Festival Memories & The Divine Gift

It takes just one festival to flood you with precious memories, to bring back the image of a seven-year-old visit to a shopping store. Festivals are the strongest triggers.

It was way back in 2017 when we went Diwali shopping at a nearby mall. While sifting and winnowing through the outfits hanging there—after many tsk-tsk moments—something caught his eye. My husband quickly chose a yellow-and-blue floral kurti and, without a second thought, asked me to pick it.

As luck would have it, the generous L size was conspicuously absent. I tried to fit myself into the modest medium size, but the seam line didn’t flinch to accommodate me. With a twinge of disappointment, I randomly picked another suit. Sometimes, luck runs out just when you need it the most. Yet, the yellow kurti stayed in my mind. Since then, I’ve always tried to find a similar pattern but never succeeded, eventually relinquishing hope of ever finding the same design.

This Diwali, too, we went on a shopping binge and embarked on a spree at the same store. After spending good, odd hours poring over dresses, we picked a few festive outfits. Weaving through the maze of people and steering carts, we reached the long queue at the billing counter, where the salesman was scanning the eye-popping price tags.

And then—whoa!—I could hardly believe myself. While standing and waiting for my son to finish billing, I spotted a ditto blue-and-yellow kurti on a nearby stand—the exact one my soulmate had chosen seven years ago!

I almost screamed at the top of my voice and asked my son to hold for a moment and add this too for billing. He grinned sheepishly, watching me cup the yellow-and-blue kurti in my palms as though it were a long-lost treasure.

Fighting my way back through the thronging crowd to reach my son, my face broke into an ecstatic smile. It was difficult to control my overwrought emotions, and tears of joy started moistening my eyes.

A bespoke festive dress, curated by destiny itself.

Celebrating festivals without your loved ones is akin to fighting a silent battle—surviving another day without them. Feeling low and blue, the divine gift snapped me out of it. I left the sprawling store as happy as a clam.

I could never push the dress out of my mind till date, and the hunt was finally over this Diwali. Call it coincidence or serendipity, this gift remains an uncanny, divine one.