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.
Meenas Poems 