For most of the people from the part of the country I come from, Diwali is just an occasion to burst crackers. It was not much different for me too. The very thought of Diwali was scary (!) for me. My poor lungs were too weak to bear the amount of pollution in the air, thanks to the tons of crackers burnt. As the days closed in to Diwali and people around start count down, I would be crippled by the images of me, sitting in a corner of my bed, struggling for breath. I have had sufficient reasons to hate the festival. Even then there were certain things I liked about the festival. I was scared of it but waited for it...waited eagerly to watch the lines of diays that maa (mamma) would put around the house, making it look like a heavenly abode...I longed for the day when there will be silence all around; I would sit on a chair and watch the flames dancing with air waves. Sight of diyas struggling to keep themselves alive when air movements became too ruthless evoked countless thoughts i...
Comments
Yes, there's always a "second chance"
Mind
That's something "not easily acceptable", my experience says "that's how it is"
I see beauty in that too.