Column

The firecracker industry in Sivakasi was set up several years back (at least after Lord Rama returned to Ayodhya). I put that obvious qualification parenthetically because many folks today seem to think that Diwali is not Diwali unless eardrums are shattered, the nation besmirched by smoke, its streets swarmed by the debris-showy enthusiasm.

In fact, some folks go a step farther and suggest that Diwali has always been so. Others invoke babudom’s classic fait accompli - since the ‘festival of lights’ has always been a celebration of asphyxiating smog, let us not even think of changing the tradition.

Ah! The ‘tradition’ argument, the obscurantist’s favourite device.

The obscurantists wanted to dehumanise widows and consign them to eternal misery. They wanted women to obliterate themselves when their husbands died because some hazy edict had apparently perpetuated that cruelty.
But they lost on both counts because of the triumph of the enlightened mind and that of human rights and feminist movements. That last two, of course, operate with many overlapping ideals.

I received a text message today which exemplified the true spirit of Diwali. “The festival commemorates the return of a son and a brother. In other words, it honours the sacredness of family.”

Isn’t that wonderful? For true believers, Diwali is the occasion to savour the unrivalled beauty of mantras - in Kerala, the glorious story of Lord Rama resonates in Malayalam. So it is not just about Sanskrit. True believers also go great distances to meet their relations and friends whom they have not met in months. So the festival brings friends, brothers, nieces, grandchildren, and moms- and pops-in-law - and countless other humans bound by countless kinship types - together in solemn appreciation of a great tradition.

The ‘tradition’ again! Which brings me to the first argument of my case in this column. I do not know when the tradition to orchestrate polluting bangs was first installed, or indeed by whom. But I do know that the cultural agenda for the future will be defined by environmental concerns. Apart from a thrust against pollutants, campaigners would have helped the government impose tight decibel-cut laws.

We already have civic rules governing the use of loudspeakers in many parts of the country. Progressive governance makes no exception for bigoted sense of tradition.

One day, thanks to green laws, all celebrations will rediscover the true spiritual meaning of festivals - the only sound you will hear then will be that of affirming piety and human joy. It’ll take time, though. I will leave you with these lines:
O WHAT can ail thee, knight-at-arms,
Alone and palely loitering?
The sedge has wither’d from the lake,
And no birds sing.

It is from La Belle Dame Sans Merci by John Keats. The last two lines gave Rachel Carson the title for Silent Spring, which is widely acknowledged to have forced the West to take environment seriously. The book was written in 1962. It took time then to change minds and policy. And it is only a matter of time.

Email: raghu@dnaindia.net