Brighter, Better, Bling-filled

It’s another Diwali, and they tell me it’s going to be better, brighter, and bangier than usual. Brand Bihar is probably all mixed up with the election fireworks, and as the khadi types tell me, the real celebrations will erupt after the 24th.

Nevertheless, my heart goes out to all the harried males who are hard-pressed to find the right amount of glitter, whether it’s to light up the eyes of their duly wedded spouses, or to ‘keep’ their fair ladies amusant if you get my drift.

Dhanteras is enough to drive the average person absolutely bonkers. It’s an excuse for a shopping and splurging spree that cuts across boundaries of caste, creed, sex, and political affiliation. The hapless hubby next door knows that all he can do is bite the bullet as the bibi and the brats merrily blast a crater through his bonus and next month’s paycheck.

“What gets my goat is the @#$%@@# traffic!,” fumes my friend- with- the- luxury Fiat, (FWLF], “as he throws up his hands while rickshaws shrill, autos rev, SUVs honk, holy cows park themselves on the divider and chew the cud, and the policeman at the Mandir crossing does a Bihari-style salsa. Everyone’s out to shop and drop, and in the new look Bihar, with so many glitzy shopping destinations, they’ve forgotten about wide roads and parking spaces.

Sidewalks, or pavements – those that have not yet become open air loos for incontinent and inconsiderate Bihari boys of all ages – have no space to walk on, because they’re now vending stations for fancy terracotta lamps, ritual squares of shiny fabric, idols, and what-not. “That’s the fun of Diwali shopping,” screams a not-so middle-aged Mama over the din, as she swats an errant cyclist over the ear with her shopping bag.

“Dhanteras is great”, mumbles a sweaty cycle-cart puller, struggling through the traffic, loaded with a fridge, a washing machine, and the brat from paragraph three above, whose just keeping an eye on things. “I manage to charge thrice the fare, and that helps me through the long winter of no-more-goods to ferry.”

Diwali comes once a year, so it’s time to celebrate, says a quiet man in the corner. Amidst all the fireworks, and shiny new cars and bikes, the clothes, and food and the bling, do spare a passing thought for those whose lamps will not be lit this season; those whose huts are cold and plates empty; those who have lost their jobs and are struggling to survive with dignity. We all know someone just like that, someone who could do with a little shine to this Dhanteras.

Let’s go. Let’s reach out. Let’s light up, not just a lamp, but a life.

May you bask in the glow of a good deed done this Diwali.