At the end of October or start of November, as Moon decides, Diwali is celebrated in India. The biggest and most important Hindu festival. Something between Christmas, New Years Eve and Apocalypse Now. Lights everywhere, chains of flashing coloured bulbs, signs „Happy Diwali“ on the display windows of shops. Discounts on everything and shopping hordes: buying something new to wear on Diwali brings good luck. Just after it gets dark the pyrotechnical inferno gets unleashed. And it lasts till wee hours of the morning. On firecracker after another, fireworks flying into sky that just peter out and do not explode in the end, children running around with sticks spilling fire. Of course prayer and sacrifice before that all and than exchanging of sweets, colourful saris and drunken Indians.
But turn the wrong corner and you are in Mogadisho at midnight, festive mood is gone. Crumbling buildings, scorched wreck of a car by the road, crumbles, smoke, explosions all around, flak in the distance and fire in barrels. But nobody tries to kill you, everybody smiles and wishes you „Happy Diwali“.
In my neighborhood three families managed to lite up theirs whole stash of fireworks at once – accidentally dropped match I suppose. It sounds like an explosion of an ammunition dump (and in fact that is precisely what it is ;).
Peace: I was interviews for Indian TV in front of flashing shopping centre ;)
Few pictures
