping on
Diwali eve and buy hundreds of diyas?’ I replied.
‘And then on the day
of Diwali we would sit around all day shaping cotton threads and pouring oil
into the diyas. You know I hated going into the backyard alone. But Mom would
always assign me the task of decorating the backyard. It was creepy.’
‘Mom must be doing it
all alone this year’, I said quietly.
(Lanterns on the streets)
We both fell silent.
A thin spark of light shot up into the sky and burst into golden shimmer. Suddenly I
started missing home terribly - the excitement and anticipation, the
impatience, the coming together of the whole family to celebrate Diwali and
most importantly the traditions. We would sit beside Ma as she offered prayers
to Mother Lakhsmi and pay our tributes to the Goddess by lighting the first
cracker in front of the deity.
The shrill sound of
my sister’s ring tone filled my ears. ‘It’s Vishal! Let’s put him on speaker,’
said my sister excitedly.
‘Ahoy idiots! Have
you burst any crackers yet?’ came my brother’s voice over the phone.
‘Nah... Don’t feel
like,’ we chimed at the same time.
‘Great. Just hold on.
Ma is just about to finish the puja. Get your crackers ready. I’m getting mine
as well.’
( First Diwali away from home)
All of a sudden, the
distance no longer mattered. For one precious moment, we felt like we were
together, standing in front of the deity with our crackers, all excited like
four year-olds as we waited for Ma to finish the puja. And no sooner my brother
screamed “Happy Diwali” over the phone, our crackers burst forth into sparks and
we grinned like fools, elated as the sparks consumed the stick and fizzled away.
‘That was precious
Vishal, wasn't it?’ I asked.
‘It always is
sweetheart, it always is,' came Ma’s voice over the phone.
And as the city
shimmered with joy, we looked back at the sky, our hearts a little lighter, our
smiles a little brighter for we had found home for a few prized minutes. We
brought out the candles and fairy lights, decorating the lonely balcony and
calling out to neighbours as they hung lanterns, the balcony coming alive
beneath our hands as the fairy lights happily twinkled and the colourful candles
cheerfully dazzled, heralding the onset of Diwali.
