It is dusk
a slight drizzle 
 and light breeze 
 mark the day.

Brass  shining diyas ,
take the lead.
Ilupai  oil is poured  
over the thread wick
find their place 

in the most coveted spaces 
of the entrance, window sills,
steps, patio,, Lighting them’
at the stroke of six,

 they flicker for a second,  pick up
 braving the wind and rain,
Collecting the  earthen ones 
in a basket, I walk towards the 
boundary walls,

placing three tens of mud ones
on the parapet walls,  pairs
 of them on the gate pillars,
 a big  lamp in the Tulasi Madam,

My house  looks divine  
Exciting, to watch the  twilight, 
the lamps emitting  steady flow 
alongside  the cool breeze  
which penetrates through the skin

I stand in the rain. It is 
pure ecstasy, blissful
 moving me to tears.
 no  electric illumination
could surpass.