The sky is illuminated
I can’t tell whether it’s day or night
Our minds are surely twisted
If we believe lightening up the sky
Means celebration
Not to the little hands making these crackers
Not to the unlucky ones falling prey to its accidents
Smoke bellows and carries with it the sweet smell of compassion
Noise overpowers the chants of blessings
The monstrosity of explosions overshadow the radiance of lamps
Money can surely do anything
It can turn night into day
And
Festival into fanaticism.
~ Niharika Singh
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Editor: Renée Picard
Photo: Jasminder Oberoi at Pixoto
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