Since yesterday I’ve been getting Diwali wishes on my WhatsApp group. Online greetings have now become de rigeur for all occasions these days. While some May grumble about the decline of greeting cards or the custom of personally delivered wishes, I feel that this new form makes it easier for people to know that they are remembered and thought of on special days.
The greetings may well be just forwards, but then greeting cards are also produced en masse. Aren’t they ?
The big Indian festival of Diwali is coming up. And after two years of subdued celebrations thanks to CoVid, we are now ready to party like never before.
I am re-posting ( with changes) an old post written way back in 2015. Lots of things have changed since then, chief among them being my BLOG. Ever on the lookout for the perfect name and the perfect niche, I have still not hit upon the right formula for a successful blog. in 2015, a Write Triber ( a blogging group that I belonged to) from Canada had asked what the festival was all about and a few of us responded by narrating our own Diwali celebrations.
A common question people ask when they see a house with lights blazing for no reason at all is : “Are you celebrating Diwali?”A house lit up is associated with celebrations like Diwali, the Festival of Lights and at any other time, is considered wasteful.
My Diwali Celebrations
Diwali is always been a simple family celebration, with or without the extended family on either side of the family tree. Diwali is celebrated with traditions handed down from generation to generation but since my dad was in a government job that took us all over India, we were exposed to different local customs, and our family developed its own way of celebrating festivals.
The bath in the dark dawn
On the first day of Diwali, at crack of dawn with our teeth chattering, my brother and I would sit stripped down to our underwear (when we were very young that is) on low wooden stools bordered with rangoli patterns and flanked by a flickering oil lamp, waiting for our mother’s special scented oil massage. As we grew older, the oil massage transformed into thorough oiling of our arms and legs and sadly our faces too! This was followed by a scrub down with a special herbal paste of turmeric, sandalwood, chickpea flour, and fresh cream finally rinsed down with mugs of steaming hot water. Then dressed up in our new finery we’d sit at the table for the special breakfast.
While I was having a bath, my brother would light a string of firecrackers and I would do the same when it was his turn. I loved that bath in the darkness with just the light of an oil lamp flickering, the steam rising from the bucket of hot water and the dramatic sound of the firecrackers.
In my own home, the children resisted getting up at dawn and didn’t really care for new clothes bought specially for the occasion as we bought clothes all year round. I did, of course, keep some clothes unused to be worn especiallyfor Diwali but the tradition of going shopping for fabrics and deciding on patterns and styles just did not exist anymore.
Diwali breakfast
Clean and well-attired, we looked forward to the Diwali breakfast – which was different from our usual fare of eggs and toast. This special feast of homemade goodies – Ladoos (hand-rolled sweet balls) made of semolina and coconut or toasted chick pea flour were our favourites. There’d be fresh coconut karanji ( stuffed deep-fried pastry) crispy savoury shev, chakli and chivda and some fresh snacks like pohe (beaten rice flakes) or upama. After breakfast, my brother and I would be sent off to the neighbours’ houses with a plates of goodies covered with a stiffly starched napkin and strict instructions not to dawdle. We came home soon enough with yummies in return or at least the promise of the plate to be returned later on the day.
While my children were little I used to make the customary sweets but with everyone becoming calorie conscious, I now just make the bare minimum as it is considered inauspicious not to light the stove on a festive day.
Similarly, the exchange of goodies is more a style statement nowadays with traditional sweets being replaced by store-bought stuff like baskets of fresh fruit, boxes of dry fruit, chocolates & cake delivered by emissaries like drivers and or maids.
Diwali meals
Meals during Diwali were vegetarian with special sweets like Shreekhand or Basundi and at least one meal was eaten with the extended family. It used to be a leisurely affair which we all enjoyed thoroughly.
Like everything else, this too has changed and I even serve non-vegetarian fare made in non-traditional cuisines like Italian and Chinese. Of course, my grandmother would have been horrified but I believe that festivals are meant to be enjoyed and food plays a very important part so I hope God forgives me for this transgression.
The Festival of Lights
The most romantic part of this festival is the lighting of the lamps. I would accompany my mother to the bazaar and buy clay lamps which we would sun for two days and then soak in oil so that they absorbed less oil when lit. Occasionally my mother would let me colour them.
We’d roll the cotton into long thin wicks – lots of them because we’d use two at a time and light the lamps at dawn and dusk all through the days of Diwali. The flame is never supposed to be snuffed out and I loved watching the flames flicker into the night, my row of lights slowly going out.
On all the days of Diwali, we’d be encouraged to leave every light bulb in the house switched on (including the bathroom and store room) just so that Good Luck found its way to our home.
Thankfully this is one ritual that hasn’t undergone much change. Most years I use traditional clay lamps but occasionally I substitute them with tea lights, floating candles and traditional brass lamps. These days I have resorted to the tiny battery-operated tea lights that are made in far-off CHINA!
Getting ready for Diwali The highlight of our Diwali celebrations was getting ready for it. A week before Diwali we’d begin cleaning out cupboards and getting the clothes and goodies organised. My mother would plan menus and shop for ingredients, get simple garlands of marigold and mango leaves.
These days I have substituted fresh flower garlands with cloth ones that I reuse every year and for every festival.
Today as I celebrate Diwali with my daughter and her daughter I wonder what traditions they will establish.
THE FIVE DAYS OF DIWALI
Vasu Baras
The five days of Diwali celebrate and commemorate many values and relationships. It begins on the 12th day of the fortnight of the waning moon in the month of Kartik with Vasu Baras or the Festival of the Cow and Calf . Undoubtedly, the purest love known to man is the love between a mother and child so on this day we commemorate this love by feeding a calving cow. I must confess that I’ve never celebrated this aspect of Diwali, never having had a cow in my backyard but I think it is a unique way to acknowledge this deep bond.
