This Diwali ✨ - Away from family

It's Diwali, and I'm sitting alone in my office in Bangalore. The sound of fireworks outside makes me feel both happy and sad. Happy because it reminds me of home, but sad because I'm not there. It's been two long years since I've visited my village near Bhopal. As I work, my mind wanders to our last Diwali celebration at home. I can almost see the whole village gathered in the center, laughing and talking. We'd set up a big white sheet as a screen and watched a movie together. Then, we'd light diyas and burst crackers. The joy on everyone's faces, the smell of sweets in the air - it was magical. Here in Bangalore, the celebrations are bigger and fancier, but they don't have the warmth of my village. Growing up wasn't easy for us. After my father passed away when I was young, money was always tight. But somehow, during festivals, none of that mattered. We'd all come together and share what little we had. Now, as I look at my computer screen, I wonder what I'm missing back home. Is mom making her special laddoos? Are my younger siblings running around with sparklers? But then I smile, thinking about the smartphone I bought for mom last month. It cost ₹15,000 - a big amount for us, but worth every rupee. Mom was so excited when she got it. At first, she was afraid to touch it, worried she might break it. But now, she's become quite the pro! She calls me every day, her voice full of pride as she tells me about the new thing she's learned. "Beta, I sent you a good morning message with flowers!" she'll say, or "I saw the photo you posted of your office. It looks so big!" Her excitement over these small things fills my heart with joy. It's like a piece of home reaches me through that phone every day. Thinking about mom makes me miss her even more. I miss the smell of her freshly made rotis, the way she'd fuss over me to eat more, her gentle scolding when I'd stay up too late. But I know why I'm here, working on a festival night. PS: My mom sent me this photo