The Quest For 'Dil-wali' Diwali!

 

The house has been cleaned to the best possible extent.

The lights to be strung outside the house are ready.

New clothes have been purchased. The firecrackers are all set to light up the festival of lights.

Oh, I forget… Diwali-special snacks are in the making.

Rangoli will follow soon.

It seems I have checked most of the requirements for Diwali.

For me, this is a very special festival. Right from my childhood, I have been fascinated with Diwali and the glimmer and glitter it brings in its wake. The lights, the snacks, the firecrackers – they create such an aura of celebration that it is difficult to not to soak in the joy spreading around you.

For some reason, it feels like Diwali celebration was grander during my childhood.

To start with, we used to get a vacation from school – a vacation of three weeks. If nothing else, this itself made the festival special. We would come home from school on the last working day, brimming with excitement about the holidays.

It would be another typical afternoon of playing and suddenly a breeze would waft, bringing along with it, the aroma of besan being roasted in many homes. As if by a silent mutual understanding, most of my neighbors would choose the same day to prepare besan laddoo. The aroma of roasted besan was a harbinger that Diwali wasn’t far. My friends and I would laugh with giddy excitement.

Soon the afternoons would intoxicate us with aromas of more snacks being prepared – chakli, chivda, shankarpaala, karanji, rava ladoo, south-indian mixture – these snacks are an unforgettable part of my childhood.

Shopping used to be a big deal then. We used to shop only during special occasions such as birthdays, Diwali and functions in the home. The joy of purchasing new clothes for the whole household for Diwali cannot be described in words. Those were the rare occasions when we, as a family, would set off to the market that would be bursting with festive paraphernalia. Bright lights adorning shops, vendors on the street calling out for Rangoli powder and diyas, tea-and-snack stalls enjoying the brief and precious ebb in the business – what a glorious time it was.

The standard of living wasn’t very high then, but you could buy a lot for a reasonable amount. You could buy new clothes for the whole family, have dinner in a hotel and that would still not burn a hole in your pocket. What is it about today? You visit a mall just for leisure and before you know it, you have spent 2k-3k without realizing where the amount went. Also, how little you get today for such amounts! May be one dress? A pair of trousers/jeans? It sometimes saddens me that the standard of income has risen today, the costs have risen as well but the happiness factor? It has decreased alarmingly.

What’s with the numerous sales and offers of products that we already have and do not need?! Mobiles, clothes grand enough to be worn at galas, furniture – why, whole homes are being advised to be bought, just because it is Diwali! How did it come to this that Diwali, instead of being a festival of sharing in celebration, became all about spending our hard-earned money on things we could probably do without!?

Just today my friend and I were talking about the way we used to celebrate Diwali in our childhood. We would wake up early, as early as 4. Already there would be the noise of firecrackers bursting around. It was mandatory for the eldest person in the family to apply oil on the hair for the youngsters before sending them off to bath. New clothes would be put on, we would visit the temple in our town, sometimes the whole family together, other times people leaving in batches and as we grew up, going with friends to the temple. There was the mandatory oohing-aahing over the new dresses we would be wearing. There were no mobiles and thereby no cameras, and hence, no records of all the beautiful dresses we wore and all the amazing times we had both with family and friends.

By default, most of my friends ended up at my home for a yummy breakfast of Idli chutney. Then we would hang out at each other’s homes, planning about the Rangolis to be drawn. It used to be a big deal! Who will draw which pattern, what color should we use, which other color completed the selected one – the number of hours we would spend on this discussion!

Oh, I forgot to mention the highlight of the day – exchange of sweets and delicacies. My mother would keep plates piled up with Diwali-special snacks to be delivered to each neighbor’s home on the floor. I, my sister and my cousin would gleefully accept the task because of the reward. The plate was never returned empty! Since most of my neighbors were Maharashtrian, we got to taste their delectable delicacies. Karanji was and still is my favorite. The most important part? There was whole-hearted and generous sharing. As full the plates, thus full our hearts!

I try to recreate the magic of this festival at my home in Hyderabad. But compared to the memories of celebrating this in Dombivli where I spent three decades of my life, the celebration leaves a lot to be desired. I know it’s unfair to compare. The times are changing. People are adapting themselves to the change. Why, just today I read in the newspaper that trains and buses are running to packed capacity as people from the city rush to their homes to celebrate Diwali with their loved ones. It warms me, this gesture that shows that no matter how drastically times may change, how greatly the standard of living may be impacted, Diwali will always be the festival of bonding.

Dil-wali Diwali probably froze in our childhoods, standing still as a reminder of good and simple times of life. While it is important to move along with times, a nostalgic visit to this frozen place is necessary, to remind us that ‘more’ doesn’t necessarily mean better, and ‘glamorous’ doesn’t always have to come at great costs. The quest for Dil-wali Diwali will always materialize in every festive season, and probably someday, we will go back to simpler times and enjoy the festival the way it is meant to.