Cooked up plumes of grey
Emerged from the happy past;
When the days were glorious,
And sweet memories were cast.
Beautiful years were spent
For the festival of lights,
And I figured not
How these days went by;
While the pangs of loss
Strummed the chords of love;
Dying to leave a melody of life.
As I look back on those bright
days
Of the Festival of Lights,
When crackers never seemed to
end,
When laughter never seemed to
leave,
When lights lit the leftovers
As a golden farewell,
The words of yesterday seemed to
burn
In the bold flame of doleful doubt.
As the familiar faces and
familiar nights
Take the show of today
From the lost yesterday,
My mind lies desirous
Of enjoying today with bits of
the past,
Forgetting the present.
The lane where familiar lights
Used to dwell,
Where we grew up,
Today shall seem a bit blurred—
Blurred by the loss of friends,
Blurred by the curse of
distance.
Where the mind desperately seeks
for a reunion,
Where the heart desperately
tries to win the present,
I wish to live in that land of
glory,
Where my wish shall guide me
through,
Where lost memories shall be
held back,
And I shall live in that land of
glory.
Is it a lightless Diwali?
Or is it just a figment of my imagination?
