light, light, more light!

For a philanthropist the biggest festival, is undisputedly life. But in the beautiful country of India, where I live, a certain festival is larger than life.
Out of the conglomeration of a multitude of festivals that are attributed to the Indian soil, Diwali stands out for the shear amount of grandeur attached to it.
Diwali or Deepavali has never been a personal favorite (it's Holi :) ) but I can't deny the fact that when it comes to vastness and magnitude of festivity Diwali wins hands down. Mainly because this unlike many other magnificent festivals is not region specific. For example, the joy of kite flying festival is restricted to a few western states, I'm still oblivious to most of the South Indian fiestas, or even North, East and West for that matter. Yes, that's correct; not just religion specific, most of the Indian festivals are region specific. But not Diwali, for it is celebrated across the lenght and breadth of the country. It may vary in the way it is celebrated but not in the essence.

I was afraid of Diwali as a little girl. I was afraid of the firecrackers. The fear intensified when once a cracker rocket burnt a big hole in my petite new dress-that I was wearing! Thankfully the skin missed it by whiskers but the fear remained. I remember how I would lower the curtains, stuff my ears with cotton and skulk under the bed as the mean boys outside would burst cracker after cracker-the noisiest ones. For me it always meant, and will always mean, diyas, sweets and here comes my favorite part-rangoli!
The brilliant fusion of lights and colours. Both meant to enlighten our souls and brighten our lives. I still stay a hand's distance away from crackers. And thanks to the ecological concern, I can now refrain from setting money ablaze without inviting quzzical looks from the people who're on a temporary noise pollution rampage. Oh, but I make an exception for fuljadis :)

On the flip side, Diwali means my mother would go on a mad cleanliness spree to spruce up the house. And the first victim is-yes, obvioulsy my room! Bed and study table-I understand, but what's the point in doing up the cupboard! I rather like the mishmash in my closet. Whenever I open the cupboard, the clothes come rolling down as if to welcome me :D. It's fun that way. I always tell her this. "I'm going to mess it up again anyway, besides these are the home clothes!" These are the magic (funny, how it rhymes with tragic ;) ) words that start the play button- " You are not a child anymore, how many times do I have to tell you, what would you do in future when you're on your own, what would people think of you,all you do is sit in front the computer, you're not studying as well...blah blah blah". The rebuke would always include plenty of surprising/shocking citations. Only my mother can somehow correlate lazing around in the summer of '05 to the culprit cupboard in the autumn of '09!

Oh, I'm sooo in a mood to blog, but mother india needs my help in lighting the diyas. And I better go before not paying heed to her is correlated to getting up late in the mornings :D

PS: Happy Diwali, humans and non-humans :)
PPS: I luuuuuurve my rangoli :)