“Onion Bombs: A Tearful Tale of Diwali Drama”
Diwali night, the sky adorned with shimmering lights, and kids like me running around with a sense of adventure that only the festival of lights could bring. But amidst all the joy, there was one thing that struck fear into my little heart – the notorious ‘Onion Bombs.’
These little devils were nothing like the savory snacks you might imagine. No, these were tiny explosive packages, masquerading as innocent, round objects. My father had asked me to fetch a few, and with trembling hands, I did just that.
As I carried them, my little hands not quite able to keep them steady, disaster struck. Two or three of these fiery orbs tumbled to the ground and, just like that, ‘Boom!’ I let out a shriek that could have woken the neighbors.
My friends, watching from a safe distance, doubled over with laughter. There I was, caught in a chaotic symphony of sparks and noise, convinced that the onion bombs were out to get me.
In retrospect, it’s one of those memories that has us all in stitches now. Diwali is not just a festival of lights; it’s a festival of unexpected surprises and sometimes, well, tears – the oniony kind!
Then, there were the “Homegrown Pyrotechnicians,” also known as our dear grandparents and parents. These seasoned experts in the fine art of bomb creation were like wizards, mixing chemicals with the precision of a chemist and the courage of a daredevil.
But hold your horses before you rush off to watch a YouTube tutorial and attempt to become the next chemistry genius. It’s not as simple as it seems. Watching something virtually and actually doing it are two different ball games.
You see, dear reader, we had the chemists at home – our beloved grandparents and parents – who had honed their skills over years, creating bombs that could light up the night. They were like the Dumbledore of Diwali mischief and we, well, we were mere apprentices.
So, my dear friends, while the allure of YouTube may be strong, remember that not everything can be mastered through a screen. Making onion bombs is like a secret family recipe, passed down through the generations, not something you learn from a 5-minute video.
And here’s the big red warning sign: these experiments can go wrong, terribly wrong. The chemicals involved can be hazardous, and the consequences of a mishap are not something you’d want to experience.
So, unless you’re ready to earn your Ph.D. in Diwali Chemistry from the University of Grandparents and Parents, I’d suggest leaving the onion bombs to the experts. After all, Diwali is meant for celebration, not for setting off a chemistry experiment gone awry.
In the grand scheme of things, a few laughs and some shared memories are worth much more than a DIY chemistry set. Stick to the professionals, like our dear grandparents and parents and enjoy the magic of Diwali without the explosive surprises!
The Joy of Gift-Grabbing Adventures
Ah, the grand Diwali gift exchange with our beloved grandparents! It was like an episode of a kids’ shopping spree show and we were the stars. The build-up was intense, with every passing day leading to the grand finale of gift-getting glory.
The moment they handed us those crisp notes, it was as if they bestowed us with the power of a young business tycoon. We would clutch the money, grinning from ear to ear and if it could talk, it would say, “Spend me wisely, young one!”
Off we went to the nearest shop, ready to conquer the aisles with the enthusiasm of a treasure hunter. The world was our oyster or should I say, the store was our candy shop. Candy, clothes, crackers or perhaps —the choices were endless and so were our fantasies.
But let’s not forget the tricky part—making that money stretch. We’d stare at the price tags, calculating if we could afford both the action figure and the chocolate bar. It was our very own version of “Diwali: Budget Edition.”
As we made our selections, we couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. We were mini shoppers and we had cracked the code of Diwali gifting. But it wasn’t about what we bought; it was about the love that flowed with every rupee. Our grandparents knew that allowing us to choose our own gifts was like giving us a slice of independence pie (cherry-flavored, of course).
So, here’s to those epic Diwali shopping sprees with our grandparents, where every rupee felt like a ticket to a magical wonderland and the laughter and joy were the real treasures. Ah, the good old days of Diwali gift-grabbing glory!
The “Phuljhari” Mystery:
The innocent-looking “phuljhari” – the sparkler. It promised a lot but delivered little in terms of noise. But that didn’t stop us from hoarding them. We’d gather in a circle, waving our phuljharis with an air of sophistication, creating intricate patterns of light, pretending to be the diya experts of the family.
