As Diwali nears, we recall the ancient light,
A festival of wisdom, good over blight.
Yet slowly it shifts, from pure to profane,
Where smoke clouds the stars, where we worship in vain.
Lord Rama walked, in nature's embrace,
With Jatayu, with Hanuman, with bears he'd face
The darkness. The creatures of land and sky
Stood with him in unity; no fear, no lie.
But here, in our hands, we hold flame and roar—
A million firecrackers claiming the night's floor.
What does it serve, this haze in the air?
When Delhi chokes, when animals stare
In terror, birds lost in a flash of fright,
Is this our tribute to the festival of light?
PM2.5 swells to perilous heights,
Respiratory struggles, asthma's long nights,
Feathered ones flee, and creatures are torn
By chaos, by din, in homes they are worn.
Decorations blaze, brightening the street,
Electricity wasted, in excess we greet
A world warmed further,1.2 degrees climbed,
Earth aches for respect, but we act unkind.
Lord Rama, protector, divine in his grace,
Would he delight in this fevered chase?
In harming creation, do we dare pretend
That this waste of light is what he would defend?
The essence of Diwali calls for respect,
A love, a gentleness, a quiet reflect.
Clay lamps cast warmth, simplicity's glow,
To welcome him purely, with all creatures in tow.
Let's gather in prayer, with family near,
Choosing paths that honor earth's tear.
It's time to protect, to hold and to tend
The planet we borrow, the world we befriend.
So let not the haze taint Diwali's gleam—
May this festival shine as a quiet dream.
For in care and wisdom, we'll find the way
To celebrate life, the true Diwali way.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem