I wish they would not burst loud crackers so early in the day. The whole night is laid out for them to light up and blow up. Fireworks and flares.
Its hard to sleep over such noise. And both of them were at it again, adding to the din.
I thought the bangs and shots would drown out their raging voices, and I would in turn use my pillow as a cushioned earplug.
I could still hear them.
"You find faults with everything. It was a mistake. Would you let it go..??", she said or rather screamed.
"Yes, all mistakes. These mistakes will kill me. Yes, kill me. Spare me such mistakes", he roared back.
The bedlam of bursting crackers was beginning to affect me, badly. I was readying myself for an outburst from that talkative woman admonishing him for saying such negative things on an auspicious day as this, Diwali. But the shot that rang through sounded too close for comfort. And it echoed, almost silencing the incessant explosions outside.
One would never think she was the kind of woman who would have done something like this.
I never knew if my mother replied back before shooting my father dead.
It was a quiet Diwali.