It was a festival
of light, a festival of new clothes, new hopes, new laughter, new
dreams, a festival of beaming smiles and greetings. The incessant
clamoring of children, the deafening booms of the firecrackers
interspersed with squeals of high pitched delight. The environment was
brimming with life. I guess festivals have that in them, they make
people bloom.
The ground was strewn with shredded colored paper, pieces of broken
strings, empty cartons of firecrackers and wisps of smoke wafted by in
the cool night breeze. The children were hovering around one boy who was
about to light the fuse of a firecracker, the excitement could be seen
in that tense body. The fuse lit…. a momentary lull and the firecracker
burst and the children went OOOOOO .
One kid was in the forefront of that group, the chirpiest of the lot,
coaxing others, laughing the loudest, his clothes weren’t new but they
were clean, neatly patched in places, a beautiful grin on his face. He
did not own any firecrackers, he did not have new clothes but he was the
happiest of the lot. He was a special kind of a person, a person who
could soak up the happiness around him and then radiate it ten fold all
over. His happiness was that contagious.
He lived in a small shack behind the housing complex, his father, a
habitual drunkard, worked as a day laborer doing odd jobs around the
houses. His mother was a housemaid serving the nearby households. They
barely eked out a living but in their own ways they made do with what
they had, and if they were lucky they would get some handouts from the
people living in the complex.
It was getting late in the night and after the stock of firecrackers was
depleted, people started to wander off to their houses, the children,
breathless and tired but happy, bundled off to bed and the silence of
the night crept in slowly.
After about an hour or so a stealthy shadow could be seen moving on
silent feet with a burlap sack picking up the shredded paper, empty
cartons and the dud firecrackers. Carefully, small hands picked up the
brightest of the paper and put them in the sack till the sack was
filled. The shadow vanished as quietly as it had appeared.
Next morning, there was this group of children in front of the shack,
awestruck and silent as they gazed enviously at the shredded paper
spread over the ground, empty cartons of firecrackers carelessly thrown
around. The place resembled a street square after a huge celebration.
And the boy was once again in the forefront, talking nonstop about the
fun he had. “Oh!!!! You should have seen the lights and the sounds from
my firecrackers… I have never seen so much in my life and the sound
almost made me deaf, it was so loud, where were you all guys, you sure
missed the greatest spectacle in the town” and the other boys wryly
shook their heads and mumbled about having been put to bed early. “My
father got them for me, and wanted to surprise me and man!!!!! He sure
DID, coz when I reached home … there they were waiting for me, I took me
at least 4 hours to go through the firecrackers. It was soooo much fun I
have the best father in the world” he trilled .
From inside the shack the father turned on his side in his sleep, bleary
bloodshot eyes opened for a while trying in vain to focus in a drunken
stupor, gave up and closed. A calloused hand scratched at a chin and he
passed out again. An incoherent mumbling was lost amidst the pealing
laughter of the children.
And a new day awaited the boy to paint his dreams on.
Boloji.com is owned and managed by
Boloji Media Inc Privacy Policy |
Disclaimer No part of this Internet site may
be reproduced without prior written permission of the copyright holder.
It was a festival
of light, a festival of new clothes, new hopes, new laughter, new
dreams, a festival of beaming smiles and greetings. The incessant
clamoring of children, the deafening booms of the firecrackers
interspersed with squeals of high pitched delight. The environment was
brimming with life. I guess festivals have that in them, they make
people bloom.