Diwali or Deepaavali has meant so many different things for me over the past six decades.
When I was very young, we lived in front of a temple. We got up VERY early, say 3 AM, went to the temple where they would give a ceremonial bath with oil to the Narayana idol. As prasad, we would get small portions of the same oil, which we would bring home, pat our heads with, and have the ceremonial bath. We would then light lamps, and at day break burst a lot of crackers. The symbolism was that Krishna had liberated the world of the tyranny of Narakasura after a massive battle, which he had won that night, and the whole world bathed and lit lamps and burst crackers to celebrate the new freedom, worshipping Krishna or Vishnu.
I was once given a budget of Rs. 5/- to buy crackers. I was around ten. I did massive research in all shops, and bought the best mix of crackers that cost less and made good impact- sparkle and sound. I was proud of my shopping efficiency. Alas, I finished the entire stock in the very first daybreak session. And Diwali lasts 3 days.
One year, our family had no money. I insisted on buying a new shirt at least. My mother was able to scratch some savings together from here and there and give me a few rupees. She said I could go and buy a shirt with that money if I could. I searched the entire length of Gandhi Bazar but could not find anything good enough. I did not buy a new shirt that Diwali.
I visited my in-laws for my first Diwali after marriage. We did a grand celebration with lots of crackers. My mother-in-law was a superb cook and was extremely kind, she served a great feast.
When I went to Madras and Calcutta, I found rich people (mostly north Indian traders) burst lots of crackers. I thought it was a huge waste of money, but surely it made a loud and spectacular impact. The day after Diwali, the streets were strewn with trash, red, black and unburst crackers. Urchins would be scrounging for some unburst ones. It was an ugly sight as aftermath. But nowadays, we have become insensitive to poverty or trash.
Our neighbours in Madras in '80s had a 10000 cracker long burst ritual. The community would lay the cracker roll along the street and the burst would last over 15 minutes. People would actually record the sound on a cassette tape!
When I was very young, I burst crackers with such bravado, once I burst the cracker close to my face and singed my eye-brows. They grew back after some months.
Diwali in Delhi and Bombay meant lots of sweets sold in shops and eaten in large quantities. Gaudy and gorgeous clothes, spectacular rockets and aerial displays, and much loud celebration.
A crazy thing that happened for some years was that the big bosses in GE and Siemens would come down for business trips during Diwali. Both our families and the bosses would be irritated that Diwali was not a good time for business meetings. White people couldn't understand why Indians don't celebrate Christmas and instead have some pagan festival called Diwali.
One of my colleagues had developed his Diwali into a grand PR session. He would invite important bosses and colleagues,and spend lots of money on crackers and eats. It was a simple math as he would harvest the goodwill for the entire year afterwards.
In Delhi, Diwali is a time for great bribes to be given to officials and customers. Lots of expensive gifts, sweets and goodies, given in huge lots to happy recipients. Babus' wives clear up large rooms to stack up the gifts, and enjoy them for long afterwards. Black, white and colour, all mixed up. Goddess Lakshmi has no qualms in Delhi.
Nowadays, I go to my terrace and watch the nouveau riche light up the Bangalore skies with totally spectacular fireworks. The rocket flies high up, emits stellar bursts in psychedelic colours, and after an almost endless shower of sparkle, little lanterns of light descend slowly in the sky. It must have cost Rs. 20K and more for one such rocket, and from black (money and everything else!) , we get so much colour and sparkle!
I then go down and savour some special sweets. Nowadays you can buy lovely north Indian and Bengali sweets all around our city. Children also look so cute in new clothes. There is lots of retail therapy at hand, to drive away thoughts of any worries or problems at micro or macro level.
We light little oil lamps and line them up on our compound wall. They glimmer so nicely, bringing happy thoughts of our childhood.
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