The only difference I see between this and last year Deepavali is that, our street strength has been significantly skyrocketed. Last year, I recall, me, my brother and 2 more teens were the only four who busted vedis, out of enthusiasm, at the mid of road. The rest of the houses, 30 or so, were still. I mean pin drop silence. No crackers. Nothing. This lack of encouragement, which one expects from the neighbors, dampened our young spirit. Thus unable to show off, boxes of bijilis, lakshmi vedis, kuruvi vedis, Krishna vedis were left untouched and wasted. We simply didn’t have the heart to blow it when we had nil audience and zero cheers. So we vowed that, hereafter we should not waste money on vedi’s to bust in a place which has absolutely no sense of appreciation. Hence this year crackers find no place at our home. Not even the sparklers. No, not even a match box. But we missed out the fact that life is not an illaya thalabathi Vijay movie to remain stagnant.
I don’t understand what happened to rest of those 30 houses in the period of 365 days. Suddenly, for every 2 home, there seems to be 3 or more kids planted this year. Especially, the marvadi homes. If government of India had a peek at our quarters, I am sure they will regret and revisit their family planning scheme. Anyway, this sudden migration of people to our colony dramatically altered the way by which Deepavali was once celebrated. There were sheer competitions among broods on whom to bomb our compound wall first. Some of the busters, at the other end of street, sent rockets in to the warehouse, out of confusion. This fire accident distracted the mood. Everyone worried for a wee bit and blamed each others for the tragedy. Soon everyone was back to busting business. I and my bro watched this whole episode with empty hand. The kids did sneer at us twice for being empty hand and offered couple of bijilis from their pockets.
If I correctly remember, I think exactly at 6 ‘o’ clock, I got the first taste of head ache. Initially I guessed, it must be the aftermath of atom bomb. I was patient, encouraging myself to watch movies and gobbling tins of sweet stuffs. I even tried to watch “Dasavataram” telecasted at kalaignar TV amidst advertisements. Whether it is Kamalhasan’s complex accents or Kalaignar TV ads or the nerve cell deflecting atom & hydrogen bombs , I cannot precisely point out , but at 9’o’ clock I asked faithfully for a cup of lemon juice believing it would cool down my head and it’s other accessories. No happy results. Further 2 tablets of Saridon and half a bottle of Amurthanjan were wasted in the effort to bring back the charm of my head. I slept the whole night with knitted eyebrows and hands over the head.
It took next 48 hours of deep peaceful sleep, except for occasional lunch or dinner, to bring back the functioning of my brain with out pain. Now it is fine.