Diwali Nostalgia

Diwali used to be a big deal in the family. A once a year occasion for new clothes, endless making of sweets and salties, people in and out in brilliant shiny clothes - it was the season of plenty - plenty enough for all us kids and plenty more for neighbors, friends, relatives, poor and destitute. There was 'baksheesh' for everyone and also sweets.

I grew up and went away from home. I cried every Diwali spent wandering through a mall, catching a movie and fancy candle-lit dinner. I didn't want any of this. What I wanted was the sense of excitement, the color and the dazzle, and sharing - sharing with lots and lots of people. I grew up with a notion that festivals and celebrations were about sharing and the joy this brings.

Today, sharing is done on basis of reciprocity - account keeping of give and take, and balancing of books. It is counted who gave what to whom and what we owe, and how much, to whom. It is an elaborate social charade replacing the community spirit with contracted exchange.

However, I keep a firm distance away from these silly notions. Now, every Diwali, I deck up in saree ( a big deal for me), bottu, jewellery - tuck my pallu around and get down to the business of recreating my own Diwali - the nostalgic Diwali of my childhood. I turn into a veritable halawaii and turn out the same treats for my children! Gulab Jamun, Almond burfee, mohanthal and then fafada, choraphadi, chewdo...special meals for diwali days as written down in my recipe book by my mother, and an extra special meal for the New Year...deepams lit in rows, children in their indian clothes, husband in a silk Kurta - and lots of people all around. I do this happily, to be a child again, and to relive a Diwali from my childhood.