The evening began with Deuta and I struggling to light candles and diyas in our tiny compound, finding the perfect spots to protect them from the wind. Maa was busy in the kitchen, making sweets and savories. Our house was bathing in the fragrance of agarbattis. Pablo was running from here to there, restlessly eager to burst the crackers that Deuta had neatly arranged on a table. Friends started pouring in slowly, irrespective of caste, creed, region and religion, to celebrate with us. And like every year, we inaugurated with phuljharis. We used them to write our names in air and to light the other crackers. There were chakras (my favorite!) and anars, and if people were feeling adventurous, rockets and bombs. Maa's delicious goodies kept coming, and the merriment kept going even after the last cracker was lit.
No comments:
Post a Comment