For some, the festival of Lights is every day. The dance the dusk does through the veil of Mother Earth’s atmosphere with the numerous reflective surfaces, competitive neon lamps, day-dusted cheeks, hallowed flames and rain. A warm palm grips mine, her eyes lit up with sparks-of-stuff rivaling the sea of stars and all the festivals of light. Red bangles, music on collision and soft circles of time…

But it’s nice to look up and see Deepawali.