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The Evolution of My American Diwali

Growing up, Diwali was always one of my favorite holidays (second only to Holi). The day would start with the familiar hush of the streets outside that we had gotten used to associating with public holidays. (I grew up on a main road in South Bombay – the streets were rarely quiet). We unveiled new clothes, and spent the afternoon examining various gift baskets that had arrived earlier in the week. Depending on the level of adult supervision, we even managed to sneak a couple of tastes of chocolate or mithai and then waited eagerly through our sugar highs for the evening’s festivities to begin.

In our family the evening puja was held in our store, where my parents, grandparents, sister and I would squeeze into the master cabin, with our family priest (the one who aspired to be a cop but could only make it to pundit). My sister and I stifled giggles as my father attempted to distract us, all the while evading my grandfather’s warning glance. Once the ceremonies were done, the festivities began with the distribution of cash gifts and sweets, phone calls around the world to friends and family, and the inevitable eruption of crackers out on the street. (This last bit was not my favorite – I was usually the one with my fingers in my ears in the far corner of the room). The final part of the evening was one that I was able to enjoy in the last few years – the late night card and music parties.

1998 was the last Diwali I spent in India, and ever since then, I have sought out different ways to improvise and to recreate a sliver of the Diwalis of home. Depending on the phase of my life, the focus has been a little different, but it always included the elements of family, Indian food, and music. In college, we managed to downplay the family bit, and go straight to the food and music. Recently, in my married life, my husband and I attempt to invoke some of the spirit of Diwali through our own makeshift pujas (we printed out the lyrics to Om Jai Jagdish last year – the plan this year is to actually memorize them).

I have realized that every year that the distance between India and I gets larger, my devotion to recreating my best Diwali moments becomes more fervent. This is particularly useful I find, when the external environment does not automatically “understand” the significance of the day. (“Indian Christmas” doesn’t quite cut it). In the absence of family, we surround ourselves with friends, and manage to create the feeling that this is a special day. So far, so good, but I do wonder if the two experiences will ever intersect.

On a more introspective note than I had originally expected, IndiaOn wishes you all a Happy Diwali.

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