Lohri

As the flames 

leapt skywards

a fountain of 

warm orange 

brought colour 

to our cheeks 

and thawed our 

icy limbs 

on this cold 

wintry night 

and as the shells 

of peanuts and 

the sesame of 

gajjak - rewadis 

crackled to 

celebrate the 

coming of 

joyous harvest 

season as the sun 

geared northwards

bequeathing on us a 

veritable cornucopia 

of burnished wheat,

juicy sugarcane and 

golden yellow mustard,

we sang the

folk ditties and asked 

our neighbours and

elders for tasty treats

and in the mellow 

comfort of a 

sacred bonfire 

danced to the 

rhythmic beats of the

traditional dholkis. 

And, as the night

deepened into 

a darker hue 

and the red embers 

of the bonfire 

glowed like 

after-thoughts, 

we reluctantly went 

to our beds after

glassfuls of jaggeried

turmeric milk, 

dreaming of next day’s 

kite flying on our roofs

and the breakfast of 

savoury khichdi 

and the Batís baked 

in the leftover 

cinders of the fire 

the night before.