Skip to main content

A Tale to tell This Diwali

   

   A moonless night it was, although one could hardly sense the lunar absence. All around shimmered lights of different colours. Now and then, the sky erupted with bursts of various hues. Also, the night was noisy. Sudden blasts of sound, a boom here and a boom there echoed the surroundings. Each boom accompanied a puff of smoke which rose higher and higher and then melted into nothingness. For night gazers across the country, apparently, the night sky was overwhelmingly full of meteor showers; some of these just raced across the sky and exploded while the others broke into streaks of light that pattered the sky and faded away. These, however, differed from the usual ones in one regard; these meteors originated from the ground, not the sky. And not so surprisingly, a few gave away miniature parachutes after exploding.

   The night lengthened. The lady was on a tight schedule; visiting millions of houses across the country in a single night was a big deal for one person, no matter how divine one was. And having a giant barn owl as her mode of transportation wasn’t helping matters, either. There were other options available. Humans had created so much. But, Aeroplanes and other transports scared the hell out of her; they meant great progress to the humans, but to her all those were handicrafts of some insensible children. Well, the humans were her children, indeed; insensible ‘coz they considered themselves masters of this world. The owl was preferable to her. The comfort of the feather-back was incomparable. After spending an eternity with her, the owl seemed to understand her very well. A gentle petting on his neck and he could comprehend where she wished to go. In return of his service the goddess had blessed him with immortality. He could change his size as per requirement and in the night he could see better than the day.

   Like every humanly mother, she too, as a parent, was milder compared to her husband who had all the potential to become a destroyer after bearing with all the nuisances of the humans. It was only her love and affection for her children that kept her husband at bay. Her siding with the humans always brought a note of discord with her husband. Tonight was one such prospect. Tonight, like every other year, the humans were expecting her. So, she rushed into the night. There, the owl was waiting for her, as always.

   The owl now started descending. The lady was mesmerized by looking all round her. Every building in the area was beautifully decorated and illuminated with earthen-lamps, candles and electric bulbs. The shops in the streets sold all kinds of sweets and crackers. People dressed in new clothes exchanged greetings with each other. She could hear a thousand prayers which were offered to her along with ringing of bells and people’s laughter. The entire area was lit with joy.

   The owl landed in a small neighbourhood. No sooner had she dismounted the owl than a rocket flew at her. She ducked. The rocket missed her but knocked off her crown. She sighed in relief. Up until now, she was totally enjoying the night. But she was totally taken aback by this sudden attack on her. Collecting herself, she moved on. The owl, now diminished in size, flew into the night. The humans were, of course, oblivious of her divine presence, like every other time. She passed by sweet-shops walking through the streets inhaling the sweet scent that filled the air. She went into houses accepted the prayers offered to her and blessed the inmates in return. In the streets, she passed by a huddle of children jumping over a lighted ground-spinner. She maintained her distance. Next, the children lit up a flower pot. She was so engrossed in watching it that she didn’t notice a small round cracker rolling and coming to a stop just where she was standing. With a loud boom the cracker exploded. She was too late to cover her ears. The sound it produced almost deafened her. And then she was engulfed by a huge cloud of smoke. Coughing and covering her ears, she was totally dishevelled now. Her temper ran high. But she was a forgiving mother, she reminded herself. So, she tried her best to regain her composure. She started walking towards the next unvisited house. That is when she unmindfully walked into a thread of ladi which had just gone off. She was drowned in a continuous rhythm of pat-pat-pat-patak. It did stop eventually, but by then she had had enough. She summoned her owl. He appeared now enlarged in size. Then she, straddled on her owl, flew into the night.

   She was seething with anger. But even at that moment she knew that she will forgive them - the humans, her children, eventually. The Goddess of Wealth may not, but the mother in her certainly will. She always did. Though, she always wished that her children would go back to realising why they started celebrating the festival in the first place. The festival celebrates the victory of good over evil. Instead, everyone is so busy playing with crackers and fireworks that the important message this festival brings has reduced to mere text. She wonders why people go on polluting the environment on this day, the very thing that contradicts the message this auspicious festival brings with itself: Cleanliness is next to Godliness.


    She is sad and hopeful at the same time: sad 'coz of the way things are and hopeful that things will improve. She’ll return the coming Diwali hoping that the humans would have changed, for the better. 

                           -THE END-

   
   One message: Go green, this Diwali!!

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

LIFE AND LIES #77 | The English Teacher

When we are young, the world is full of possibilities. We can do anything, and become anything. We antagonise anyone who even hints at thinking otherwise about us. It's probably why most of us have a story to tell where the villain was a school teacher. Even I do. I don’t remember exactly how I ended up in the Headmaster’s cabin that day. All I remember is that back then I blamed my House Master for it. It wasn’t just me who had bunked the STD XII Pre-Board exams. There were many. But he made a scapegoat out of me. And the moment, I set foot inside the cabin, I received a big slap from the Headmaster. My ears rang. But that wasn’t the worst thing that happened that day. The Headmaster instructed him to call my father. Tell him to come or his son would be rusticated. I wasn’t a notorious student. I was good in my studies and had no disciplinary complaints against me. Had this incident not occurred, I would have completed my schooling in a few months with a clean record. My fat...

Whispers and Words #1

*** Finding solace In an air-conditioned space, The city slept While I wandered the streets, Restless, Perfecting the ending Of a sentence. The cool breeze made me forget That it was a summer night. Then, out of nowhere, A cold whisper Sent a shiver down my spine. "You have to choose, my friend. Be a writer or be content." "Why can't I be both?" I asked the emptiness. And the whisper scoffed at me, "You and your consistent pursuit To get the best of both worlds. Buckle up then! You are about to be tested." I stumbled over a rock And found the ending I was looking for. "If a river wants to meet the sea, Twisting and turning, It will somehow find its way Even through the mountains." If a whisper could smile, It did, and said, "We will see." *** I don't have a million readers - not by choice, obviously - just a handful. But they mean to me as much as the millions would do. And one of those readers reminded me that I had taken a lon...

LIFE AND LIES #57 | Neil Nitin Mukesh (#2)

"Krishna is a married man but he's always revered along with Radha, his lover. What if... say Rukmani, said to Krishna one day, that she'd rather be Radha?"  Nitin uttered his thought out loud then looked around the room. While the others had stopped long back, Neil was pouring himself another drink. Only he could drink so much on a Sunday night, because unlike the others, his Monday had been declared a Bank holiday. It was Mukesh who was sober enough to reply to his question. "Radha spent her years in sadness longing for Krishna. Rukmani would not want to be in her place." "What if...'' smiled Nitin. He always placed the actual question he wanted to ask as the second question. "One day, after reading my work, my wife says to me that she'd rather be one of the women I write about so passionately." "The women you choose to write about are also inherently sad," Mukesh was quick with a reply. "Ask your wife then, would ...