Diwali

Deepavali literally means a row of lights. The memories of many Deepavalis run through my mind as the festival heralds its arrival with the glitter and glitz that is entirely commercial permeating the city.

My earliest memories of Deepavali are of my brothers buying crackers. The youngest would sit patiently and unravel the plaited string of the tiny red and green oosi pattasu (needle-like) crackers. The larger Red Fort crackers, red in colour, were also treated to the dismemberment because, unlike the other two siblings, he did not believe in bursting the string at one go. He would light a candle and sit on the flight of stairs leading up to our first floor apartment. My cousin would join him, typically with his tongue sticking out, patiently bursting the crackers one by one. Some would not burst and were picked up and preserved for special attention. The next morning such pieces met their final fate -- they would be folded and then lit at the fold causing them to fizzle out with a mild shower of sparks.

The other brothers, meanwhile, would burst all their crackers at one go and would exhaust their quota and scrounge around for largesse from various members of the family. I would be made to stay at a distance at the top of the stairs as the smoke would start off my wheezing. Then the flowerpots would be lit. I would be given a long stick to hold the Roman candle or kambi mathappus -- the phuljadi on thin wires --.to protect me from the stinging flying sparks. The atom bombs were lit carefully with a long stick by my mama (Uncle) who would have an air of satisfaction after it went off with a loud bang. Any burns or minor accidents were laid at his door and he, poor guy, would be answerable for a clutch of nephews and nieces. It was another matter that any scolding he received was just water off a duck's back. He was the undisputed leader and the whole street was under the command of Mani mama.

The evening before Diwali the house would be redolent with the smell of sweetmeats and savouries like mixture, mysore pak, badurshah, chocolate cake, thirattipaal (kova) and ribbon pakodas. After an early dinner, my mother would make that glorious concoction called Diwali marundu or medicine that helps with digestion for the next few days, given the rich diet and wet weather. The smell of the Indian herbs, ginger, pepper, nutmeg, cardomom, honey, gur and ghee cooked to a syrupy lehiam is forever associated with the festival.

Rains and aipasi or Aswini month go together in the South and many Deepavalis have been damp squibs with the fireworks going limp with the moisture from the atmosphere. The children would nag the parents to buy the crackers in advance so that the fireworks could be dried in the sun and kept ready for bursting on the festival day. Some gullible parents would fall into the trap, not realising that the request was a camouflage for bursting crackers well before the actual festival.

When the crackers had to be burst as per sampradayam (custom or tradition) on the festival day, parents were dragged off to cracker shops that would have sprung up overnight in each locality on the eve of the festival, for a repeat replenishing of inventory. (Maybe that's why in the South crackers are hoarded from Deepavali and burst on Karthik Purnima when lamps are lit and the weather is more clement.) Many parents, of course, under the guise of protecting their offspring from accidents, take upon themselves the pleasant duty of having a go at the crackers, satisfying their childhood memories.

The actual celebration is the oil bath before sunrise on Narakachaturdasi. My mother would wake up first and arrange all the new clothes for the various members of the family in the puja room. A sweet and savoury and a bowl of marundu or lehiam was kept ready. Til (sesame) oil, heated and seasoned with curry leaves, whole pepper and jeera was also kept ready. By turns, all the family members would sit on a wooden plank in front of the gods. Amma would put three dabs of oil on the top of the head (with great protests from the children), a dab on each cheek and send us off by turns for an oil bath with shikakai. I am allergic to the strong smell of shikakai, so the substitute was chana dal to wash away the greasiness of the oil.

In my childhood we had this huge copper boiler on the terrace near the bathroom stoked with firewood. Water was transferred from this into brass (later aluminium) buckets, taken into the bathroom and mixed with cold water from the taps. In many houses the boiler was kept inside the bathroom and the smoky smell would permeate into our very skin and clothes.

After the bath we would wear our new clothes and eat a spoonful of the lehiam followed by bakshanam. The next item on the agenda was bursting crackers. The srrrrr of the silk saris, paavadais and the veshtis would add to the glorious feeling of celebration. Silk clothing was a compulsory part of the Deepavali scene. Today, many people wear substitutes for silk. The heavy Kanjeevaram has given way to Mysore silks, Daccai, silk-cotton weaves, poly cottons and a whole range of mill saris under ubiquitous names like Poonam and Kunwar. The paavadai / daavani (the long skirt and half sari) that was shunned as regional and parochial has made a grand reentry into fashion and the nine yards sari too has regained its ethnic popularity for festival wearing. For convenience and daily wear, the salwar kameez reigns supreme.

Later in the morning we would arrange the current year's sweetmeats and distribute it to the neighbours. Relatives would visit us to get the blessings of my grandmother and my parents. We, in our turn, would visit others to do Deepavali namaskarams and were rewarded with cash. Newly wedded couples were given much respect and they celebrated their first Deepavali with lot of gifts. The diamond ring or gold chain for the maapillai was de rigour. The clan gathered for Deepavali lunch to celebrate the festival. The blessing bestowed on the couples was usually 'let the next Deepavali be celebrated with a baby'. My thalai (first) Deepavali was solo as my husband was away in foreign lands. Strangely, my children too have had their thalai Deepavalis away from us and the traditional celebrations.

