Celebration

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 16; the sixteenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

One more Diwali this year.

I think, the craze diminishes with age, especially if you don’t have children to enjoy with, it is not like those Diwali days of yester years when we were kids.

This year it wore a subdued mood.

Best Diwali was celebrated during those days when mom was alive. It had a different meaning then. Mom would start cleaning the house fifteen days before the D-day, which would be followed by shopping for new clothes, then making sweets, distributing to family and friends and finally the prayers, with plenty of gifts exchanged, some of them recycled. There would be lots of crackers and fireworks, mud lamps were placed at every window sill in the house and balconies would be lit with colorful bulbs. We would have continuous stream of guests, and of course lots of phone calls from relatives who lived abroad.

But, after mom, nothing is same.

With 90% of my older relatives dead and gone, the few that are left, they live in their own world.

Cleaning is done by maids, sweets and savories purchased from the stores and shopping is just a norm. We are shopping all year round so this is just another day.

I walk downstairs to meet the kids in my building compound and they are bursting expensive rockets. ‘How much did you pay for this 30 seconds pleasure?” I ask their father as I see the rocket go up in the sky and burst into thousand spraklers "Don’t even mention, it burns our heart and our pocket” they say “We have paid through our nose” and their kids looked at them with crinkled nose trying to understand what we meant and I tell them “Beta, you don’t understand how difficult the times are now, wait for 20 years and you will understand”

The children continue to derive the pleasure of bursting more crackers, those bigger strings of 2000 noisy crackers and I pause for a longer time to complete my unfinished sentence.

I am proud of the blinking red-rose shaped bulbs, which runs parallel to string of colored bigger bulbs and then there is one more string of hundred tiny green bulbs running across my balcony grill in the zigzag fashion. I am elated each time I go to my balcony to admire them, and then suddenly...Oh No! It is raining heavily, wetting my extension cord. It never used to rain during Diwali . Global warming! Bah! It is darkness again.

I recieve many SMS's, people sending me the forwards with no originality or personal touch. I do the same. All my friends are on social media and they all wish me on Face-book. No postman arrives with a greeting card. (when they come for Diwali bakshis they have an embarrassed look) All of my NRI family is on a smart phone and they exchange virtual sweets, jokes and greetings, but nobody calls to wish…no warm voice I hear. Every body’ messages I read on line and smile…alone.

I am glad that I do have family and friends towards whom I can stretch and reach physically.

I eat, pray and love during Diwali for sometime with them, offline

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Wordless Wednesday - Traffic Jam

My entry for WW

Fast Women Fast

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Early morning, my fingers grope for BlackBerry, as I lay in bed.

I start my day with the messages that I might have missed while I was sleeping. After reading BB messages, I check my emails, then Facebook, Twitter, Internet explorer. By the time I am ready to get up from the bed, I am already enlightened by my friends’ state of mind and what are they thinking, with the world news, with all the latest jokes and the topic of discussions for a day.

Today, everybody is talking about ‘Karwa-Chaud’, a fast that women keep for health and prosperity of their husband. Abstainers are hoping that their spouse will outlive them.

Ah! I am glad that I am responsible only for my self.

So they fast, those women in red, with large round bindi on their forehead, dark green bangles jingled on their hands but, do their hubbies appreciate and treat them well?

Why do u starve, oh women folk? Know it not that it's an old story told? The health of men depends on his vice; your diet has no ropes on his life.

Starve if you must then it could be, to learn the hunger of a child on the street, whose parents brought him thoughtlessly to quench their greed shamelessly.

You could starve on the days when you have bigger waistline, it pains you to see your unhealthy lifeline, just for day you could stop those fatty canapés that you gorge greedily on a whipped cream.

But then, who am I to advocate? Huh?

All day long I see married women celebrating their fast together, visiting temples, listening to stories of woman achievers who have prospered in their love-life, many of them forgetting and forgiving the abuses that are hurled at them every hour of the day.

They all look so much in love.

In the evening, when I go for open-mike poetry performance at the Prithvi theatre, there are more love poems. Love is in the air. Am I missing something?

The woman recites, "I would like to wrap you all over me, feel your breath and touch your glow," and I am enthralled by her emotive desires. I am thinking “How do you feel when he comes home, swinging his butt, fully drunk, do you say "Duh!"

Late night, my friends and I walk on the beach. This is a Juhu Beach - one of the dirtiest beaches of Mumbai, a beach where one would not risk wetting a toe. The moon shines brightly reflecting its silver rays on the water. It’s a low tide. There is no wind. Everywhere, I see the cluster of women sitting in a group around the burning lamps and incense sticks, praying to the moon.

Having survived without food all day, they offer their prayers to the moon; the conclusion of Karva Chauth involves the offering of sanctified water (arghya) to the moon, as it represents Shiva and Parvati, there will be feast to celebrate with their spouse.

Their spouse will be treated like God today.

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The Book launch of ‘Women Changing India’

Unlike the other events that I have attended, this book launch was unique. Most of the book launches that I have attended are the type where the author, or his chief guest rip opens the book, few passages are read, then there are questions and answers session and finally to buy an autographed copy. Most of the time I pick the book that I don’t really need it but am obliged to buy, I may even add few words of encouragement to the author (if she/he is a friend) and then I am home, dump the book on the shelf of ‘To-be-read-when-I-find-time-or-interest-to-read’.

This was a launch of coffee-table book of photographs and essay by six authors and six photographers. This book attempts to map in words and pictures, some of the changes that are both visible and invisible in the India of today.

The event included exhibition of the blown-up photographs of the content in the book. We (my friend and I) walked around admiring the photographs by Raghu Rai, Martine Franck, Olivia Arthur, Alex Webb, Alessandra Sanguinetti and Patrick Zachmann. There were pictures of women who have made difference in people’s lives, their power radiating behind their teakwood desk. There were glimpse into the lives of women who have been the driving force in uplifting the Indian economy. There were pictures of women in Bollywood world, in corporate world, in banking, some across the villages doing the hard labour and some in taxi-business for women (training and driving school for women), security guards and others covering a broad spectrum of women across various field.

But, like I was saying that this book launch was totally different. There was only one book on display, not for sale, nor any author to autograph it. The weather was quite warm; I was feeling sorry for those foreigners and other corporate people who were dressed in three-piece suit, not really understanding our comfort in cotton clothes. (I was tempted to tell them, when in India , dress like Indians do..ah well) The inauguration was started by lighting of the lamp in the traditional Indian way, followed by speeches by the guests, during which the people in three-piece suits had walked outside for fresh air or to attend to more important phone-calls and had walked inside the Shamiana only after the speeches were done and it was time for yum…snacks and drinks.

This is the first book launch where I have been offered snacks like chicken tikka, fish cutlets, Paneer puffs, veg kababs, cakes, and wide range of drinks and cocktails! It was fun moving around, watching those pictures again and again and munching on those delicious snacks that made their rounds endlessly. When we had our fill, we walked into the auditorium that was playing the looped presentation of those photographs that were displayed outside in the lawns.

It was a lovely evening and I am told that this book will be available in market next month.

Thursday Challenge

Picture clicked in Darjeeling during my recent trip

Linking this photo to Thursday Challenge…

Golden is the sunlight reflected on its leaves as it smiles,

Searching for its direction,

Chasing the Sun.