lonely lights

“Aditi! Ye dekh garam garam gujiya bana hai. Jaldi bata kaisa hai…”
It’s good. Obviously it is. It’s made by chachi n taiji. Everything’s perfect. Everything except something. Something’s missing. But what??
The diwali hustle bustle goes on. Taiji manages to move the mightiest and the laziest and gets the work done. Me n shruti are busy helping wherever possible. N advait and himanshu can’t get their hands off the laptop. Bhaiya’s busy too. Lots of work to do.
And lots of gossip to catch on. Problems to be shared. College life to be discussed. There’s laughter in the air. Chacha n his pj’s bring a smile on every frustrated and tired face.
Everything’s going fine.But what the hell!! Whats this void I feel?
Whats wrong? Whats unusual?
D day (literally). Everyone’s up besides the fact that everyone slept late. Garlands are made , the rangoli put (although di still remains the maestro), all the cooking done, everybody’s busy with their cell phones messaging and replying back to peoples wishes.. I ask mum are we forgetting something? Mum racks her brains and tries to remember what’s left. “Oh! The ironing!” some how I feel that’s not what I was looking for.
Evening all the diyas ready, everyone’s looking their best. All dressed up in traditional. Time for the individual pooja everyone does. Not the usual affair. My turn. But why is chachi telling me what to do? Why am I being offered panchamrut by shruti?
Then it sinks in. and the tears start rolling.
The gujiya did not have the usual taste though made by the same people who have been doing it since years. There was no loud voice ringing in my ears shouting “beta zara star plus laga de.” The atmosphere was not charged up with the enthusiasm it had always been. Dad ringing the bell during the bhajan was a very unusual sight. The aarti was sung in such low hushed up voices. The bhai dooj story had no fun. The ubtan did not smell right. Nor did the atta ladoos...
Dadi was not there.
Nor was her fragrance. Nor was her voice.
Somehow I had to accept the fact that all the diwalis in the future would have this feeling of incompleteness staring at you on your face.