postcard from j: happy diwali

It’s the remix age. The time for remakes to take centrestage. Can renaming be far behind then? What do I want renamed? DIWALI. Yes, you heard it right. The ‘festival of lights’ has long been dead. So, now I propose to rename it to ‘Awaazwali’ – the festival of noise. Maybe I could drum up support through an online petition. It seems like the in-thing to do anyway.


NOISE RULES. Period. My teenage neighbour lets arrogance get the better of him. Here I am, shouting from my third floor balcony at about 11:00 pm telling him to stop bursting those ear-splitting festival crackers. The only person going crackers is me and probably the 90-year old lady from the adjoining building. I have an article to write and my brain only works late at night, thanks to the few golden moments of silent bliss. My article is not even in outline form.

First and foremost, the boy and his co-conspirators have violated the deadline set for bursting crackers (and other assorted noise). In a circular of the housing society we live in, it is clearly mentioned that no crackers shall be burst between 10:00 pm and 6:00 am (I still find this timing absurd… Why do people get cheap thrills by bursting crackers post-6 am?). Second of all, he bursts those ‘bombs’ in the main compound instead of the enclosed garden area which has been explicitly stated in the same circular. Further to these obvious reasons of my being peeved, the boys have the audacity to leave the remnants of packaging strewn all over the place.

I shudder to think what would happen if my brother or I were ever inclined towards such callous behaviour. My mother would, in all likelihood, cane us to death or worse, tie us to one of those ‘ Diwali rockets’ and transport us to outer space.

Let’s stop and think of the consequences of our actions. Celebration of one’s happiness need not be at the expense of someone else’s discomfort or ill health.