Sunday, 3 November 2013

Happy Diwali...... pomegranates and He-Man

Pomegranates and He-Man. My enduring memories of Diwali at home with Ma, Pa & little sis.

When we were little, Pa used to bring home one pomegranate every Diwali. Just the one. A rare and an expensive fruit once upon a time in a India, for his two precious girls. Every year it was the sweetest thing we ever tasted. Over the years, the presence of the fruit started getting more frequent. But now when I think of Diwali at home - I am little again, dizzy with anticipation for our special treat.

So for the last 14 years, I have been trying to turn around and retrace my steps - buy pomegranates every Diwali. I close my eyes and inhale like I haven't breathed in ages. But I have yet to find one that tastes just as sweet or smells just as delicious.

And then there was He-Man. Every year after she had bought us new clothes, Ma used to let us buy a few garishly coloured clay toys. The dazzling colours and the array of the caricatured figurines spread across markets meant a few giggling hours spent trying to buying the clay toys.


One year, both my sister and I were fixated on He-Man on TV and desperate for the He-Man toy, which we were promised one Diwali. Not sure why, but the thrill and fuss of that year looms large in my memory. I can clearly see the He-Man toy sharing space next to all the clay figurines that Diwali.

I thought I should start my own traditions with my son, and asked what he wanted for Diwali - "Something exciting," said the boy who clearly wants for nothing.

Some things happen only with your parents, and this here is not the house I share with them. These moments don't happen here.



 

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