Diwali is the festival of lights - the biggest Hindu festival in India. In terms of fanfare, think of it as Hindu Christmas plus fireworks. Friends and neighbors exchange sweets (akin to cookie exchange), homes are cleaned (like Christmas) and decorated with lights and Rangoli patterns. There are sales on home goods and folks are bombarded with advertisements for jewelry and watches (for the special someone in your life). Everywhere you look there is a sale or a bumper sale. Streets are decorated with lights and shops/markets are dressed up in their glittering best.
When
Bernie asked if I have a favorite holiday memory, I said - Yes, oh yes. I sure do.
My dad was a bank manager. In an era when ATMs were unknown and online banking had not been invented, dad interacted with lots of people from all walks of life. Their concerns were as varied as their financial standings and dad went out of his way to help them. Most of his clients were local small business owners and some of them had loans from the bank. There were short periods of time when their accounts were overdrawn when their bulk orders were delivered. As a bank manger, dad had the discretion whether they received a fine or not. Since dad knew them and their businesses he knew that they were good for it. Of course this meant the world to a small business owner. Naturally they wanted to express their gratitude but dad refused all gifts due to ethical reasons.
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Large Welcoming Display at the New Delhi Airport
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Come Diwali, all those small business owners had a chance to express their gratitude. Visitors would begin as early as 10:00 in the morning. Most came with a standard box of sweets, some brought a fancy box of dry fruits (cashews, almonds, raisins and pistachios). Dad and mom would greet the visitor and offer tea which was mostly declined. There were many more boxes to deliver, they would say. Of course they were in a hurry so mom and dad would walk with them to the main gate chatting all the way.
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Large Rangoli - Flower Petals, Grass and Colored Powders |
This was our golden opportunity. While mom and dad were seeing this gentleman off, us girls (my sister and I) would sneak into the drawing room and attack the box of sweets. If the box contained all one kind of sweets, we'd be disappointed. If the box contained an assortment of sweets, we'd be thrilled. Joyously we'd each pick our favorite and enjoy the syrupy sweetness completely oblivious of the calories or additives. By the time mom and dad walked back into the drawing room, we girls would be elbows deep into the box of sweets. Dad would shake his head and smile while mom would give us the stink eye.
"Come on girls," she'd say. "Some of these sweets can go to friends and neighbors." Yes sweets regifting (if the box was unopened or the sweets looked undisturbed) is normal and acceptable.
One time we received a large fruit basket and even mom was impressed. I still remember the sweet and juicy pears.
In the evening mom would prepare the special meal - matar paneer (peas and cheese), alu gobhi (potatoes and cauliflower), pooris (fry bread) and dahi wada (dumplings in yogurt with sweet tamarind chutney).
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Pre-made Rangoli (painted wooden frame) |
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Rangoli by Paul and Preeti |
Dad would light the firecrackers, while we girls watched from a safe distance away. My sister and I were fine with holding sparklers but rockets and flower pots were too much for us. Mostly we sat happy and wide-eyed as dad went through all the crackers - little noisy ones on a string that went pat pat pat, long rockets that went zoom, and pyramid shaped flower pots - big, bright and colorful. I remember, one year there was a new cracker/rocket that started as one color and then changed to another and ended with a shower of little stars.
Then we'd gather for the Diwali Pooja (prayers to Ganesha and Laxmi). We'd all sing the aarti (Hymns to Lord Ganesha and Goddess Laxmi) together. After the Pooja it was time to enjoy the sumptuous spread. We went to bed while the distant sound of firecrackers continued till after midnight.
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Fourth of July Fireworks |
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Big and Bright |
After dad passed away we never got firecrackers. Mom still sends sweets to a few close friends and family members but those days of almost non-stop sweets/fruits are long gone. My fond memories remain.
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In process |
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Rangoli 2016 - Completed with the tea lights |
Although we did not make Rangoli growing up, I have adopted that tradition as something that Paul and I can do together. We make the Rangoli to welcome the Goddess Laxmi. I perform the Diwali Pooja, while he watches reverently. I feel silly (and off kilter) singing by myself, so we listen while I play it on my phone. We light candles and turn on the festival lights. This year Paul surprised me with firecrackers, "because they make you happy", Paul said. Although he bought them for 4th of July, we saved a few for Diwali.
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Modest Diwali Lights |
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Paul with Sparklers :-) |
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Rangoli 2020 - Bit Subdued |
Fireworks still make me happy. Once we went to Chicago for the 4th of July and watched the fireworks display from a boat on Lake Michigan. Awesome!!! A couple years ago I met Sandra in Buffalo, NY and we watched the fireworks display from the bridge between US and Canada. It was beautiful and I was very happy.
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I'll never be too old for fireworks |
I got take-out from an Indian restaurant. The only thing missing was the sweets. Paul does not care for Indian sweets so I asked him to get whatever dessert he wanted. He got a Strawberry Cake.
The next day I called mom and narrated to her how we had pieced together a pandemic Diwali celebration. "As long as you got your favorite sweets, it works. It is important that the festival includes all." She added, "next year I wish that you and Paul can come to India and we can celebrate together."
I agreed.
Paul: But what about Christmas memories?
Me: We did go to a convent school and sang Christmas carols at the morning assembly.
Paul: No. Not your childhood Christmas memories. Our Christmas memories.
Me: Huh?
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Our First Christmas Together (Paul got us a TV) |
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Paul had created the "Santa Scene" (Jonesie in the background)
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My sense of awe is intact |
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Paul's gift was a hit |
Me: Oh yes. It was 2016.
Paul: There was a little Christmas tree on the table with tiny ornaments.
Me: You know I ordered that from Indian Amazon and had it delivered to mom before we got there.
Paul: That was very sweet.
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The little Christmas Tree |
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With Meetu |
Me: Meetu brought the food.
Paul: Didn't you bake the cookies here and carried them half way across the world.
Me: I wasn't sure I would get all the ingredients in India.
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Cranberry Shortbread Cookies |
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On Christmas Morning (see the tree/plant behind) |
Paul: Anju and her husband came too. Me: And they brought my favorite - Black Forest Cake.
Paul: But you are forgetting the best part...
Me: No, I was saving that for the last.
Paul: The tree.
Me: Yes, the big tree.
The potted plant in the picture above became the Christmas tree.
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My brother |
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Mom and Paul |
Paul is a huge hit in India. I have lovingly called him my trophy husband. His fair skin and blue eyes are an instant draw. He speaks almost no Hindi and makes for an excellent listener. Savita's son and Ruby's boys are fascinated with him. They will take pictures with him and post on FB and then beam with every like and comment. They will proudly claim him to be their American uncle married to their Indian aunty. So when they realized that Paul would be celebrating Christmas with them, it became a mission. Mom's driver Lalit joined in the scheme and they decorated a large live potted plant.
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Paul and his young fans |
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Merry Christmas |
Me: Didn't you make the star on the top of the tree?
Paul: I did. Cardboard and aluminum foil.
Me: With a pencil at its base?
Paul: Yup.
Me: Merry Christmas to you, babe.
Paul: Happy Diwali to you, darling.
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Christmas in India |
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Diwali in the US |
I am going to read about all the holiday tales and traditions as narrated by other quilter/bloggers. Won't you join the fun?
And if you have a favorite holiday memory, I'd love to hear all about it in the comments.
Have a Safe and a Happy Holiday!