Diwali, festival of light; a day to reinvent and enlighten. The saint said it was the advent of freedom, freedom from evil, clutches of obsession. We also celebrate it as an invocation to the Goddess of wealth. But my morning was a disaster; the mocking monster of deprivation of people around took away the nestling joy that I had a desire to savour. Unlike Dussehara, the festival of deepavali is sedate in this part of India, the idols and crackers, the clamorous beating of Dholes and cymbals and blazing light décor, burst of high decibel crackers, all are in their place; yet people appear less boisterous .

 For last few years autumn had lost its elegance. This year also it was no exception; albeit the climate was solemn and passive, almost like a spastic kid it was crawling to charm, a little warm and more featureless. I strolled around the banks of the holy river. People and mostly beautiful plump women were swarming the Ghats and offering prayers at the Ghats. I had a chance to listen to a discourse at one of the congregation; it appeared odd on the day of rejuvenation. The saffron clad monk was delivering an address on Benediction and Forgiveness.  

   Long back as a kid and a teen I used to scheme to vent my anger and frustration even at the smallest slight I suffer at the hands of my peers and seniors. Of course they were all wordy vengeance; the injury intended was to the spirit and mind and the result wished was a mitigation of hurt through retort. As I grow up a sense of desolation crept in and the futility of being hurt and resentful took predominant space in my thought process.

   The myth and history has more glorification and justification for retribution and forgiveness is always secondary to reprisal.  Then why forgiveness! I have heard people attributing this trait to weakness and for them it is putting down the sword in a duel and when we invoke the Supreme, it is incongruous to put aside the ego and try to render cessation of acrimony and stand atop to vie for a moral stature. I was never enamoured with Forgiveness as a word. It leads me to a high where I dispense subdued justice for I seek redemption as a superior being.  If one opts for forgetting the wrongdoing and move as if nothing has happened before then it would put me at ease. Yet it is easy as far as trivial, isolated innocuous slights are concerned. Can we stand as high at a place where we can isolate our sense of dignity to redeem the evil through magnanimity. Really I don’t perceive an equitable answer.

But when I leafed through pages of life, I have almost forgotten the woman who called my father a wreck, my mother a hapless widow, the bald man, who had ruffled hair on his chest and back told my grandfather a wicked blind man, whom God made to suffer for his cons. Yet I know they were all simple having no design to deter harmony. I have only laughed at myself for being beguiled by self seeking friends and enamoured by deceit and decoy by a few women. Never have I thought of forgiving and allowed time to make free of the hurt and rancour and never deceived myself to be outrageously moralistic to render benediction and assuage suffering through forgiving. I am humane enough to be hurt and be calm till I have settled down. I radiate in light and try temperate my withering through dark brooding.          

 (I loved scribbling at this space and enjoyed this more than elsewhere.)