Let the truth bombs explode

So Dusshera has come and gone, and we're now gearing up for the annual ODI (On Diwali, Inevitably) clash between the pataka party and the antipollution brigade. RWAs and schools are printing circulars begging people to keep it clean, while environmentalists and animal lovers strategise hectically to protect the air, the trees and all creatures great and small, even as right-wingers get busy cooking up their annual toxic rasedaar aaloo-tamatar stew of religious fervour, performative patriotism, brutal bullying and vulgar displays of wealth.

- ANUJA CHAUHAN

When we were children, we made a rangoli at the front door on Diwali, wore new clothes, sucked white batasha (moulded sugar) animal figurines, performed an OJJ (Om Jai Jagdish Hare) arti at home, burnt a modest cache of fireworks and played teen patti late into the night using dry fruits as currency. It was a simple yet perfect celebration, and the only thing I would want to add from the post-1990 universe into that classic mix would be Ed Sheeran's mid-2025 desi-collab banger, with lyrics and a beat that is perfect for Diwali: