Diwali Blues

It's that time of the year again...when I get lower than an earthworm's bellybutton. Characteristic of a seasonal phase, I feel lonely and depressed and wonder what I'm doing so far away from the people I love. 

When I walk these streets and stare at cold, sterile buildings each trying to outdo each other, I miss Diwali all the more. And home.

I can almost see my little town's every street, every home lined with warm, glowing diyas. I can see mom greeting everyone she meets, sweets being exchanged and me gingerly waiting for the next big 'bomb'. I can still feel the unconfined excitement of the neighbourhood gang waiting for dad to bring 'patakis'. I can smell the crisp aroma of 'thukudis' and the sweet sensations of 'ladus' in your mouth. Every association of Diwali is nostalgic and inviting and lends a strange, warm glow that fills the insides of your heart.

Everyone's home and yesterday's phone call drove me to tears. Most of all my brat-of-a-niece. As she animatedly (& secretly) told me her plans to plant 'maale pataki' behind her unsuspecting uncle (read my bro), I remembered my antics. And the time I burnt the sole of my feet :) Mom complained about how 'electric' diyas were replacing the traditional ones. And I saw her point. From my very early Diwalis, I used to stay on late into the night, making sure that each diya being blown by the wind was replenished with a fresh flame. An act that gave me immense peace. We used to sit up and watch out for the last dying firecracker, leaving it's whimsical trail behind...signaling the end of another Diwali night.

I try at my end here to light a little diya in my home, but it's just not the same. Without the intangible warmth of family and friends to make it glow brighter, it seems incomplete and listless. 

A cynical old friend calls it my 'delusion' - typical of Indians living abroad who think it's romantic to sigh about India and home. Maybe it is, I don't really know...but as long as I still pine to be 'home' for Diwali (or otherwise!), I would like to remain in this perpetual 'state of delusion' :)

To all you guys out there, wish you a sparkly, bright and beautiful Diwali...with or without your loved ones.

How can a grown man cry?

Realizations sting the eye

Like a million pins

On a display board.

And you blink it away

Blaming the dust.

 

How can a grown man cry?

 

Your earth lies shattered

Beneath your feet

And you walk the shifting sands of time

Afraid of falling through

With every step.

 

How can a grown man show his fears?

 

Your heart has sunk to its darkest depths

And your soul tainted with grief.

You look in the mirror,

To meet the ghost of your dreams

And look away, lest he prods your heart.

 

How can a grown man look weak?

 

You smile and laugh

And say it’s all right.

Everything’s fine and never been better.

But it belies the pools gathering in your eyes.

 

And you blink it away

Blaming the dust.

 

How can a grown man cry?

The SRK routine

Some songs do it for you. The recent 'Khuda jaane...' from 'Bachna he haseeno' is one such number, methinks. Sure, it's no classic and months later I would have purged it out of my system. Really, it's not like one of those olden goldies that one can listen to anytime.

Right now, I'm in the mood for 'Khuda jaane'. It's expansive and makes you want to do the SRK routine. Let's try this together. At the count of 'Khuda jaaaaaaannnnneeee....', spread your arms, bend a little backwards, tilt a little to the side, head back and yenjoooooy (note: all this has to be done with split-second precision). The words, music swooshes over you much better that way. It would help if you had a designer sweater.

I do it all the time for appropriate numbers. No seriously, it feels soooo good. Stand in front of the mirror (or just about anywhere actually) for maximum impact. While in public though, watch out for passerby's who could be smacked in the face by your windmill-arms. Don't get too carried away in public or you could find yourself in a padded room.

So, swoosh, spread, pirouette...and fill your soul with feel-good numbers.