That Time Of Year

Its not like I dont like Diwali. I like looking drop-dead handsome in where-did-you-get-that-its-looks-so-awesome clothing. I like walking out on the streets, and seeing so many other people around. Everyone laughs, everyone smiles, everyone is talking to everyone else. Every single one is happy for once. A festival leaves no place for sadness. As if by simple requirement, everyone tries to be happy. I also like watching the highly expensive rockets some people by. And I gasp just as much as everyone else, when it completes its mad dash for height, and explodes into a carnival of colour and light. I like to see people holding phuljharis and waving them about in childish glee. I like to do it myself. Its one thing you cannot do, while maintaining a sober face. You cant wave a phuljhari and still be an adult. There's always the tracing out of vivid patterns in the air, the inevitable light-sabre duels, or the aimless waving around in figure-of-eights. There is always the unabashed, unbridled expression of sheer joy as you follow the rapid waving of your hands, the fire-enhanced sparkle in your wide eyes, and we lose ourselves in a shortlived, sparkling candle of light.

Its just that I dont like the bombs. And they're whats most popular now. Its a festival of noise and sound and raucous cheering. It makes no sense to me, and my delicate senses. To a man of such refined tastes as I, it appears only a vulgar pursuit of god knows what. Lighting a little wrapped-up box, throwing it into the air and watch it explode. No lights, no panorama of colours, and no beauty to stare at. Just an explosion. And a loud noise.

So I spend most of my precious time in running about trying to dodge bombs thrown horizontally towards me by rascals and ragamuffins who like to see me jump. And I watch them from behind a post or a tree, and I tsk them. I tsk, and I wonder what has gotten into mankind. And a few of the womankind. *sigh*

Lets look at the positive side. The other guys are lost in their mad scramble and make-believe wars with bombs and explosives. That leaves most of the girls free for screaming and yelping at sudden noises all night. I smoothly slide into the picture, and sweep them off with subtle charm and well-disguised innuendo. The evening pays off.

Happy Diwali!