A Song of Light and Dark

 

My prize winning entry #FallWritingFrenzy 2020 

My silk pavadai, new this Diwali rustles as I rush to find mom. Jingling bangles add their song to festive Nadaswaram tunes. There she is, in gold jhumkas and an exquisite rust-colored Kanchipuram. So beautiful today. She has been a happy whirl of busyness this week. The rich smell of ghee thick in the air as she whips up delicious murrukkus and Mysore-paks. She’s not the mom who struggles out of bed at 9am and ends her day still in PJs.

Her spirits follow the seasons, sunny in summer, dropping with the fall leaves, leaving a homesick anxiety as winter shrouds Seattle. All thoughts then are of another home. When I ask if I need a jacket for school, she crimps her eyes , converting Fahrenheit to Celsius. At my smile, she sighs, “You don’t understand feeling divided, with your life of blessed simplicity. My memories of warmth are in Celsius. My past has no present, my present has no past.”

But today, an easy smile plays on her lips, at memories I am not a part of. I don’t mind. The diyas she lights chase away her gloom. Today she is whole. Diwali is her festival of inner light.