A Festival of Lights Indeed

A Festival of Lights indeed

Standing in the dim porch on a festive dusk, chatting away and wishing all my friends on the occasion, I waited. It was a long drive across the city, dotted with explosions and a bright display of the might of fire. Standing in that porch, memories were streaming through me, like the clouds in a hill station, but only this time, these were warm memories. The last time I was there, it changed my life. There was so much energy there. I can still feel them. Everybody was excited, the festival was such. It was a pretty dark evening, and the porch was lit only by a handful of small lamps. But no amount of darkness could subdue the spirit on that day, it was a great day, a day of celebration. Everybody had the right to celebrate that day, and we were there to make sure just that.

As I stood there reflecting upon my past, the silence in my mind was shattered by the chorus of countless little voices. Their prayers rained upon us like a torrent from up above. It flooded the porch to exact for itself, a few moments of silence. Silence that made us think, of our purpose, of reality, of reason, and of the moment. A few moments after the prayer took up silence, it was time. I was standing there absorbing every single moment of it. After they finally reached downstairs to the gates, they poured into the porch and filled among us. For a moment, a hazy picture of a river gushing past tranquil rocks along its course emerged in my mind’s eye.

Through the torrent, a small hand landed in my palm, for me to gently hold. And as I did, memories coursed through me like electricity. I was taken back in time, to my previous visit to the place, to the bright evening, to the lovely energetic bounding souls that quenched my eyes. I was hauled back to reality by the gentle tugs of a little boy, whose voice reached me from in the darkness. It was time, time to sate the festival’s due. We grabbed a few fireworks to light them up, to bring light upon the dark porch. The next hour flew past like the images through a train window, dotted with bright bursts of fire and color, and equally bright faces of content and innocent awe.

The pace of the evening was now slowly taking a retreat. With the fireworks exhausted, the innocent but convincing little lamps made their presence felt. They were seen floating around in the porch in little and cautious hands, spreading light and spirit. Friends were bidding adieu, and others were catching up on each other’s lives. A corner of my eye caught a little girl being lovingly hugged and swung around. Moments later, the porch looked like the way it was before the festivities, the little ones had made their way back in. It was a moment of reflection for me. The events of the day were so profound. A lasting image had been etched into my heart. The porch was the same old porch, and we were standing in the same fashion as we were a couple of hours earlier. It was later in the night, but then, strangely, the porch was not as dark any more. It was amazing how much difference in perception the mind can have. It was as if little orbs of light and energy had blown away all the darkness from the porch, and even after they were gone, their radiance had left a lasting light in my mind.

The festival of lights has come and gone, but the spirit still remains….