diwali
Diwali has always been about celebration for me. Yes, religion is involved, but not in any way that makes me feel beholden to it. We light our diyas and candles to guide the goddess Lakshmi to our homes, so she may bless us with health and prosperity in the coming year. We celebrate with family and friends over food and sweets (and with firecrackers, depending on the location). It’s a time for joy and community, and to look forward to the coming year with hope and optimism.
When I was young, Diwali was a reason to get dressed up in our rarely used Indian clothes, sometimes on a school night. Hinduism, like many other religions, follows a lunar calendar, meaning that Diwali falls on a different day every year, sometime between early October and mid-November. Our family friends would have big parties on the weekends before and after Diwali, but there was also a small celebration on the night itself regardless of weekday or weekend. My sister and I were tasked with turning the concrete in front of the fireplace into an altar, decorating it with colored chalk in bright patterns. Small statues of Lakshmi and other gods were interspersed with diyas, and a small plate of sweets would sit on the altar as well, to be eaten after we prayed. We would have our ceremony at home, and then rush through the house to ensure each and every room was well-lit before departing for dinner (or preparing for guests, if we were hosting). We got to stay up late, to bundle up and light the sparklers smuggled over the New Hampshire border in the driveway, to eat too much mithai. All the Diwalis of my childhood blur together in my memory now.
After I left for college, I couldn’t always make it home for Diwali. I would go out for Indian food with friends (Indian or not) as my little way of honoring the holiday. My first year out of college, I managed to be in India for Diwali - my first time celebrating it there. My uncle, who had not had children around for Diwali in years, went out and bought one of every kind of firecracker available from the store nearby. In India, there are (seemingly) no rules about selling firecrackers, and on Diwali, they are set off until 3 or 4 in the morning, if not all night. We went up to the roof of my aunt and uncle’s apartment complex and set them all off, one at a time. I was too scared to get close enough to light half of them - if you didn’t hop back fast enough, you could easily burn a finger. My sparkler years hadn’t prepared me for this. My uncle enjoyed it thoroughly and was far more daring than me, which it made it all the more fun.
Diwali in India is completely different from the Diwalis of my childhood. There are celebrations for weeks before before the actual day, in the time known as Navatri. There are plays depicting scenes from the Hindu epic that Diwali stems from, the Ramayana. Everyone is rushing to get new outfits made for big parties. Sweet shops have lines out the door, as mithai is a traditional gift to exchange with friends. There is an urgency to have everything ready in time. I could feel the Diwali season in the air, the way I had never experienced it in the U.S.
It took me time to form my own traditions. In 2016, I hosted Diwali dinner at my own home for the first time ever. It was a small group of friends who came, and I decided (somewhat foolishly) that I would cook. I say foolishly because before then, I had hardly cooked any Indian food myself. It had never really occurred to me that I should learn. As a child, I had observed my mother cooking, but everything she made always seemed to be enough to feed us, a family of four, for at least two or three days. Since I lived alone, it had never made sense to try and replicate that. Yet here I was, trying to feed my friends. From what I remember about that dinner, the food wasn’t all that impressive (although everyone was kind enough not to say so!), but I loved having everyone around my table, eating and drinking and chatting. It echoed the warmth I had felt in these celebrations when I was younger, and it felt good to have that in my own home on this holiday.
I have hosted a Diwali dinner nearly every year since then (give or take a pandemic). I have, thankfully, expanded my repertoire of Indian recipes little by little every year, and now I am a lot more confident about sharing my food with my friends. I even have an excuse to cook in large quantities, as I usually have 10-15 people over for dinner. My mother sends a care package every year, with savory snacks and sweets. I always put some of those out before and after dinner - a piece of home for everyone else to try. I love being able to share this holiday with my friends, many of whom are not Indian, but happy to celebrate with me nonetheless.
This past weekend I went to Jackson Heights to do some grocery shopping for my Diwali dinner. It’s the closest thing to a Little India that New York has. There is a Patel Brothers there, an Indian grocery chain that has all the essentials (and then some), jewelry stores, clothing stores, sweet shops, and restaurants. This was the first time I had gone so close to Diwali. I was surprised to find that the main strip was decorated with lights, not unlike Chinatown around Lunar New Year. Every store was advertising a different Diwali sale. The sweet shops had lines twenty people deep. There was that buzz in the air; the same one I had felt in India. I didn’t know that I could find that feeling here, too. I slipped into Hindi here and there; even now, there are some words that I don’t have an English counterpart for. I came back to Manhattan laden with bags. I was exhausted but also exhilarated, in some way. I had a menu planned, I had a chunk of the groceries done, and I had felt that Diwali spirit here, so close to my home.
Diwali is on Thursday, November 4th this year. I’ll be hosting dinner on Friday, out of convenience, but on Thursday, I will place tea lights in each room of my apartment so that Lakshmi finds her way here to bless my home for the coming year.
Diwali always feels like a fresh start to me. It will also (loosely) mark the one year anniversary of posting here regularly, a habit I really wasn’t sure I could commit to. Now, I’m looking forward to seeing what the next year brings, including more writing. I hope you’ll keep following along. Happy Diwali! May the coming year bring you and yours health, happiness and prosperity.
