Its diwali. The festival of lights.
Every corner in India is lit up with millions of light. The smell of burnt paper and gun powder singes your insides and the sweet tooth is having a field day. It's smiles on so many faces. The weak candle flame dancing in the wind.Children screaming and laughing and shouting. Oh and how can I forget the firecrackers. Colorful sparklers, brilliant bright rockets, the super loud 'sutli bomb'. My dogs scared stiff from the loud bangs and adding to the noise pollution.
It's diwali. The phone never stops ringing. People all over call up to wish you a lovely year ahead. The SMS facility for all service providers work overtime.... Renewing bonds with long-lost friends and some that you don't care to speak to.It's truly a happy time and it is beautiful.
It's how it has been for as long as I can remember. It's probably how it is this year... at home. Here in the cold climes of the midlands of uk, the only lights I will see are the orange street lights when I walk to the library. The only sounds I shall hear is the hissing and spitting of the steam pipes in the university and the only sweets I'll taste are the marshmallows from the pound store.
“Memory is a way of holding on to the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose.”
Happy Diwali everyone...