FESTIVAL

It is that time
of the year again
its raining opulence
stinking affluence


the markets 
doing brisk business
homes and people
putting up new make-up
to cover 
last year's scars.


the toxic mithai
and the anti-crackers campaign
coexisting
in the rants and raves
section of the
supermarkets erstwhile
known as a festival


a capricious thorn
of guilt making
some uneasy
while others 
taking the placebo
of overlooking
the obvious disparity
of happiness.


The old lady deepavali
envies the Belgian chocolates
and the designer candles
the young diwali 
too drunk for comprehending
the beauty of an earthen lamp
or homemade burfi
clearly in a hangover.


the lights will be beautiful
but will the happiness
be unplagiarized ?