Festival of fireworks

There's something that I forgot to tell you all. Deepavali/Diwali just went past. Not only did we all get a holiday on Monday, I got a packet of Sri Krishna Sweets and bonus from the office. The bonus is one thing that adds some zing to the drudgery of work. The sweets no longer hold much fascination for any of us at home, since we are on a glucose-free and fat-free diet, and so I dutifully passed it on to the watchman.

Ash began clamouring for crackers on Thursday, so we got some on Friday and burst them on the terrace. The smoke was the last thing that Ash's skin could take, but we did not have the heart to kill the boy's excitement.

And on Monday night, we joined V's colleague and family for a potluck supper (well, I just contributed beef curry) and more fireworks. Ash was thrilled but Mira was frightened stiff and wanted to go back home.

However it wasnt too noisy on Monday since the North Indian Diwali fell on Tuesday.

This came on Diwali day from a neighbour who is a pretty good cook. There is murukku (clockwise from top), thattu, athirasam, beetroot halwa (which was damn tasty) and medhu-vadai (made from black gram).

Though traditionally called a festival of lights, Deepavali these days is a festival of fireworks and milk sweets. A time for new clothes, new jewellery, new films at the theatre, though this year reports say that people were a bit more subdued and cautious about splurging.

The financial crisis is having its ripple effect here too. A sister-concern of V's firm has given quit notices to 2,000 staff, another 3,000 are likely to follow. And the IT-wallahs who lived for today with not a thought about tomorrow are going to find things really tough.