Diwali dreams

The fataka bazaar was decked up like a bride; resplendent with the bright and colorful shops for Diwali, the festival of lights. The shops were a world in themselves, crackers of all sorts found takers here, there were the evergreens like fuljhari, anaar, chakri, rockets, atom bombs…which were always in demand, but what sold like hot cakes this year was the fireworks that formed colorful patterns in the sky. They were a little expensive but it was a joy to watch them, unlike a rocket that just leaves a trail of fire, the firework emits a thousand dazzling stars, which twinkle for sometime before fading away in the night.

Shubhu dreamed of bursting a firework one day, where he would find the money to buy one he didn’t know, but he thanked God that at least he could dream for free. He worked for ‘Pushpa fireworks’ a small shop in fataka bazaar, the owner of the shop Wasim bhai was an eccentric fellow he owned a restaurant also named after Pushpa (Pushpa was the name of Wasim bhai’s first love.) in Gandhi bazaar, the busiest market of the city. He was well known in the city’s restaurant circle as an extremely miserly fellow, he had the reputation of recycling food, infinitely; the recycling industry could learn a lesson or two from him. He mixed and matched the dishes so well that the end result was lip-smacking concoctions; days of recycling lent the food a distinct flavor, which somehow fresh food lacked, and as a result ‘Pushpa Restaurant’ did a brisk business all through the year.

Out of the many eccentricities of Wasim bhai, was his fascination for crackers, his father always set up a shop in the fataka bazaar for Diwali, and this is where Wasim bhai’s love for crackers blossomed. Diwali was Wasim Bhai’s favorite festival, though he was a Muslim he celebrated Diwali with much more gusto than Id. As a kid he used to spend the days before Diwali lost in the cramped streets of fataka bazaar, there wasn’t a single cracker that escaped Wasim bhai's greedy eyes. Chemistry became his favorite subject in school because he used to research the chemicals that went into making of a cracker, Copper gave the cracker a distinct blue color, iron made it emit gold sparks and so on. And the day of Diwali, what fun it used to be! He would ensure that he had all the varieties of crackers available in the fataka bazaar for the D–day; he fired crackers starting early evening deep into the night. Starting the day with fuljhari, anaar and chakarrs and ending it with a ladd of 10,000 bombs, the sound of which resonated in the night for fifteen minutes to the least and which Wasim bhai likened to the firing at a country’s border.

When Wasim bhai’s father died early this year, it was but natural for him that he set up the shop in fataka bazaar himself this Diwali. And so he left the restaurant at the hands of his assistants (warning them strictly not to serve fresh food) a month before Diwali and set up ‘Pushpa fireworks’, he loved being in fataka bazaar, the place resounded of his childhood memories and in Shubhu he saw his own self, the kid shared his fascination for crackers, his face had lit up on seeing the numerous crackers neatly stacked in the shop’s shelves when Wasim bhai had allowed him inside the shop for the first time. Shubhu was very good with numbers he used to always top his class in maths and he assisted Wasim bhai with the shop’s accounts.

Shubhu came from a poor family his father was a mechanic in a garage and his mother was a domestic help, but being the only kid of his parents he was well-loved, apple of his parents’ eyes. They would have never allowed him to work, but Shubhu was adamant, he wanted to work during the Diwali holidays and earn some money. Every year his parents brought him new clothes and sweets during Diwali never buying anything for themselves, he wanted it to change this year. Wasim bhai had promised him Rs. 500 for his help with the accounts, how he wished he could buy some crackers with them, but crackers are a waste of money he reasoned with himself, he would buy a sari for his mother and a brand new shirt for his father, it’s been so long since they bought new clothes for themselves. But his heart still ached for crackers, when people bought crackers worth thousands of rupees from the shop he envied them, he was a kid after all and no amount of logic would convince his innocent heart.

Diwali morning was sleepy but with an expectance of the celebrations that lay ahead, Shubhu had already selected a lavender colored Sari with a rich border for his mother, his mother would look lovely in it, he thought, as for the shirt he hadn’t selected one till now, but do so as soon as he got the money. Wasim Bhai was in a particularly good mood today, he hadn’t shouted on anyone since morning and when Shubhu went to him he handed him a crisp 500 hundred-rupee note with a pat on his back. “Buy some crackers for yourself and have fun bursting them tonight!” he said, but Shubhu told him sheepishly that he had already thought of spending the money on his parents’ clothes. He had said this with such longing in his eyes that Wasim bhai was saddened to his core, in a rare gesture of generosity he handed Shubhu a box of assorted crackers. And with a wink he warned him “Don’t tell this to anyone, it won’t do good to my reputation”, Shubhu was left speechless for a moment but when he regained his senses he thanked Wasim bhai from the bottom of his heart.

Diwali for Shubhu this year was nothing like the years before, his parents had tears in their eyes when he presented them with the gifts, both hugged him lovingly. And in the night he burst his first firework ever, as the cracker took flight so did Shubhu’s countless dreams, and as the firework burst emitting thousands of little green stars, they lent a twinkle to Shubhu’s eyes, a twinkle that comes from seeing dreams come true.