That time of the year

• The parched October air

Was too warm still,

To welcome any chill,

And it wasn’t yet that time of the year.

.

The little grain of gram

Turned around on slow heat

And fluffed up for a fragrant treat,

Ready to melt on an eager palate-

But it wasn’t yet that time of the year.

.

Houses decked up

Perfumed in fresh paint,

Both the opulent and the quaint,

Dressed up in novel palettes-

But it wasn’t yet that time of the year.

.

Every little shop

In every little street,

Lined up in inviting fleets,

Hung their lanterns, a tad too early-

For it wasn’t yet that time of the year.

.

They saw their happiness-

Explode into bright, loud bursts.

Drew scented baths, season’s very first;

In ground glass patterns of welcoming colours-

In anticipation of that time of the year.

.

Till the sun vanished from the skies

And the moon still did not show,

The first chill flowed

Through the dark lanes-

And it was almost that time of the year.

.

When lined up like sentinels,

A million earthen lamps

With their little wicks, oil-damped,

Stand fighting the darkness and the chill,

With their little flickering flames.

.

And the night as bright as day,

Celebrates this descent of the Milky way

Into our homes far and near,

And it is that time of the year-

Diwali is here.

.

©Sai2020

Pic credit: Pixabay