the smell of cooum with sulphur and rain smells like sandalwood in my memory when i think of deepavalis (reminds me of ‘the smell of napalm in the morning’ from ‘apocalypse now’). missed chennai. as with every one of the last 10 deepavalis spent out of chennai in the last 10 years, i have always missed the magic. it would always rain in chennai when its deepavali. its some sorta jinx probably. …of trying to find a dry patch to burst your laxmi vedis and atom bombs and flower pots. had a nice time nevertheless with the apartment people bursting some crackers and lighting sparklers, pencils and wires and pretty fireworks trying to claim your space in the bangalore sky. maggie loved everything that would light up but not create too much noise. entertained a lot of guests at home and it was different and nice. what will probably remain in memory is the long walk i took today. skies lit up with fireworks. the fact that everyone is feeling the same makes my heart ebb. probably why i got goosebumps listening to those thousands in the grandstand erupt worse than a soccer crowd as barrichello took the pole in his home circuit of interlagos, sao paulo after more than 2.5 hours of stormy weather. dunno if it makes me a wuss when my eyes well up seeing hundreds of thousands vicariously behind someone bringing their dreams to the scorecard. festivals are so harsh and rude at times in that they are book-markers in memory. why should the swellness of the heart in longing be classified as bad anyway? another swell day lived as a human-being. good night.