Diwali is a celebration of good over evil, darkness over light and knowledge over ignorance. In India, Diwali surrounds us with excitement, extravagant shopping, fire crackers, exchanging gifts, feasting on lavish meals, wearing new clothes, buying jewelry and lighting up homes and neighborhoods with oil lamps. Streets are transformed into a whole new world, bustling with life, glittering with dazzling light bulbs, the air oozing with cheer, laughter and the spirit of festivity. A long stretch of holidays at work and school makes it possible for everyone to meet and greet loved ones living far away and spend quality time with those near and dear. Celebrations begin early in the day and last for days after the festival is over, leaving precious memories to linger in our minds.
After moving to the United States in 2015, my definition of Diwali changed drastically. Though I followed all the traditions as I had in my home country, the feeling was never the same. The five-day festival that I was used to disappeared and was quickly replaced by weekend celebrations with the Indian community. Of course, it felt like something was missing.
This Diwali in the United States was significantly different. After living away from India for over three years now, I sought a unique way to make my Diwali memorable. Musing over several suggestions, nothing appealed to me. Finally, I decided to invite a bunch of students, living in my building for a meal at my house. I often meet them on my morning runs. I was apprehensive as they are all Americans and I had only recently met them. Happily, they accepted my invitation, making it possible for me to celebrate the festival in my own way.
While I was cooking for them, there was a recurring chain of thoughts that chased me. I worried that the spice levels were too high, if everyone would enjoy the food, if there were enough desserts in case someone did not like so much spice. But all my doubts were put to rest as I watched them eagerly load their plates. My heart filled with gratitude as they relished the food that I had carefully prepared for them. It felt like they savored the celebration, though it was nothing close to the grand scale that I was used to. Their youthful presence had overcome my loneliness on Diwali. Their fascination with my culture made me feel proud of who I am.
The smiles and the compliments showered on me made me forget my fatigue of the day.
The evening grew brighter as I let myself drown in their energetic chatter, effervescence and enthusiasm for life. The small chunk of time that these students spent with me helped brush away my thoughts of being away from home on a festival that was synonymous with togetherness.
I am amazed how my culture and tradition, such an integral part of my life and how it embellishes my life more when I share it with people who are not familiar with it. For a short while, my house buzzed with a joyous energy and the festive spirit of India. I became deeply emotional and was forced to hold back my tears as I was overwhelmed by the warmth of their affectionate presence. It lessened my longing to be in my home country on special occasions like this.
This year, Diwali is a milestone for me. Breaking the cliché of past celebrations gave birth to a new world of possibilities. My first experience, celebrating my festival with non-Indians, belonging to a younger generation, taught me that there is no fixed pattern to celebrate a festival.
I now know that it is okay to give my own personal touch to it.
For me, this year’s Diwali was the triumph of togetherness over separation from loved ones, the light of friendship diminishing the darkness of isolation, reassuring me about a fact that I already knew; any festival comes to life when you put your heart into the celebration.
Happy Diwali!
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