Tomorrow is Diwali. It is one of the most celebrated
festivals of India. Countless presents are exchanged, sweets are distributed
and everyone tried their level best to buy new clothes, crackers and some
candles to usher in this day according to their economic capability. Big or small,
we all love this festival of lights.
I run a small evening school and we have roughly close
to 100 children. So, keeping in mind that its Diwali I have been holding joint
lectures for all ages and we build up the picture of the festival, first
discussing the words that describe the festive occasion and then the complete
essay. The school is for the lower middle class, underprivileged classes who
have no access to English or math’s tutoring. Thus, we were talking about dry fruits
and what they mean.
Lots of children associated with it, because they eat
them as a part of the dry Prasad given at temples, jagraatas! So all said and done, everyone understood,
class was dismissed and they came back the next day and we all discussed the essay.
Nothing eventful, everyone wrote about the sanctity, the lights and the joy and
the bursting of crackers (new word for them).
In the end, a little girl came up to me and she had
something clenched in her hand. I looked at her and asked her what she wanted
to say. In her hand, tightly clenched was a plastic bag. From that bag she took
out, a dried piece of apricot. I looked at her and she said I saved the last
piece for you.
This is a true gift that cannot be equaled. From a
little girl from Rajasthan (migrant labor) a gift unparalleled. She explained
to me, the meaning of Diwali and the fact that sometimes it does make a difference.
In a society that is becoming extremely class conscious sometimes it helps to listen
to the inner voice . I never thought it would spiral into something like this..
Happy Diwali , and try giving the next street kid a
little something , the smile will warm your heart longer.
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