Good morning, and welcome back to First Principles Sunday after Deepavali—a time of sweets, lights, and family!

How did your Deepavali go? Mine was unexpectedly eventful.

I started the day thinking I’d use the Monday holiday to (sigh!) clear my badly clogged inbox. I know, right? Then, quite unexpectedly, I caught myself telling myself, “Come on, Rohin, don’t be such a loser. It’s Deepavali. Enjoy it!”

So, I picked up a bunch of unread books from my desk and went outside to our balcony, where the wonderful early winter sun was casting a soft and warming glow on everything. By the time I got into a chair and decided what book to read, Gabru had also plonked himself in the sun next to me.

Over the next couple of hours, I had my mind blown by incontrovertible arguments, uncompromising rebuttals, and acerbic wit written nearly 90 years ago. I’d read Dr. B.R. Ambedkar’s Annihilation of Caste.

The short book is an undelivered speech on the evils of India’s caste system written by Ambedkar, bookended by letters that explain its origins—the invitation, the discomfort, the revocation—and criticisms (by Mahatma Gandhi) and rebuttals (by Ambedkar himself).

There is enough on the internet about the book, so I won’t attempt to summarise it. But I will say I was both blown away and saddened by the timelessness of Dr. Ambedkar’s arguments and of the reality he describes from 1936.

Then, as the sun became brighter and hotter, Gabru and I moved inside. I switched to Joe Sacco’s comic book, Journalism.

By the evening, it had started to rain, continuing a tradition that’s been going on for years. It always rains on Deepavali day in Bengaluru.

Once the rain stopped and darkness fell, we switched on the numerous LED balcony lights that are now de rigueur and lit terracotta oil diyas with little glass chimneys on them that remind me of mini-Petromax lamps.

This was the start of what I’d like to imagine the scariest period of the year for Gabru, Bribo, and other dogs. As the sound of firecrackers started building up from 7:30 p.m. to their crescendo around 10 p.m., Gabru’s shivering backside was virtually attached to one of us.