That day was a silent metaphor for me. Although I was driving with upbeat Diwali lights shining all along the buildings at national highway, yet I was feeling something excessively dark inside me. It was like a hollow cylindrical duct been drilled at the exact centre of my chest and cold breeze kept rushing inside during this winter solstice, turning all tissues of my body numb. As I raced my old Honda motor bike at a speed of 128 km/hour, I could hardly feel any other vehicle being on the road.
All I could visualise were the scenes from yesterday’s Item no. 9 of the Court Room No. 74 at Faridabad’s Jila Adaalat. No matter how professionally one may lead a case, some untold whispers always occupy the mind right after one step out of that so called licit ambience and realise that such things actually exists outside the books also.
That supplicate look on her mother’s face was enough for my eyes & mind to make myself feel vulnerable for the entire week. I wonder, how one can expect these victims of an unnatural cause to be summoned to the legal doors immediately after they lost their beloved! She was innocently looking at her lawyer seeking meanings of dharas, adhiniyams and various legal terminologies. Wealth shall be a harsh word to describe the concern of this particular case, a janta flat situated in the sub-urbs of National Capital Region certainly shouldn’t be a concern of a dispute. And especially when this young widow had nothing more to sustain upon other than her adolescent little daughter after she was over with ceremony of cremation and had bid final farewell to her significant other.
Just an idea of counselling this lady to visit various government offices time & again for submitting applications, obtaining necessary certificates and completing procedures all by herself was terrible at a time when she was relentlessly swallowing the freshly brewed trauma down her throat.
As a part of my role I maintained that Al Pacino look from Godfather movie and kept my calm as I heard those despicable pleas in front of the jury from her opponents before I presented my part of arguments. It was somehow implicit that the one with heavy pockets is the one neediest here. Judges actually enjoys the pleasure of these skits being played to their comfortable seats. And even though they know the exact right conclusion from the Day 1, they will amuse themselves for years.
With all these thoughts I entered the gates of my home, took the keys out of that greasy lock of motor bike which I got lubricated a day ago and passed through my drawing room towards bathroom. I had no intention of giving a halt and opening a conversation with my family while I crossed them. Once all my non-figurative tears and abstract emotions were washed up in the warm shower, I dressed up for a smile.
My family had been waiting for me to join at Lakshmi-Ganesh Pujan. I think I must have read somewhere that “changing your clothes from black & white to colours often shifts your thoughts from despair to the one with assurances”.
Although I have a tendency to convince myself of being an atheist but those holy chants, musical aartis and that fragrance of agarbatti always contents my inner-self. Like all Diwalis, I had a gang of childhood buddies approaching my home for the delicious food- especially garma garam pooris that my mother prepares instantly. But before the food we all had to work together and set candles and divas at all possible boundaries and corners of my home. The greed of enjoyable meal always makes a good stout-diwali-belly from all of us but still icing of the meethi kheer full of crushed dry fruits shall never be missed. The aftermath was that we had to have a long walk at late night listening to crazy jokes and tales followed by sarcastic comments in the group while also enjoying the view of sky-shots and fireworks happening throughout the night.
The day was a tiresome but the festive attitude of this night had given me some sort of rejuvenation. At this last hour, I had to climb up my terrace to switch off the lights. The bright hours are settled now and shadows are waiting to upswing. I was hoping to see some moon light at least, but there was none tonight. While I turned my back towards those fancy electric lightings; I saw this Diya, this one was still bright. Well that’s one good significance of Dipawali; we lightens our homes while the nature has its sources concealed. It is like spirit of light is seeking to strike a conversation with the wind, the sky, the eyes, and the smile.
I seldom catch any time to equate my gains with the losses. While it is difficult to categorize certain emotions in the parameters of viability but unknowingly and sub-consciously we always maintain to keep our books straight.
For the young lady who lost her husband and yet had to go through the continuing misfortunes certainly did not had any gainful event to fix her equation at that time, a year ago. But when I met her at the similar time of this year’s Diwali, I saw how time equates everything in its own way. Even though her property case is still struggling at a slower pace but a beam of silver-lining can be seen at her face, when her daughter holds her hand and she walks into my office proudly. I never asked how well they are doing now but sometimes answers are communicated without questions being asked. Today, I saw two completely self-confident and secured women wishing me Happy Diwali unlike yesterday.
May be it is not just the Diwali that we celebrate rather we rejoice the equation- an equation of love, sorrows, happenings, mis-happenings, promotions, demotions, losses and gains. Sometimes these equations are perplexed but then, the word “equation” itself offers a responsive resolution.