Diwali celebrations in my childhood used to start weeks before Diwali: our house was painted, new clothes were bought, there was excitement all around.
Every member of the family had a specific job assigned to him/her. For Amma, my Grandmother, Diwali meant preparing delicious savoury snacks and sweets. besan laddus, pedas, mathris, namakparas, shakkarparas, aloo lachcha and much more. I can’t forget the smell of the roasting of besan in desi ghee. Every year my Amma tried to add a new snack to the Diwali gift list.
I always knew that she loved cooking and trying out new recipes. Now when I look back, I can safely say that she was very competitive. She wanted to outdo the rest of the neighbourhood ladies in the Diwali sweets exchange competition. It wasn’t a declared contest, but there was definitely a challenge to send a thali(stainless steel plate with a rim) full of sweets and savouries, more elaborate than your neighbour. Amma would herself arrange the sweets and savouries in the thali and cover it with a beautiful white lace thal-posh(plate cover). She had knitted the thal-poshs herself. She would wait for our reaction, after we reached home after delivering the Diwali sweets.
“They didn’t try the sweets in our presence, how do we know they liked it or not.” was our usual response.
The Uncle who lived in the lane next to ours had a sweet tooth. If he was home, his reaction would come instantly, “Your Dadi makes the best besan laddus.” His wife would give him an angry look and say, “Take out a pinch of laddu for the ants, before you eat. Keep the ant’s share on the fence.” He would look at me with a smile and say, “The ants don’t care, who ate first.”
The excitement and pleasure of gifting and receiving the handmade sweets and savouries was much more than, the expensive dry fruits arranged in beautiful boxes and exclusive designer gifts sent by corporates and acquaintances these days.
The menu of the Diwali lunch was the same year after year. It hasn’t changed even today in our family. Bedmi poori, alloo ki methi wali sabzi and khatta meetha kaddu along with dahi gujhiyas. I always irritated my Dadi when, she was making dahi gujhiyas.
“Why do you make the same boring shapes again and again, let us try some new shapes?”
“I will make a few different shapes for you, for the guests I will stick to the traditional shape.” She made the perfect crescent shaped dahi gujhiyas. One by one, a spoon full of lentil paste was spread on a wet muslin cloth, a few broken pieces of cashews and kishmish were added to it and the gujhiyas were gently released into the oil, one by one and fried, till they turned golden brown.
My mother was all through busy cleaning the house, changing bedsheets, making arrangements for the Pooja ceremony in the evening. My father was busy entertaining visitors. Performing the Pooja was my Grandfather’s job. He remembered all the shlokas by heart. We the children of the house would be restless, waiting for the Pooja to finish so that we could go out and burst crackers.
A majority of Indians celebrate Diwali because on this day, Lord Rama, his wife Sita, and his brother Lakshman returned to Ayodhya after 14 years of exile. It is also believed that on Diwali, the Hindu goddess of fortune, Lakshmi, roams the earth and bestows people with money and prosperity. Laxmi Pooja is an integral part of Diwali prayers. According to Jainism, on Diwali, Lord Mahavira attained Nirvana. My Grandfather used to recite, “Mahavir Swami payo nirvan, Gautam Swami payo kewal gyan,” after the Diwali prayers. Gautam Swami was Mahavir Swami’s favourite student. He attained enlightenment after Mahavir Swami’s nirvana. The last line after the Diwali prayers, which is still my favourite is, “Jaisi Diwali is baar aayi, har sal aaye(Like we celebrated Diwali this year, may we celebrate every year).
My Grandfather was strictly against bursting crackers. Nobody talked about air pollution in those days, there was a religious angle to it. Jains are against firecrackers because insects and other small creatures perish because of the heat and smoke generated by them. We did burst firecrackers in spite of that. After a lot of persuasion by my Grandfather, once my cousin agreed to not burst crackers on Diwali. He soon repented his decision when he saw, all his cousins and siblings having fun. He burst the leftovers on the next day of Diwali. His promise to my Grandfather was valid, only till the day of Diwali. I have had a scary Diwali fire cracker accident in my childhood. A stray firecracker found its way from across the street and landed on my frock. It caught fire, thankfully my Grandfather saw me, he rushed towards me and doused the fire. We stopped bursting crackers years ago, after air pollution reached scary levels. We have become more sensitive to animal welfare also now.
A tradition that we have continued over the years is lighting terracotta diyas. Diwali is a festival of lights, there are diyas lit outside most houses on Diwali. I love the smell of mustard oil burning in the diyas. According to the tradition in our family, one diya has to keep burning until dawn. My mother kept a vigilant eye on the big diya. She filled it to the brim with mustard oil to ensure it would burn brightly throughout the festive night. Rangolis(colourful patterns) were drawn on the floor outside the house.
Diwali is much more than a religious celebration. Everyone is in a bright mood. Streets sparkle with strings of lights, markets are filled with mouth-watering sweets. Street sidewalks are full of makeshift shops of orange and yellow marigold garlands, and piles of small and big diyas. We have changed over the years, so has Diwali. May it always remain the symbol of sharing and togetherness.