It seems that anybody with an ounce of righteous indignation is bemoaning the effects of fireworks on the air, water and soil, and the pain it causes to life forms such as birds and animals that hide under sofas. While I agree with all of this, I am saddened that people don’t seem to consider the pain it causes to other human beings. Yeah, we are a sucky lifeform, but being one, I believe that our compassion could extend to our own form, however undeserving we may be.
My grandmother (may her soul rest in peace) had a weak heart for the last five years of her life – she survived on a heart that only functioned 14% – a medical marvel, as her cardiologist called her. She would startle at cracker noises and I would worry every Diwali if it would be her last, catalysed by the noise pollution. I am relieved that she won’t startle this year, but that is no consolation. There are many many people out there, for whom every cracker burst would be a bolt from the blue (grey, in fact during diwali times, where is blue?). There are some faint hearted (metaphorically speaking that is) such as me, who want to curl up and cry at noise. Even a loud voice. I pity them (and me).
It would be hypocritical for me to talk about the asthma that is going to attack people with all the airborne chemicals, because I have played my part in disseminating the chemicals myself, in the past years. What can I say, but sorry? I am a schmuck too. I hope I can be less of a schmuck this year. Or perhaps none of it.
And food. People – why do we eat so much during festival times? Why?
Now that I have vented my righteous indignation, I am absolved of all responsibilities of making Diwali actually enjoyable. Did I mention that I am a schmuck?