Happy Deepavali :-)

My alter ego got a big break sometime back when he came to Hyderabad. He got to perform in a grand movie called Dreams directed by youknowwho. Sometimes, my alter-bugger's act is so fine that he manages to nuzzle my emotions. Today is one of those days.

As the 21 month stint comes to an end, I wonder if I can last at anyplace for more than 2 years. I’m on bank number 3 right now, and at this rate, I could be with all the major Fed 16 banks by the time I reach 50! Those who have worked with me would happily bet at the odds that I would retire before I even turn 30. Anyways. Right now, I want to whole-heartedly live and remember every moment spent here with my friends and, uh, lots of amazing friends.

On the eve of Diwali, I'd like to share somethings with you. I hardly celebrate festivals anymore. Something inside me has got to speak to me, I guess. Festivals are supposed to be a celebration of life - with all your loved one's. In my last few years, one Diwali was celebrated with a group of friends in London, next one with my family in Mumbai and the last one with chaps from all over India. This one’s going to be in Hyderabad again, most probably with those of us who are still here.

To kick start the festival celebrations at work, our bank organised a game of tambola (Bingo/Housie) on the floor. It was fun with a twist – all the money collected by way of tambola tickets would be given out to flood victims in AP – more than 7 lac people have lost their homes in last month’s fury. And that’s not it; the bank even promised to match an equal amount of sum that we would collect, so that many people would be encouraged to play.. We ended up collecting almost Rs. 15,000 from across the bank. Even though it’s like a very small amount as compared to the estimated 10,000 cr. that would be needed to rehabilitate all the people in AP and Karnataka – at least it’s something. Every one of us can make a difference, and everyone should! The entire event was fun!

Later, there was a Rangoli competition organised by the People's committee. Teams of three’s or five’s got together for an evening of fun and frolic across the bank. Nothing brings us Indians together as the celebration of a festival with its limitless shared moments of joy, happiness, understanding, love and what not’s. And if it also involves goofing around and doing absolutely nothing, then our teams here are so very competent at it. Those who weren’t participating were cheering the participants anyways. :D. Of course all the south Indian women decked up in a sari with hues of peacock blue, jhatak red, sunset orange, peach and green added much mirth to the atmosphere.

This was our team's entry for the Rangoli, it did not win - but who cares? I think it’s a master piece nevertheless.

I particularly liked this one.

Years ago I would sit down with my mum, carefully unroll a grid paper, place it with perfection outside the front door and fill up the dots with chalk powder. Then, I would set out to masterfully (in my child-opinion) carve semi circles, half moon curves, or straight lines and fill them up with various colours. With my mom’s careful direction and supervision, of course. I'd sit down and draw a peacock or flowers or some such wonderful design.

And Mommy would tell me about her days in Kalol and Ahmedabad and the story of King Rama and his return to Ayodhya and about the festival of lights and why we were doing what we were doing. Stories, that she had - in another era - heard from my grandmother.

'' Many years ago, '' she would say, '' a very great king's only son died. The king was so overcome by grief that he left his entire kingdom and turned into an ascetic. He went to the Himalayas living the life of a yogi and for many years focussed all his energy on yoga or sadhana. As a tapasvi. He wanted to meet Lord Brahma and ask of Him a blessing/ a boon/ a vardan. His tapasya – a heavy penance that includes fasting and meditation, pleased Lord Brahma. Lord Brahma granted the king to ask of Him anything that he desired. The king said that he wanted to see his son once again, to be with his son in this life once again. Tathastu, said Lord Brahma. So be it. He asked the king to paint a picture of the dead boy on the ground. The king did as commanded and to his amazement Lord Brahma then breathed life into the painting. The king’s son was, once again, beside him. ''

That is how and why Hindus began to paint Rangoli on their front door.

My daddy would light up diyas and sound a conch and explain to me the significance of 5 days of Diwali. He would open up the house to celebrate the victory of good over evil. He would tell us to be on the best of our behaviours, to be good, because Goddess Lakshmi would come visit the house, ''anytime now''. And if She was not pleased or found us to be mischievous she would leave and we would have had it. My bro and I, we would sit down quietly, eagerly anticipating her visit. Neighbours and relatives and friends and family would come over with sweets and greetings and smiles. And after some time we would become restless. We’d find a reason or two to sneak out so that we could hog on some more sweets, at a neighbours place.

In our sugary high we’d wander around randomly to find something that could engage our attention. We loved to go to everybody’s place to try out/ find out which aunty had made the best karanjis this year or which aunty had to buy readymade chaklis because her’s had turned out to be too salty.. When all the known neighbours would shoo us out we would then visit in big groups, to unknown people’s places, just like that, and wish them Happy Deepavali. We would burst crackers and try all kinds of brave/ revengeful things like bursting a very loud cracker at a certain person’s front door because he wouldn’t allow us to play cricket on the terrace.

Later in the night, I would sneak up to dad and ask him if Goddess Lakshmi had come to visit us.

'Oh, you didn’t see Her? She was here. I told you to sit at home. But no, you HAD to go out in spite of being told otherwise. Anyways. She will be here next year again. You be good and you will see Her then.'

And I couldn't wait for next year.

Sigh. No matter how old you grow up to be, you always need your father to put things into perspective. :-)

Yep. Leaving the past behind - in a few days, it will be time to celebrate happiness with family and friends back home once again!

Until then - everyone is invited to celebrate happiness of the festivals of this world.

After all, happiness does not come with a shelf-life.

Happy Deepavali!