The Midnight Oil and Rangoli:
As the elders got busy with the puja, we became night owls. Armed with colored powders, we’d attempt to create rangoli designs that rivaled art exhibits. Of course, our masterpieces were more abstract than planned, but we’d take immense pride in our rangoli efforts nonetheless.
Cracker Negotiations and Alliances:
When it came to bursting crackers, diplomacy was key. We’d strike deals with our friends – “You give me one ‘chakri’ and I’ll trade you a ‘flowerpot.'” These negotiations could rival international treaties in complexity.
A Tale of Grandparents, Sweets and Mischief
Ah, the sweet symphony of Diwali! The anticipation was almost too much to bear, especially for us kids. As the festival drew near, our sweet tooth became an unrelenting drumbeat in the background of our lives.
The moment of truth would arrive as the doorbell chimed, heralding the arrival of sweet boxes from relatives and neighbors. Each box, a veritable treasure chest filled with mithai delights, was like a Pandora’s box of sugar-induced joy.
As a child, you couldn’t contain your excitement, so you’d hover around your parents, who were tasked with the solemn duty of opening these boxes. Your grandparents, the sages of sweetness, were often lurking in the background, a twinkle in their eyes, like sugar connoisseurs at a royal feast.
Then it happened. “Beta, get me some too!” your grandparents would exclaim, their voices teeming with sweet anticipation. They knew the drill, you see. They’d been through this sweet charade before. Your mother, however, would play the role of the sugar police, warning them about the looming specter of diabetes.
But here’s where the mischievous fun began. You, the young diplomat in the making, had already worked out a secret treaty with your heart of gold. As you quietly swiped a box of sweets, you’d shoot a reassuring glance to your grandparents. It was as if you were saying, “Worry not, dear elders, for I shall be your sweet savior!”
Your grandparents, those merry co-conspirators, would respond with a silent nod and a wink, their excitement brewing like a volcano ready to erupt with sugary delight.
It was a silent but sweetly satisfying pact. As the grown-ups discussed the perils of sugar and diabetes, you would sneakily squirrel away the sweet boxes, ready to deliver your sugary contraband to your eager grandparents. The sense of camaraderie in these covert operations was unparalleled, and the joy of satisfying your grandparents’ sweet cravings, simply priceless.
Diwali was not just about lights and fireworks; it was a celebration of these sweet family moments, filled with laughter, love, and perhaps just a tad too much sugar. So, as you embrace the festivities this year, remember the sweet conspiracies that made Diwali all the more special.
The Unending Festival of Fireworks and Friendship:
Diwali, the festival that never wanted to end. As the sun dipped below the horizon, the night sky became a canvas painted with vibrant colors, courtesy of rockets, star bombs, and an unending symphony of crackers. The air was filled with sounds of ladis crackling, the glow of TVs broadcasting Diwali programs, the aroma of mouth-watering delicacies, and the heartwarming presence of cousins and relatives.
Laughter echoed through the house and the joyous vibes of Lakshmi Puja still lingered long after the last diya had been lit. It was a night where time itself seemed to stand still, wrapped in the magic of Diwali.
Then came the dreaded morning, the day school beckoned with its stern reality. But, if you were lucky enough to have friends in the same apartment or locality, you’d huddle together, dreams of skipping school dancing in your heads. The idea was simple – spend one more glorious night relishing the remnants of Diwali.
However, persuading the parental committee to grant a Diwali extension was no small feat. So, you and your buddies concocted a brilliant plan. You’d swap roles – your friend would champion your cause with your parents and you’d do the same for them. As you both presented your persuasive arguments, the parents couldn’t resist and a unanimous ‘yes’ was music to your ears.
Shouts of joy filled the air, and that evening, once again, you reveled in the echoes of crackers and the company of friends. The remaining fireworks lit up the night and your final challenge was the snake bombs. Their peculiar sound as they ignited, leaving distinctive marks on the stairs of your apartment, became the canvas for a new competition. You and your friends would eagerly compare and compete, each trying to create the longest snake, turning the post-Diwali fun into a spirited contest.
There, in the glow of friendship and the sparkles of remaining crackers, you bid a final farewell to the festival, already counting down the days until the next Diwali extravaganza.
Author,
Sivalenka Neeraja
