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