Dhantrayodashi
The next day is Dhantrayodashi a day for worshipping Lord Laxmi is more commonly observed among the Trading community and in my home is considered as just another ordinary day before Diwali. At best,we light an oil lamp and possibly purchase some jewellery or household gadget/pots that are on my wish list.
Narak Chaturdashi and Laxmi Pujan
On the dark moonless night is the main celebration of Diwali . The demon Narkasur who had once terrorised all humans was slain by the Goddess Durga on Narak Chaturdashi hence a day of great rejoicing. It also happened to be the day Lord Rama returned triumphantly to his kingdom after fourteen tumultuous years of exile. We continue to welcome Him into our homes with lights ,floral garlands and rangoli designs on the floor. This is the main celebration of Diwali where the Goddess of Wealth who plays a very important role in all our lives is worshipped with a Laxmi Pujan. Since our family is not Baniya or a family of traders our Puja is not a grand affair but the simple worship of a silver coin engraved with the goddess Laxmi.
Padva
The next day which is the beginning of the new month is one of the 3 1/2 auspicious days where every moment is propitious enough to begin a new venture ( without the go-ahead of an astrologer and his calculations). This padva as it is called is of special significance for married couples because the wife honours her husband with a lighted lamp aarati while he gives her a gift in return. This is the day when daughters honour their fathers and mothers honour their children. Needless to say, there is an exchange of gifts. Strange as it may sound, gifts are generally cash which is kept in the tray with the lamp.
Bhau Beej I can never understand how our Hindu calendar is calculated and sometimes Padva and Bhau Beej falls on the same day. If this is the case, the Padva celebration has to be done well before the ‘next day’ begins else you might find yourself honouring your husband as your brother because the last celebration of Diwali (Bhau Beej) honours the relationship between brothers and sisters. Traditionally the sister invites the brother to her home for a feast and honours him with the aarati of a lighted lamp. And naturally, he gives her a gift.
Legend has it that Yami, the sister of Lord Yama (the god of death) started this custom of inviting her brother over for a meal.
So dear Reader, I hope you get a good idea of what Diwali is all about and how I’ve celebrated it over the years.
This year our Diwali celebration is quite undecided as we aren’t having the BIG family do at our home this year. Prima Donna and Ms Papaya are going to be out of town and Anna Shetty is quite undecided about her plans. We may have brunch, breakfast or lunch but what we are going to do is definitely have a good time.
I am getting old and my parents are getting even older so I thought I should visit them more regularly and more frequently . This time I was planning to stay longer than my usual visit as it was my mum’s birthday. So, I needed to carry some clothes with me. Unfortunately, my overnighter was also travelling at the same time ( with Prima Donna) so I needed another bag for myself. With this in mind, I went down to buy myself a bag or piece of luggage to travel with as all the other luggage was larger than my requirement. Besides, I was travelling by train and needed a bag that could be wheeled across a platform and carried over the rail overhead bridge.
Many years ago, I had bought myself a smart, compact Samsonite wheelie in shocking purple that seemed to smile as it whirled around. I deliberately got this colour which would put off anyone else in my family from taking it on their travels. After all, they were the classic black bag types.
But I was proved wrong when Ms Papaya came into my life four years ago, and appropriated the bag: it was the perfect size for her and she just adored the colour, so before I knew it, the bag was officially hers.
A few months ago, Prima Donna began making frequent work related trips to Gujerat and she found the purple wheelie ideal for her travels. It carried just the right amount of clothes that she required, was smart enough to go by train or plane and fitted well with her corporate image.
So , this arrangement of one bag between three users worked very well till last week when Prima Donna and I discovered that we would both be travelling at exactly the same time. Naturally I needed a new bag.
Solving the problem
Now a few months ago, a huge was parcel delivered to our doorstep from Prima Donna’s company. On opening it, I found it contained a huge good sized American Tourister travel bag. I thought this was a strange ‘gift’ to receive from a company for no reason at all and was convinced it was the company’s annual stock clearance policy rather than employee welfare in play. And sure enough it was : on close inspection, I found that the zips didn’t zip , the roll out handle didn’t roll out and the bag was a bit out of shape being squashed in one position for several years. Yes ! On even closer inspection, I found that the bag was manufactured in 2012 !!!!!!
Now this made me all the more determined to return it to sender but since I couldn’t do that, I did the next best thing – take it to a dealer who could either fix it or exchange it .
Finding an American Tourister dealer on line was pointless because the closest dealer was 100 km away. The ones listed closer to home had phone numbers that didn’t exist any more.
So I went to a general bag dealer down the road who had an exchange offer going on. Predictably, my bag was unmendable so he offered another in exchange and since I didn’t like any of the bags on display I left the shop with a credit note of Rs. 400 that I could use till December on any bag that I liked.
A few weeks later, armed with the credit note, I identified a duffel bag only to find that it was not eligible for a Rs.400 discount. But it seemed to meet my requirements: small, compact, cabin sized with wheels and a strap to haul across a railway overbridge . And , since it was black and from a well known Indian brand, I thought it would find favour with my family who would definitely have more use for it than me.
But as usual I guessed wrongly and the bag was dissed as unsuitable not only for me but for the ENTIRE family. No one in the family would be caught dead using it as it was pronounced appropriate only for country bumpkins who travelled rough or for ardent trekkers.
Since no one at home qualifies for either category of traveller, I had to return it . So the next day I went back to the dealer and exchanged it for smart Victorinox which although was marked down, still cost me twice the amountI had originally paid.
Twenty- five Seven 