Rather, it is one of the several origins of Diwali, since for Jains, the day marks the Nirvana of Bhagwan Mahavir, and this legend is no less meaningful. The lighting of lamps symbolises the seeking of the light of divine knowledge that went out with Mahavir’s passing.

I am writing about Diwali for another reason. A reader sent me a critical comment about a line — ‘Yeh to limited logon ki Diwali hai’ — that appeared in my column last week. It metaphorically described how the current stockmarket boom has further enriched the superrich, while leaving the poor, even small investors, untouched.

“Do you mean to say,” asked the reader, “that the poor do not celebrate Diwali just because the Sensex surge brings no gains to them? The rich-poor divide in India has always existed, but it hasn’t affected ordinary people’s participation in festivals.”

Point taken. It is wrong to equate Diwali with material wealth, or to think that those who have amassed more money have more joy in celebrating the festival. We would be cured of this mistaken notion by a walkthrough in slums during festival time, be it Diwali, Id or Christmas. The gaiety we see there is infectious. Our festivals are primarily about feeling and caring for our near and dear ones, for our neighbours, strangers, and all those living in this big world, our common home.

To know how little money has got to do with the basic spirit of our festivals, read Premchand’s immortal story Idgah. It is the tale of Hamid, a poor little orphan boy living with Ameena, his grandmother. It’s Id, and all the village boys are going to the fair in a nearby town to enjoy. Ameena’s agony is that her savings are too meagre to give her dear grandson a good enough idi, the money that children receive from relatives at festival time. Other boys spend their idi on sweets, toys and amusement games. Four-year-old Hamid’s concern is different. He overcomes all these temptations, saves the three paise his granny has given him to have fun at the fair and instead buys a pair of tongs for her. Why? So that she can make rotis without getting her fingers burnt. Even to remember this Premchand classic chokes me with emotions.

... contd.