The North Indian concept of five-day Deepavali celebrations was also part of my childhood. We had great Gujarati and UP friends. We celebrated Dhan Teras, Lakshmi Puja and Bhai Bheej with them. Our Gujarati friends had this elaborate puja at home and in their shops late in the evening when the new account books were opened. Years later, my carpenter introduced me to the Viswakarma puja that was a Ganga kinarewala custom. This puja is done in the South on the tenth day of Dussera.

In my own household, my memories of the festival are of battling with the chakli machine to make mixture, mullu murukku, thenkuzhal, and other sweetmeats. The barfi made of coconut was a hit-or-miss affair and the mysore pak would either become 'rockpak' or chana dal halwa. Most often it would end up as balls of fried besan as I would not get the correct consistency that would make it diamond shaped.

I soon gave up on the 'cake scene' and graduated to making 'somasis' or gujjias, the half moon fried stuffed puris. This was made easier by the kind donation of a brass pastry shell cutter by a Delhi friend. The introduction of Gits Gulab Jamun Mixes solved the problem further. The best part was coming back to India and ordering the sweets from professional cooks. I also began a tradition of making dahi wadas on Deepavali day to serve to visitors who were sick of the traditional sweetmeats by then. Till today most people enjoy the cool snack on a harried day.

There is a story I would like to share about my mixture (savoury). My friend Vasantha and I would make the mixture and exchange a container each. My husband would swear that Vasantha's mixture was better and her husband would say that my mixture was tastier. The children of course benefitted from both varieties. No two mixtures ever tastes the same as each family has a tradition about what goes into it. Originally it started off as a concoction of all leftover savouries like sev, boondi, poha, etc. The flavours were enhanced with peanuts, cashew and a good seasoning with mustard, chillies and hing. The popularity of the dish has made it a compulsory item in most households at Deepavali time.

The plates of sweetmeats that were brought to us by relatives and friends were analysed and graded according to content, taste and presentation. Of course during the course of the day all sweetmeats would be dumped into one container and would lose their origins. The amassed sweets were soon distributed with money packets to postmen, corporation cleaners, watchmen, etc who came for Diwali bakshees.

Mumbai introduced us to dry fruit gifts. Boxes would arrive and my husband would promptly send them back or distribute them among the watchmen and workers in the office. Sometimes the empty boxes would be left behind. Over the years I saw the plain cardboard boxes give way to plastic trays and stainless steel containers with compartments to hold multiple items.

Today the market is flooded with crystal and cut glass containers, silver and EPNS containers full of chocolates and expensive goodies that are being grabbed by the corporate junta to give away for favours in return. Professionals are being hired to pack and present sweets and fruits attractively for the season. Even containers are made with a particular theme. Manufacturers like Cadbury and Britannia present chocolates and biscuits in special boxes, jars and trays to grab the eye of the consumer.

The concept of baskets of fruits, and hampers of jams, cheese, biscuits, etc entered the scene in the eighties. We would promptly send these back to the donor or dispatch them to orphanages. In government colonies in Malabar Hills, we have seen all kinds of goods arriving for the officers from various donors. These would range from flowers, fruits and hampers with liquor coyly tucked away, to boxes containing silver and clothes, including readymade garments. Diwali is a time for commercial gifting in Mumbai. But last year I was in Delhi and got a rude shock. The expensive and frenzied gift scene is shocking if not scandalous.

The noise of crackers of course has gone up over the years. In closed areas, with high-rise buildings located cheek by jowl, the continuous sound of twenty to thirty minutes of a string of crackers creates such a cacophony that people can be driven to violence. The diyas too have changed from little earthen lamps to candles, decorative terracotta lamps with Ganeshas and Lakshmis, painted and gilded multiple lamps and electric string lights.

The last few years has seen a change in the attitudes of the people. Many families abstain from ostentation. Money, sweets, clothes are donated to organisations like Ramakrishna Mission Boys Home, Sivananda Ashram, Udavum Karangal, CRY, mobile creches and orphanages. Children have joined together in many schools to vow against crackers as children are used in the cracker manufacturing units, who usually end up with maimed and mutilated hands and eyes. The government too has done its bit by stringently applying rules to control the decibel level and has set time limits for bursting crackers.

A famous shop in Mumbai has introduced the Diwali version of Santa as Chacha Deepak who distributes toys and presents to children coming to their chain of stores. The idea though has not caught up. Malls and shopping centres all over the country are busy enticing the consumer with offers of fabulous prizes. Even TV channels run special Deepavali programmes with the telecast of new movies on TV and release of new movies in theatres attracting the holiday crowds. The trains are full, the planes nearly running to capacity and everybody is going home to celebrate the festival. It is a time of family bonding.

A memorable Diwali was the one we spent in Mauritius when a Tamil padre, Brother Antony, specially sent for us. He wanted me to draw the traditional ma kolam (rangoli) in the church for the special Deepavali service. He said that the festival is one of lights, a celebration of the victory of good over evil. That made it a universal celebration for him. He distributed laddoos and badurshah, mixture and murukku after the service. In today's world of destruction and mayhem that is the Deepavali we should celebrate. Let us light lamps and let it glow in our lives to dispel the darkness of gloom.