The festival of lights leaves darkness behind – piles of waste, regret of things undone, unfulfilled wishes, comparison with celebrations in better times. It is an exercise in meaninglessness. She wonders about the fakeness of pretty masks, and hollowness concealed by colourful decorations.
“It is all because you don’t absorb positive things. They just bounce off the surface.” Her partner opines.
But hadn’t he been finding fault with her for ages? A festival does not change anything, just conjures unrealistic images of happiness.
She walks through streets to see decorative lights being taken off. A bunch of enthusiastic kids are making the most with last of their firecrackers. She thinks about the ashes – a life that could have been, before walking into the drugstore to buy antacid. Festive meals are not good for their health any more.
This is the barrenness of harvest or pestilence.