Happy Diwali

I am not in the best of moods now, so I think I will talk about my baby nephew, Karan, to lift my spirits. He is getting more spherical by the day and is rising to be his Ma and Pa's pride and joy. "He's a sporty sorts", my cousin tells me. At barely two and half months, I don't understand how 'sporty' he can possibly get. But parents of new-born children get slightly dim, I think. My cousin told me that the two month old has taken up 'cheek fight' - where he pushes his plump cheek against that of any volunteering face, and then promptly pummels it with his soft, pudgy fists.

"He always wins!", my cousin laughs.

Right. So my nephew, who may in the future do something significant such as discover a planet or something, is currently being heralded as a formidable cheek fighter. What a champ!

Really, parents!

My nephew is so cute, though. A veritable carrot dumpling!

Lighting diyas is an interesting experience. The wick is so sad and droopy when it is greased with ghee, lying coiled like a wet dream. Then you light it and it burns - clear, sharp, and straight. Setting fire is a good thing, sometimes.

Then, after the diya is lit, you may move to another sleepy wick. But perhaps you are not careful and the hot wax drips on your finger or you almost touch the tip of the flame, and suddenly the incendiary snip jolts you out of your reverie. The diya continues to burn sharp and stong. But maybe there's a wind and the flame wavers. You quickly cup your palms around it and tenderly fortify the jubilant spot of light. Even fire needs to be tended to gently, no matter how fierce it seems.

In manner of extrapolation, that's the way to love an Arien, perhaps?

From champy Karan and Arien aunt - wish you all a fabulous Diwali!!