A rocket burst right outside my window and for a dazed, sleepy second I didn't quite understand the madness. Then, I realised it was Diwali and I had better get used to it fast.
Argh.
I looked at the watch and it was still a bit before dawn so I had some time to sleep but I supposed it was of no use. Diwali had already begun for some of us and I couldn't sleep in even if I wanted to.
I got up and made my way out. Just as I crossed into the hallway, I narrowly missed being hit by a basket of flowers that was being carried onto the terrace. It was crazy already and it was just five thirty in the morning.
I slowly climbed down the stairs and the first thing I noticed was that both my parents were up. I almost wanted to make my presence known but instead choose to run in the neighbourhood. I carefully slipped out of the house and put my earphones in place. Misery Business started to play.
I ran for about a quarter of a kilometre when I finally started to realise that deciding to run was such a bad idea. There were burnt firecrackers everywhere. And if that didn't deter me before, the remnant smoke from firing them definitely did.
I got home dejectedly and hoped that my parents wouldn't spot me. I wasn't that lucky this time.
'Viann! The tailor said your clothes will be done by three in the afternoon. Pick them up please.'
Thankfully they didn't say much else except for the occasional 'Beta, woh dena,' for the rest of the day.
Time passed by quickly and when the clock struck seven, many of our guests started pouring in. I was seated at the Puja for an hour then and kept glancing at the door time and again to see if Nihal had arrived. Suffice to say, I was incredibly bored.
My mom and dad did the standard stuff, none of which required my attention or concentration. So my mind kept drifting to things which I definitely shouldn't have been thinking, especially during a Puja.
At around seven thirty, Nihal arrived with his family. He wore a dark purple kurta with gold embroidery which was paired with a gold shade of chudi and shoes. It was definitely not his best attire but he still managed to look strikingly good and apparently the girls knew it too because they couldn't keep their eyes off of him. He sat somewhere in the crowd and by the time the Puja was over, I was half salivating and half miserable at not showing more devotion.
A little later, after the Puja, the Aunties and Uncles had all accustomed themselves to our lawn where tables had been set up so they could play cards. In fact, our entire house had been decorated to suit the occasion.
Lights and flowers had been draped like curtains on the walls, creating an ethereal effect that made my me feel like I was some place else entirely.
The trees surrounding the compound had been dressed with lanterns, diyas adorned the path leading to our house and our veranda had been coloured with beautiful rangolis. Our house looked no less than a palace, there wasn't any other word.
'You don't want flies,' said someone, behind me.
My mouth shut on the words' impact. I turned around and got engulfed in the brilliance that was Nihal Mehra.
'Pretty isn't it?' I asked. I was of course only half referring to the garden.
'Yes it is.' He was looking at me the same way he did just the day before. I didn't quite know what to make of it.
'Can't expect anything less from your mother,' he added after a second.
It was a simple observation about my mother's event planning skills that were quite honestly, if I might say- exemplary. But him acknowledging the small thing made my heart warm. That boy was too considerate which couldn't be said for even half of our guests.
