Nostalgic Onam

I look above - I see the dry sky, scorching sun, polluting fumes;
I look around - I see towering waste, ascending corruption and senseless competition;
I look ahead – I see my dying earth, lifeless lives and distorting humanity!

Then I close my eyes and look back.
And Yes! There I see the way I celebrate Onam!

 

I see my childhood sans technology –
with no beeps, no rings or no discourse of dump set;
but rich with the chirp of little birds and whisper of the august breeze.
I see myself running after the Onam butterflies.
Wandering with friends in the early morning for now extinct flowers.
I feel the caring touch of my grandfather.
I feel the taste of my grandmother’s pickle.
I see the floral decoration with the flowers from the backyard.
I see myself sitting near the pond with friends, throwing stones and watching the ripples
I see nothing artificial - neither the food served, nor the love showered.
I see everything around is so simple, so organic, so divine – and I feel so much divinity in me.

For me celebrating Onam is all about sitting in the couch and sipping this rich nostalgia – and nothing else. It is this nostalgia which serve me the inspiration to hang on for another year - till I see King Mahabali coming back again to see me. And silently, with my closed eyes, I pray, one day I will merge forever with my rich nostalgia.