You deserve it Kid - Deepavali memoir 1

I have to really sequence these memoirs. Since I was in a mood to write what eever comming to my mind with out editing..

We used to live in a colony - a closed community colony for the sarvodaya employees - in my home town Tirupur. It was a small colony of 18 houses. I was born and lived till my 15 yrs there before moving to the current house. This is like any government quarters where you could see people of various level and the obvious politics - simple politics like having the right to access things - simple things like water, benefits, concession on power usage and so on. My mum lived in that place for 25 years with my dad and for her it is the world (Reality is, world is just outside the colony which it took around 30 yrs for her and our family - when we were locked out of colony and forced to find a new place)

Besides the ususal politics , the environment of a closed community is something one would have to be previlaged to get. You would know each and every member of the colony, their relavtives and their specific details of where they work / study. sometimes these visitors even know the neighbours of their hosts well enough to buy gifts for them. That was an awesome time.

There were only three types of family Type-1 - for eg - the family of the chief-seceratory of a specific department - who is like the boss of most of the others. The next day of diwali you could see the maximum amount of burnt crackers in front of their house. There there will be an Type-2 called poor man’s - where kids used to collect the burnt crackers from other house and spread in thier house, for obvious reasons . And then there will be a third type - where where kids dont have enough crackers, nor has guts to follow type-2.
Some times I used think how the hell these people get so much of crackers while my dad ususally get only a little - which I used to finish in just couple of hours and then will be watching like a ginger-monkey of others firing !!! Beleive me that is one of the most upsetting feeling in that times..watching others crackering, while you are done with your part. Crackers are the integral part of this deepavali.

My dad ususally gets cracker just 3 days before and it is extreme-joy for me to just see the way the crackers the bombs and the rockets are arranged in nice jazzy colored packing. I never used to get contented with the crackers my dad buy me. Finally my dad will tell me - why should one waste more money for smokes and fire - instead you can use that for better things. A usual middle class man's funda. When someone dont understand the meaning of "wasting money" how could you expect him to understand these lines..neverthless my parents used to say this.


Kaliammal was her name, he is the lady of our neighbour. Somehow we have been painted a witch image about her by our other neighbour and my mum (thru usuall ghossip). It was the early morning of the diwali day - 4:50 AM..i think. I was doing my 7th std I think. While my brother, sister and dad were getting ready for the oil bath on the rear side of the house – a usual ritual on the day, I took one of the serial shot ( there was a bet between me and my friend about who would fire the first cracker on the deepavali day) and was about to set the fire. This lady was just standing there and was filling water from the tap, while I was waiting restlessly for her to move out so that I can start my firing.

Knowing me there, this witch (note its W not B) is taking unusually more time to fill the bucket.I was worried that my friend might win me. After a few seconds,I gave up and wanted to see how she reacts to a suddent burst behind her back (as she has some real problem in hearing - a half deaf) - my wicked !! I set the fire – which was just behind her - and ran to a reasonably safe-distance . After all it was not a big one. After its usual animated gimmick, this cracker fall down and suddenly turned and part of it flew like a rocket ( you never predict the behaviour ) and before I could realise what had happened the piece that flew, hit my knee. I was wearing half-trousers then (and not a full pant or a dothi or never heard of a jean)The pace and the fire in the piece that flew over almost made a black mark on my knee. To my luck it didn't blast after that. I just sat down in the place, immovable and was holding me knee. The pain was so excruciating like am iron nail was stabbed on my knee. It was very unlikely that she would have heard all these things considering the noise of the birds in the early mornign and her deafness – but not sure.
After few seconds the lady finished filling her bucket and started moving away and she dropped a friendly smile at me on her way
I still don't know if that was an casual & innocent smile or its a you- deserve-it-kid type smile !!