The Last Diwali

People were happy. Inflation had reduced, the economy was growing and corruption was declining, the poor had food in their bellies. This Diwali, people were happy.

The bully neighbour had realised the potential and had wisely extended the olive branch. While the nasty sibling was awed and subdued by the rise of the gentle giant. The bird was finally reforging the golden armour of its proud history.

It had been too long, since such a great Diwali had been celebrated. Lamps were lit and sweets were distributed. Crackers were loud and Rangolis colourful. But, the loudest boom was yet to come, the crimson hue was yet to spread.

Men planned and fate laughed!

The sibling still had a nasty trick up its sleeve. A trick so profane, that it would stun the world into silent screams. And it would be the last trick because annihilation was absolute. Predestined!

Rockets were fired and their sparkles lit the sky like a thousand emerald rainbows. A handful of objects appeared over the western horizon. They seemed like a flock of gulls, only they were shaped like arrows. Nobody noticed, that their flight was higher and their blaze hotter. A few did notice them, but they were eyes were glazed by the brightness of Diwali.

And, suddenly, the sky became bathed in the luminescence of a thousand tangerine suns. There was a moment of silence, nature holding its breath. A rush of air was followed by a cacophony of sounds like stone-giants brawling, like mountains being torn, like the trumpets of dying elephants. Fire rained from the above and smoke rose from the below, mingling in a strange mural which very much looked like a banyan tree reaching for the heavens.

As if from nowhere, a quiver full of arrows materialized in the sky. Their bright streaks looking like strokes of brush on the dark palette of the sky and their smoky manes proud as if in defiance of the apocalypse below. Only, they were headed in the opposite direction. The same events were repeated, like a synchronized opera playing gustily for the last act of the evening. Like juvenile gods staging a mock Diwali battle.

The lights twinkled prettily, a bokeh effect hard to ignore............................

But the world was too frightened to witness and the brothers were asleep in grim embrace their rivalry no more.