The Rangoli of Life

The wick of the diyas drenched in ghee,
Cast a wondrous light, of hope and glee.
The kitchen stirred with busied steps
Lest the fear of any sudden mishaps.
And soon enough, our home became full
Of sweet, familiar aromas — puris and gulab-jamboos!
Of laughter and chatter, the hallways filled,
Of Diwali celebrations, the children so thrilled!

On each of the doorways we excitedly hung,
Torans — traditional decorative pieces — nicely strung.
Each room was tidied, from top to bottom,
To welcome the New Year, to full blossom.

On the bare tiled floor, we all take a seat,
With rangoli colors as bright as beets.
We outline a peacock with the colored sand,
Ever so unhurried, with steady hands.
Blues, Yellows, Reds, and Green,
With each careful stroke, my children beam!

“How beautiful each of the colors are…”
As I begin to tell them the tales of my heart:
“Vibrant and unique, each, in their own way,
Stories only each of them can convey!
But, the rangoli only comes together,
When all the colors work in good measure.
Similar are we, in life, each one of us is special-
Of background, language, and circumstance differential.
But the earth and our world is only made better
When we all come to respect and love one another.”

“But how can we make that happen?” I asked.
“Value, compassion, and understanding,” I unpacked.
“It begins, where it always must- with us, inside.
So, see and do good always- with body and mind.”
Act with kindness and grace in all you do
Then you’ll shine, brightly, forever anew.”

That night, was quite special- we made our first rangoli together,
A tradition my family and I will cherish forever.