Eat, Pray, Love

Let's mark Diwali as a Festival of Lights, not a Celebration of Excess

My childhood memories of Diwali revolve around (no, not shopping, crackers or mithai) cleaning. Yes, you read that right: cleaning. As a child I rapidly came to recognize that the first sign that the Festival of Lights was around the corner was that industrial-scale cleaning would commence in the Goswami household.

Entire rooms would be cleared out so that they could be washed and swabbed and swept until the floor was clean enough to eat off. The 'special crockery' that lived in the cupboard all year long, and was never used for fear of breakage, would be brought out ceremonially to be given a good scrubbing before it went right back on the shelves. The silver would be polished, the bronze given a good seeing-to. And all the Gods and Goddesses that presided over the Puja room would be ritually bathed and clad in brand-new clothes.

All of this was, of course, a communal activity, with the entire household pitching in to do their bit. Even the kids who were too young to be of much help would be handed a dusting cloth and sent forth to do their best.

I know it doesn't sound like it, but it was enormous fun. So much so that even now, when the weather starts to change and the air begins to hint at Diwali, my thoughts go back to my childhood home in Calcutta and our annual Diwali clean-out. I flash back to the vision of all the household furniture piled up high in the verandah to be given a little lick and polish, while the rooms were flushed of the dust accumulated in corners over the year. Which perhaps explains why to this day, to me, nothing says Diwali like the smell of soap-suds and bleach.

Growing up, it was made abundantly clear to me that it was only after the house was squeaky clean -- and sparkling enough to pass inspection by Ma Lakshmi -- that the task of celebrating Diwali could begin.

Of course, it was a different Diwali in those days. For one thing, communities were more integrated, and not only did we know the names of all our neighbors, we also thought nothing of dropping in on them unannounced. In fact, we weren't just in and out of each other's houses, anybody who was around at mealtimes would be asked to tuck in as well (and even expected to help clear up!).

Not surprisingly, Diwali also used to be a more communal (in the positive sense) affair. Kids would pool their resources to buy crackers and then get together in the evening to set them off while the entire neighborhood watched. Card games were more laid-back, with low stakes so that nobody could lose a fortune no matter how hard they tried. And it was enough to take a box of mithai to the neighbors to wish them Happy Diwali; you didn't need to put together an extravagant hamper full of luxury chocolates, wine, whiskey or cheese.

But as you may have noticed, things are very different these days. Instead of a home-style festival focused on family, friends and feasting, Diwali has been turned into a celebration of conspicuous consumption.

On Dhanteras it is not enough to buy something useful for the kitchen. No, the ads tell us that it is imperative to splash out on some gold. It is not enough to just buy one new outfit for the Diwali day itself. No, you must invest in a whole new wardrobe so that you never repeat a dress as you make the rounds of the endless 'card parties' that precede Diwali. It is not enough to just light up the house with diyas on the day of Diwali. No, you must get garish lights hung on the facade of your house for weeks on end to properly get into the 'festive spirit'.

Well, even though I have made my peace with the modern, more mercenary Diwali, sending out and receiving hampers with the best of them (keeping up with the Junejas, as I like to call it) there are times when I find myself longing to go back to a simpler time. A time when Diwali was truly a Festival of Lights not a Celebration of Excess. A time when we worshipped the Goddess of wealth instead of just spreading our wealth around.

So this year round, I made a resolution. I would try my best to recreate the spirit of the Diwalis of my childhood and teenage years. Here's a tiny little sampler of how I went about it.

* No to electric lights. Yes to earthen oil-filled diyas with homemade cotton wicks. (If that seems much too fiddly to you, go with beeswax candles.)

* No to heavy-duty hampers that take in everything from macaroons to Darjeeling tea to premium champagne. Yes to eco-friendly gifts like potted plants which will flourish and grow rather than be consumed and forgotten.

* No to splurging on household goods that I don't need (and scarcely have the space for). Yes to taking a collection of goodies and presents to the local orphanage and seeing the kids' eyes light up.

