The morning after Diwali, my husband and I set out for our early morning walk, as usual well before sunrise. The moment we stepped out of the house the sight that confronted us was somewhat off putting. We had to wade through bits and pieces of burst crackers--pattas, fatakda or phatake, as they are called in different parts of our nation. The road was completely covered with the debris. If only each house would manage to collect the waste from the crackers that their kids burst, our country too would be a clean place. But, no, we always wait for the sweepers to do the job for us. They are paid for the job and, besides, aren’t we giving them bakshish?

One could still smell the burnt chemicals in the air that was somewhat humid due to clouds. The previous evening had been one of the noisiest of Diwali nights. Raising costs of crackers do not seem to deter people from buying them. They pamper their kids by buying the noisiest of crackers. Young kids get together to burst crackers and I am not sure if there is adult supervision always. The noisier the cracker, the greater is their merriment.

Like everybody else in India, I too love celebrating Diwali. As a child, I used to love the rustle of new clothes, beautifully decorated shops, delicious smell wafting from kitchens, phone calls and visits from the near and dear ones, enthusiasm of kids—aspects that make this festival special. However, even as a child, I used to be upset by noisy crackers. My friends used to call me a scaredy cat. Then I was scared for myself; now I am scared for my family, my neighbourhood, the environment and all the strays around us.

During the walk, I was on the lookout for the usual strays that I meet on my way.

The younger ones were still missing and the older and bolder ones were seen making their way back to their territory.

I don't know where these poor creatures hide to keep away from the deafening noise of

crackers--deafening by human standards, and definitely far worse as far as animals are concerned. To their sensitive ears, the noise must be unbearable. I wonder what pet owners do to keep their pets from suffering any stress from all that noise. May be they try and distract their attention.

There are a lot of articles in the papers about the harmful effects of crackers on the environment. There are TV shows trying to spread awareness of the same.

People just seem to think “the messages are all meant for others, not for me!”

Our morning walk generally includes the parikrama of a large temple, as the four roads outside the temple are relatively clean and traffic-free. The morning after Diwali I found a horse standing still in front of the temple. 

I got the feeling that it had been either abandoned by the owner in front of the temple or perhaps had been left there, as an offering to God on Diwali.

The owner must have entered the temple after leaving the wretched creature outside and must have slunk away through another gate.

The owner must have had his own compulsions, but my heart goes out to the poor creature. Animals need food and shelter--people recognize that. And animals have feelings--but we refuse to recognize that.

For a second, I regretted not having given the child some money. Perhaps he could have got some crackers. On second thoughts, however, I felt that I had done the right thing by refusing him money. Crackers would only have added to the pollution. Moreover, who knows, he might not have been allowed to keep the money and some older ringleader might have grabbed it from him. Worse still, the boy might have spent it on some addictive substance. One reads a lot about the addictions these poor kids have. Some street kids are addicted to sniffing glue I believe. May be it keeps them from feeling pangs of hunger, but it has its harmful effects.

As we returned to our street, a neighbour’s car entered the road. The family was returning after celebrating Diwali with their relatives. The mother carried her tired younger child in, while the older one was heard persuading the parents to buy some more crackers so that he could burst them in the company of his friends here.