I stride along the thoroughfare on a Diwali dusk,
My hair dancing to the tune of the Autumn zephyr.
The otherwise drab world has smothered itself with a veil of luminescence.
I sense a strange ataraxy in my chaotic frame of mind,
A minuscule flicker in a gloomy crevasse.
The sky is a hazy moonless one, yet it shimmers.
Diwali is a distant beloved that calls on me once a year,
One that pulls me out of the gloomy crevasse.