And, on the cheerful note, here's wishing all of you a very Happy Diwali. Stay blessed.

With a bang...not a whimper

Make a fresh start as Diwali rings in a new year…

First off, a very Happy Diwali to all of you. I hope you’re having a splendid morning. That you’re not too bleary-eyed after staying up into the early hours because of the loud crackers heralding the beginning of ‘Chhoti Diwali’ (the prelude to the main act that starts today). That you are not hungover, having had a few too many at the party last night. That you’re not bummed about having lost money at teen patti with friends (if it helps, remember that losing means you will make much more money this year). And that you’re starting the day with a piece of mithai (kaju barfi is my favourite) with your morning cup of tea and coffee.

If you are in business or trade, you will soon be heading to the office or shop to conduct a Lakshmi Puja, an invocation to the Goddess of Wealth, so that she continues to bless your ventures. And if you are a traditionalist, you will be starting a new book of accounts to herald the beginning of the New Year. 

Well, I am all in favour of starting with a clean slate at this time of year. But given that I don’t have a book of accounts to ceremonially start over, I thought that I would start with my life instead, giving it a little reboot this festive season. Out with the old, in with the new, that sort of thing. So, starting today, this is what I plan to do. If you want to join in, here is my master list.

• Actually scratch that. No more making endless lists of things that I never get around to doing (honestly, who was I kidding? I was never going to make it to the gym in the morning!). Instead, I will set myself one goal every month (or every couple of months). And if I don’t achieve it in that time frame, then I will strike it right off. 

It’s like those clothes languishing in the back of your closet. If they haven’t seen the light of day in a year, they are likely to remain unworn forever. Just make your peace with it and chuck them out. Similarly, if you haven’t finished what you set out to do in a certain period of time, the likelihood is that it’s never going to happen. Move on.

• Do one new thing. And by new, I mean something that you have never tried before. Something that you never even thought of trying before. Something that is so out of your comfort zone that grown men laugh and children giggle when you say you intend to give it a go. Yes, that something new. 

In my case, it’s going to be: learning how to play a musical instrument. No, I have no natural aptitude. And the odds are that I will suck at this no matter how hard I try. But even so, this should be fun; though perhaps, not so much for the folks next door (it goes without saying that in the interest of good neighbourly relations, I will steer clear of drums).

• Brush up old skills; yes, the ones you barely remember you possess. In my case, it’s going to be languages. Having invested several months to studying French and Italian many moons ago, I am rather shamed by the fact that I have forgotten as much as I ever learnt. It’s only when I am travelling in those parts that the cadences of those lost tongues evoke something lost in me, and the words come rushing back. In a day or two, I can make myself understood, but only at the cost of doing significant damage to the language in question. The Italians are sweet and indulgent about it; the French superior and scornful. But in both cases, it serves as an incentive to dust off those grammar books and watch a bit of Rai and TV5. Or maybe enroll in a refresher conversation course.

• Make new friends. I don’t know about you, but I find that the older I get, the harder I find it is to make new friends. There is none of the forced intimacy of schools, where you spend the best part of the day shut up in a room with a bunch of girls (or boys). The leisurely days of college when you could while away the afternoon just gossiping in the canteen are long gone. And new, corporate-style offices don’t encourage the matiness that the casual chaos of their earlier avatars did. 

So, how is one supposed to make new friends? And more importantly, good friends? Okay, I concede that it’s not easy. And you will have to kiss a lot of frogs and frogesses before you find the real thing. But if you keep yourself open to the possibility of friendship, it can be quite amazing what you find out there. You might find a kindred spirit at the school gates as you drop off your daughter. You might bond with that over-muscled man at the gym (who you always thought was a bit of a freak). Or you might just meet a bunch of like-minded folk on social media (I know, I know, famous last words…). And no matter how things work out, you will have a few laughs along the way. 

Meanwhile, there’s always Diwali to celebrate. Go on, light a diya and say a little prayer. And steer clear of firecrackers while you’re at it.

