Passing the parcel.

"Buzzzz''...yet another dream remained incomplete.
"30 messages from 20 chats" my WhatsApp notification read.

It's Diwali. Another day when people from school, college, office, hometown and neighborhood will take time out of their busy schedule and wish everyone a happy day. Such a beautiful day to celebrate.

A day remarking the triumph of good over evil. A day full of sweets and lights... everything glossy and bright. A day I have loved since childhood as it also meant we will get 10s of sweet boxes to open and choose as to which one to use for participating in "passing the parcel" game. It has been a fun-filled day ever since as we used to gather at my grandmother's place and laugh endlessly recalling our childhood memories. It "used to be" a day I certainly looked forward to.

A lot has changed over the years. And this change is reflected in all aspects of life including the celebrations of these festivals. Now "passing the parcel" has become the primary motive of the day. And the parcel essentially includes "forwards". Forward messages, gifts, sweets, wishes. The day begins with people wishing everyone on their friendlist and ends  with thanking the ones  who wished them. In the midst of all these  hustle and bustle the essence of festival remains lost somewhere.

I really look forward to the personal touch in the messages I receive and the wishes I get. I look forward to that one message asking how the day ended.  But not all has changed for the ease  as those 30 messages include one message saying "Eat all before you die. Happy Diwali."