Diwali with my Father

Festivals are a joyous occasion, acting as glue in our lives, keeping us attached to our relationships in a way that’s hard to describe. They’re a way we can have a moment of happiness, however short lived, out of our busy, bustling lives.
As a child, like most Indian children, Diwali was my favourite festival. I got to light up firecrackers, which to a child is the most dangerous thing to do, and dangerous things always gladden up kids. But more importantly, I loved Diwali because I got to spend time with my father who was always working. He loved firecrackers too. What I loved most about Diwali with my father was that he let me do things which most people would refer to as a case of bad parenting, even though I would disagree and intend to definitely do the same with my kids.
As a kid, bursting crackers began at least a couple weeks before the main festival. My father used to buy me several boxes of bombs and I took one box each day and would head out to burst them. The first couple years when this tradition in my family began, my dad would accompany me. By I was eight or nine, my father was confident enough to let me go and burst them on my own.
A few years down the line, my father taught me how to hold the bomb using my non dominant hand and light it up using the other and then throw it at the precise moment when it would boom up mid air. However dangerous this seems, every kid tries to do this at some point in time and thus, while people may call this bad parenting, I’d say this is good parenting considering that I would have tried it for the first time without any supervision or experience anyway. It’s better that my father taught me. This one time, we couldn’t find a glass bottle or jar to light up a rocket. So my father suggested we light them up the way we would do with the bombs, and so my father taught me how to light a rocket while holding it in my hand. Of course, doing all this was scary, but it was a little too much fun that the scariness seemed meh.
My father and I may not always get along, and sure, like everyone else, we have arguments too. But, looking back at all these memories I share with my father develop a broad smile on my face and all those silly disagreements we have – seem petty.
Festivals do this to you, they bring joy. They’re the little break you need from your everyday stressful life filled with problems, and for a while, maybe just a little while, you forget everything else and be just plain, simple happy.