Diwali stories

Happy Diwali, everyone. I am sure you are all having a wonderful, colorful and a thunderous diwali :).

I just woke up-had real great dreams about Diwali.....Oo wow, all the phooljharis, chakris and anaars. As I call home, I can hear the sound of fire-crackers in the backdrop. and friends are writing from home abot what they are going to do for diwali. am I jealous ;) . what do I do for Diwali? ha, ha-go to the lab :) and go out for lunch.....

This year my family welcomes two new members: my nephew (brother’s son) and my niece (sister’s daughter). Their parents are a bit worried that the diwali dhoom might upset the lil’ ones.

And I am thinking about how I spent my Diwali last year-it wasn’t anything great, especially with the happenings in New Delhi. and I felt disgusted with one remark from an Asian colleague “Oh, they had such trouble for a festival, innocent people targeted-why? India is not an important country”. and I went all GRRRRRRRRRRRR. well, umm, not that loudly and rudely. but I challenged her to explain what she meant!! I turned out that she meant politically neutral and with her English not helping her enough she uttered the unsavory!

But, there’s one Diwali that’s very close to my heart. Boston, circa 2003.....

its a Diwali weekend-am back home after finishing a bit work in the lab. as I sip on some masala chai, the door-bell rings. Hmm, she’s home-my house-mate Arshiya. She looks at me and greets “Happy Diwali ji”-and I greet her back with the same. as I serve her some chai she quips “where are the lights”. and that makes me think, hmm, yes, its Diwali today. But then, am I supposed to celebrate this year.....Mom has left us for the heavens this year.....i think. I am quiet. and Arshi asks me, “kahan kho gayin aap”-i remind her that Mom is here no more. She smiles and hugs me and echos what goes on in my minds just as she hugs me. and we understand that my being happy and enjoying is only going to make Mom happier. She would actually not like it, if her child isn’t happy. I look up and break into a tearful grin and I hear my sweetheart Mom say “Chal uth, aiwayein na ro-ja uth ke kuchh kar. Aapni saheli naal bahar jaake aa” (”get up, don’t cry like this-go, do something-go out with your friend”). Thanks sweetie, I chirp, as Arshi looks on if its for her. She knows the answer.....and goes to set up the X’mas lights on the windows.

Dressed up, Arshi and I go out. Its quite chilly and we decide to walk upto the Bombay Cinema for a Hindi movie from our apartment in Brookline. I am told that theater no longer screens Hindi movies. On the way, we stop at Kashmir, an Indian store and buy some diyas and sweets. We pick up a coffee from Dunkin’-Donuts and buy a cpl of samosas after we reach the theater and get the tickets. The tickets are for “Pinjar”, a movie based on Punjabi writer Amrita Pritam’s novel by the same name. We anticipate a great movie as we both are Punjabis.....from the two sides of border. We munch on samosas while watching this movie that revolves around the story of a girl Puro, set in the turbulent times of India’s Partition. We are both a tearful shadow of ourselves, crying in bucketloads.....the movie ends and we both come out with a heavy heart and begin walking home. But as we walk, we feel lighter.....we laugh at this situation-an Indian and Pakistani girl watching and crying through this movie together. its a hindi movie like situation, we joke :).

We reach home, its another round of chai, this time with aloo-paranthas. We light the diyas and then sit and chat and within five minutes we realize we need some therapy.....we break into tearful grins again and pick up the casette for Chalte-Chalte and enjoy our beloved SRK dancing to “Gumshuda.....”