A strange Diwali it was, my second one like this actually. I din’t really feel so strange about it last time as much as I did this year though. This one din’t have me wake up early to have oil applied on my head by amma or paati, no muttering of forgotten vague slokas and prayers, no oil bath before sunrise, no new clothes given by the bade log, no early morning cracker bursting with bhai, no finishing of Stock 1 of firescrackers by 8am to return home upstairs to have fresh hot idlis(soft all over) and wadas(crispy on the outside, soft on the inside) with chutney and sambar made by amma, No loitering about , No eating more of the big leaf food, no afternoon deep dozing, no evening more new clothes, no some more surplus fireworks, no single bombs extravaganza and no more of the rockets(best saved for last). no special diwali dinner followed by watching diwali special events on TV with everyone.
Where I am its the wrong diwali, well atleast from the customs of my community, who cares about that though. Did a dance performance(thats a good thing), changed into a sari that showed off my tattoo, went off for pot luck party , drank quite a bit, danced a lot, to bed at 4am, sweet undraping, woke up hungover, cleaned the house for hours, had a pancake meal at 3pm, lounged, wore new clothes gifted by jolly aunty and handed to me by myself, went to see the fireworks with Boy, ate idlis and dosa at Chidambrams, happy, beautiful, kuscheln, sleep, not the old home, but home nevertheless,