Diwali Mumblings

The festival of light - i.e. Roshni, could easily be my festival technically...right? Fat chance. This Diwali I missed my family and childhood more than ever. And wasn't the big things but the smaller things that I missed. My Aunts homemade mithai, fighting in the office over who would do what, lighting diyas outside our home door, running around on D-Day figuring out where we needed to be in time for a pooja or for an office cocktail. From childhood Diwali has always been a grand affair. Then I moved to America and it has never been the same. While sometimes I prefer the anonymity that Diwali heralds in the States, other times all I wish is to be back in my father's office gorging on cocktail samosas looking, eye at the door, waiting for an Uncle or Aunt to enter so we could attack them and watch them cough over a money filled envelope.

But Diwali brings with it a whole range of connotations that have disappeared into obsolete. Besides the usual Ram returning from exile, the underlying meaning that is associated with Diwali is simple: good over evil; light over darkness. And darkness comes in different forms. To a blind man, darkness is normal. That form of darkness can only be eliminated by a doctor. But to the ignorant, light is the truth.

When I have to look at how light has affected my own life, I think light in all forms has provided me with immense amounts of inspiration. It can be as simple as a star, the sun, my brightness in my Grandmothers eyes and even the twinkle in my cousin Sona's smile; all forms of motivation. But I also see in light in the good that other people do or in their successes which ultimately formed my webzine. Light is good in every form; there's no denying that.

What do I want for the New Year? Peace, happiness, success and the usual. But I also want guidance and direction in my life -- which I'm hoping Lord Ganesh will assist me with by demolishing all obstacles and Goddess Lakshmi will help in by providing me with the moolah to fulfill my dreams. And Pritish Nandy twittered the following for Diwali which summarizes life easily: "If you pursue Lakshmi, she runs away from you. But if you chase Saraswati,Lakshmi usually comes along." And I couldn't have said it better.

Happy Diwali!!

Tales from my Grandmother

My grandmother has seen life in all its facets and extremes. If she's seen the best, she has also unfortunately, seen the worst of times too. While she is always up to telling me lots of fascinating stories about her childhood, her marriage and times in between, she also never fails to educate me. One of the best tales she has told me was about a small well natural spring that is in my neighborhood in Mumbai. About a miles walk from our tall raised building in South Mumbai, lies an spiritual area filled with small temples, guru's and the Banganga or Bal Ganga. Honestly, I've visited this natural spring many a time, but never have I questioned its existence and always thought that it was man made. However, one evening as my grandmother and I took a walk, I asked her if she had been there recently to which she quickly replied, "Of course!" I smiled to myself and wondered why I had even asked that ridiculous question. This was my grandmother - whom I refer to as Mummy. She was the most religious being I knew. She then told me that the Bal Ganga had a beautiful story which has been virtually untold and unknown.

As the story goes, when Lord Ram, his wife Sita and brother Lakshman had stopped in this area for a break while his kingdom was being terrorized by the demon God Ravan. The trio were thirsty for water and when none was to be found, he shot an arrow into the ground which produced what is now known as the Bal Ganga. Attached to the ganga, is a small temple known as Walkeshwar Mandir. The mandir is said to be built of sand by Lakshman, hence the name. According to legend, Valuka Ishwar means Lord of the Sand. Every year, musical maestros and traditional dancers get together to dance on the banks of the Bal Ganga and give their offerings to Lord Ram.

It's amazing how we miss out on such amazing details in our own neighborhood. Granted, I've never lived in Mumbai but in my heart, I've always been a Bombaywala. After the story was over, I looked at my grandmother and was so thrilled that she had told me such an amazing story. It was one I knew I would pass down to my own children. It was then I had another realization. On a daily basis, I read of the youth wanting to help the country. They want to adopt children who are unfortunate, give them a great life and add to their list of good deeds. Additionally and hopefully, the one above may look at their wonderful act of service and decide to knock of a few bad karma points. But what really sucks, is that they don't realize that we are so bothered about tomorrow, that we forgot about yesterday; i.e. Senior Citizens. These are the very people who gained us our independence from the evil clutches of colonial rule, they have taught us lessons in life and once they become a tad bit old (I dislike the world senile), we toss 'em in an old age home. Honestly, old age homes should be banned not only in India but across the world. It's sad how we fail to realize their importance in our lives. I wish for every adopted child, people across the world would also adopt a senior citizen. Until then, I do hope that I can one day be of some use to these amazing people.

Lesson(s) Learnt: 1) My grandmom is a rock star, 2) Old folk tell the best stories, give the best hugs, and have the softest hands in the world. Because I may never get to do this, I love you Mummy!

Photo Credit: www.gsbkerala.com/gsbmutt.htm