Anyway, my festive clock has gone for a toss. See, in Delhi, the festivities begin now. It’s beautiful. Slowly, the days will get shorter. Dusk will come about sooner and dawns will be slightly hazy, lazily warning you of the cold to follow. Little, twinkling strings of lights will come up in balconies and windows. Societies and clubs will go berserk enticing people to their Diwali melas. There will be diyas to buy, mithai boxes to get packed, card parties to attend, long walks to check out the innovative lights……
Hubby would always be amused by my reaction to September. My anticipation for Navratri, Diwali, Karva Chauth, and glorious winters is all summed up in this one month. In Mumbai, with Ganpati Puja, the festivities arrive sooner. And while I partake of them with as much enthusiasm as I possibly can, they are not an intrinsic part of me. And this is when I begin to miss home.
Diwali will be at Delhi, of course.
Diwali in Delhi is magical.