Happy Diwali!

This festive season, go forth and light up someone else’s life

Aren’t you just about fed up with the absolute avalanche of advertising asking us to go forth this Diwali and buy, buy, buy? I know I am. I am fed up of being told that I should bring home a new sofa/fridge/car/television this ‘festive season’. I am fed up of being lectured about how the best way to ‘celebrate’ this special time to buy some diamonds or invest in some gold jewellery. And I am fed up of the suggestion that the only way we can make the special people in our lives feel special is by breaking the bank and buying them some extravagant present.

Yes, I know that this is the time that the Goddess Lakshmi is worshipped in most Hindu homes – even those that are not particularly religious at other times of the year – and that the Goddess of Wealth is supposed to be welcomed with, well, a show of wealth. But seriously, what is it with all these exhortations to spend, spend, spend...and then spend just a little bit more?

Is that really what the spirit of Diwali has been reduced to in these materialistic times? Did the ‘festival of lights’ metamorphose into an ‘orgy of conspicuous consumption’ while we were busy shopping for gifts for the family? And is money really all it takes to celebrate the advent of the Lakshmi in our midst?

Well, it is certainly beginning to look like it. The markets are clogged with eager shoppers greedily picking their way through the shiny wares on display. The traffic moves at a snail pace because everybody and his uncle (and aunt and a gaggle of children) are out in their cars busy dropping off Diwali presents to all their near and dear ones. And everybody who is anybody has a veritable mountain of corporate hand-outs littering their dining table.

At one level, I guess the excitement is understandable. After all, Diwali comes around just once a year. And amidst all the diyas, the patakas, the phuljharis and the anaars, it is easy to get lost in the sheer headiness of it all. But as we scoff the chocolate barfis and kajus and badams and swear that we will go on a detox diet as soon as the last box of mithai has been polished off, do we ever stop to think about how those who don’t have our kind of disposable income are celebrating the festival? How do they cope with the ubiquitous message of conspicuous consumption when they can barely scrape together two meals a day? How do those who have no money to speak of welcome the Goddess of wealth to their homes?

If these kinds of thoughts ever do rankle, then this Diwali make a pledge to do something about it. Ignore all those media messages asking you to re-do your homes, buy a new wardrobe, upgrade your car, splurge on some jewellery or whatever new gizmo there is in the market. Don’t order a huge hamper full of exotic goodies to give away to friends and family. Cancel that expensive dinner you were planning to host for your card-playing buddies. And do the environment a favour by not bursting any noisy, polluting crackers.

I am not saying that you shouldn’t celebrate the festival with your loved ones. But do so with love and affection rather than just by mindless spending. Don’t bother with expensive, all-purpose gifts. Instead think of what each individual on your list would most enjoy. Is your cousin interested in cooking? Gift her some herbs – parsley, coriander, mint, sage, rosemary – growing in small pots that she can place on her kitchen ledge. Is your wife a proud hostess? Find her some hand-made aromatic candles that she can display proudly at her next dinner party. If putting that much thought into each gift seems daunting, then just stick to the tried-and-tested: earthernware diyas that can be used in the Diwali puja, and potted plants that can survive the seasons on the balcony.

Once you’ve bought all these ‘alternative’ gifts, make a quick estimate of how much money you have saved. Now, find some worthwhile cause to donate it to. It could be to an NGO you trust; the neighbourhood centre that educates underprivileged children; the blind school; a shelter for battered women; or even a temple that feeds the poor.

As for all those hampers of bakery products and confectionary littering your drawing room, pile them all into your car and head for the nearest orphanage or blind school. Set up a little counter and give away all the stuff to the children. Watch as they scoff it down with delight. That experience is worth more than any bit of jewellery you could possibly own. And the fact that you are able to enjoy it is true wealth.

So, this year instead of going forth and buying, buying, buying, make a pledge to go forth and spread some good cheer among those less fortunate. And on that note, Happy Diwali to all of you!