Its Diwali/Deepavali time. I want to share some sweet memories of these festivities in my childhood.
Without fail, we used to celebrate all the festivals in our village with loads of our cousins. It used to be huge, for us. We used to bother our grand-pa/uncles/aunts for 1 or 2 rupees (yes, money was very valuable then) and run to the cracker shops to buy crackers. Absolute joy.
On the evening of the festival, the villagers used to make a huge fire on a ground and bring their decorated oxen (mostly with marigold flowers, balloons on horns, bells on foot and neck etc..) to cross the fire. There used to a hidden competition as to whose oxen looks the best. It was much fun. Sometimes we used to lit the crackers right below an ox and watch it jumping wild. Sadists we were :)
The best part used to be the day after the festival. All the crackers we had bought would have been over by that time and nobody would give any money again. We would walk into the streets early in the morning and see if we could find any unlit crackers on the ground - those crackers which just refused to go off. There were precious because they were free :) We used to have lot of fun again.
Suddenly, festivals have no meaning for me.
I was watching the movie 'Yes Man' yesterday and one line from Allison got me thinking for sometime:
'The world is a playground. Somehow we forget to play as we grow up'.
So true, so bad.