HAPPY DIWALI What strikes me most about popular festivals like Diwali, is their infectious excitement. For many, this is areligious and cultural experience and has a serious, intimate meaning. But since it has strayed into the public domain of the irreligious masses, it has become something of a phenomenon. Diwali reminds me of a mad rush to the beach, or an ecstatic whirlwind romance, or a fantastic day with friends without worries: strangers come together and celebrate; but what do they celebrate? Their lives? Their hopes? Their faith in a better future? The very best of being in a crowd moved by the same motif is that you worry about nothing, you just are. I know very little about the religious or philosophical connotations or the origins of Diwali. I just look and see; I hear and try to understand. People are happy, they light candles, they eat, they party, they celebrate. That is what seems to be happening this week. I wish all celebrating the very best of outcomes. So I dare to join in on this most famous and popular festival in our communities. In my innocent ignorance, I hope not to cause offence or upset. The Diwali lamp, as I understand it, is a simple, mass produced item, made of clay or metal into which you pour oil and place a wick. A battery operated torch or an arc light might be more effective, less dangerous and more portable, but it would somehow not be the same. The little lamp surely cannot be a complicated work of art, imposing presence, protagonistic. It has to be humble, let the light shine. So here is my offering: this one is slightly broken, one of the scallops crumbled in the making, but it is somehow for me appropriate, serene, jolly, unpretentious, un-self-conscious, just a container for a bit of oil and a wick (or in this case a tea light). It blushes quietly and nurtures a little flame of hope, like cupped hands. This is a reduced reading, but it is big enough for me, today.
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