I am so glad I am not celebrating diwali in the city. For once I am away from the vulgarity and commercialization that seems to have grown around all of our festivals. For once I can have a calm, peaceful, pollution-free, noise-free diwali. Although I can hear the occasional fire cracker here, it does not have the urban feel to it.
Yay! :)
We went out for a peaceful post-dinner walk the other day, my colleague Shreekant; Zara, a Scottish anthropologist; Sunit, a Krishnamurthi reader and I. It was one of those impromptu things that turn out to be great because they haven’t been previously planned. So we walked about randomly along the dimly lit mud roads of Rishi valley recounting mad stories from our childhoods. There was a slight nip in the air and I was grinning for no particular reason. Because of the tree cover we couldn’t make out if the sky was clear or cloudy, until we came upon the school grounds which had a few lights along its periphery. These lights illuminated almost the entire ground except for one tiny patch where the light could not penetrate the dark--my window to infinity. Although I could see but a small patch of the night sky, for me, that night, that patch stretched on forever and even though I was very much on the ground, I could touch the distant stars.
I made two new friends at Rishi Valley- BBT and Old Alfred. Both BBT and old Al are long past their youth.
BBT is probably the oldest guy around needing support to stand, but he still stands tall in his last days, so much so that you can actually feel his pride even from a distance.
Old Al looks beautiful in his brown wrinkles. In his presence you feel calm and serene.
They both seem to have gathered wisdom that can only come with age.
Here are their pictures:
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