“Tarey Diwali thai gai?” This question greeted me sometime last
week as I was going down in the lift. I scratched my head in bewilderment…then
the hammer of comprehension knocked me between the eyes. Shoot…its THAT time of
the year…. Everyone I know will be working their posterior off to clear out the
mess of the previous year and make their abodes clean and pure to welcome
Goddess Laxmi. How I hate this time! It is so difficult to work against my innate
messy nature to clear out my home and life. I hate to sift through the piles of
stuff hoarded by me and mine. Having to decide to chuck away what we haven’t used
in a while (which happens to be most of it) is very difficult and since I’m
unwilling to pull the plug, I have to rearrange it, or should I say ‘stuff it
back’ again with the promise to wait one more year to decide. Oh God I cannot
do this. I am no Hercules and this Augean stable is not for me to clean.
All year long, there are knicks and there are knacks and
there are brics and there are bracs that have found a place in our heart and
thus our home. Be it a funny stone that my elder daughter picked up at school
or a few sequins and pom poms that my younger one picked up from the navratri
ground…we have a place for them all. I am prone to collecting colourful, plain,
hand made, machine made, textured, smooth, shiny, dull…all kinds of papers that
I see…wedding invitations, colourful advertisements in the newspaper, coloured
pages from magazines…etc. That itself is not so much of a problem, what creates
a lack of space is the cuttings left over from any craft project that I
attempt…I just CANT throw it away…it stays in all its shapeless formless snippety
stringy glory for further explorations of art in the form of collages or if
nothing…then to be made into a pulp for papier mache…and believe me, a year
long worth of this collection is humungous.
So anyways, last week, on being interrogated about my
progress through the mess, I gave a noncommittal shrug and quickly stepped out
of the lift at a floor I had no intention of visiting, and waved good bye to my
tormenting inquisitor. Brooding over it, I thought I should definitely bite the
bullet and attack the mess, if nothing it will set a good example to my kids
and they in turn will not face such an interrogation with dread. Not that my
mom didn’t set a good example. Her home is so spic and span all year round that
I wonder what she does in the week of Diwali cleaning. Neither dust nor mite
dares to step inside her home. Her cupboards and wardrobes are so well
organized, though I haven’t actually caught her at it, I’m sure she uses a
ruler to set things straight. Comparing it to my wardrobe, my wardrobe is a
cascade of love. You open it and my pile of clothes, with an embarrassing public
display of affection, engulf you in their group hug. The only way to escape
this is to open the door partially, pull out what is needed or stuff in what
needs to be in and slam the door shut, all in a fast count of three. Voila! Her
store room is a sight to behold, so organized: a place for everything and
everything in its place, you could get stuff out of it blindfolded. Whereas if an
adult steps into my storeroom, he or she would beg to be blindfolded, a totally different reaction from a kid, who
would pull up his sleeves and have a ball in the mess without making any
difference whatsoever to its condition. If I didn’t look and sound like her I
would be sure that I am a changeling.
Let us come back to the floor where I disembarked. With the flight of stairs paved with good
intentions, I started on my uphill journey back to my floor and each step that
I took weakened my resolve. By the time I reached home, I had decided to
maintain the status quo. I loved my home. I loved my possessions, all of them.
I’m not being selfish. I know that my neighbours clear out their homes and give
the discarded stuff to the needy…I don’t think anyone in this world needs my
collection of trimmings nor would they appreciate the baubles collected by my
magpies. In our little apartment and our big hearts we have made place for
everything we have treasured over the years. Maybe one day I’ll find it in me
to part with it all, and maybe not. I’m happy either ways and I’m no longer
ashamed of it too, infact, I’m proud of it.
Today , after sending away the spiders adorning my ceiling
with their beautiful intricate webs on a short vacation, my family and I are
ready to welcome Goddess Laxmi to our humble abode in all its cluttered glory.
We wish her and you a HAPPY DIWALI.
