in

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,

And ground glass patterns of welcoming colours.

In anticipation of that time of the year.

.

Till the sun vanished from the skies

And the moon 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 little earthen lamps

With their little wicks, oil-damped,

Stood fighting the darkness and the chill,

With their little flickering flames

And it was that time of the year.

Diwali was here.

©Sai

Pic credit: Pixabay

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Written by Sai

When thoughts began to rhyme,
And lines found a heartbeat,
I transformed from a dentist to a poet.

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