Let’s call this Dipawalee special. I prefer Dipawalee to Diwalee, because it’s a longer word, and since I have lots of free time, I need a longer word to help me kill time. See how cunning I am? I added an extra ‘e’ to Dipawalee, I could have easily shortened it to Dipawali, with an ‘i’. (People are advised not to try these linguistic stunts at home, this writer is a trained professional, who has an unblemished record of crossing his t’s and dotting his i’s for years).

Okay, please simmer down, I do get your point. Everyone and their mother, puts up a Dipawalee special, during this festive season. In fact, there are only two options available not to fall in this trap. The first is to cancel the Dipawalee special altogether, but that would mean I have even more free time. The second is to do a Dipawalee special during another season, say like Christmas. Somehow though I feel that may not go down too well.

Unbeknownst to you, I have found a third option. But, I am a little reluctant to share this with everyone.

I write, as you all know, for a very mature audience. That’s small minority of Indians who are sophisticated and intellectual, and mostly vegetarian. So, please first swear an oath that this third option does not go out into the public domain. The world is yet not ready.

I will signal you time and place, when this option becomes viable. (The writer is working on many different signals using only his fingers and toes, which he hopes will be used by his groups of sophisticated intellectuals in their daily communication at some later date).

Oh, and before presenting this third option, I need to give everyone some background. I live in a suburb of Mumbai City, known as Malabar Hill. This is where the poor live. Around me is India’s most disadvantaged, and marginalised minority, the Indian politician.

The third option is shortened to C.C.D. Its stands for the Constructive Criticism of Dipawalee. This process is restricted to the far-flung suburb of Malabar Hill for now. Everybody knows that Dipawalee is an excellent festival. Its immensely popular, especially, amongst foreign tourists. This is because its one of the few festivals in India, where alcohol is not banned.

Now, let’s look at the elephant in the diya, so to speak. Again, let me remind the more volatile, this C.C.D. is confined and restricted to, (please repeat with me), Malabar Hill. There are three areas of concern. Actually, make that four.

1. Noisy crackers going off way after 10pm. 2. Too much indulgence in mithai, which is making Malabar Hill, the diabetes capital of India. 3. Gambling. In this zone, people gamble with everything. Money, they do not have, and relative they would rather not have.

But the worst offender is No. 4. You know that disadvantaged marginalised minority we chatted about? Well, they use the entire area as a collective darbar, to hold everything from visitations, to festivities, to meet and greet. Their vehicles are parked in an unruly manner across the length and breath of the roads. Their millions of guests wander around causing traffic and severe migraines.

This is a heartfelt plea to the divine for guidance and intervention, save Malabar Hill, before we lose our Malabar, and are, just another silly hill. “Happy Dipawaleee’ to all other areas of Hindustan. (Yes, you are right, I added one more ‘e’). 

The writer has dedicated his life to communism. Though only on weekends.