I am allowed to get all sappy and homesick for India today no?
An earthen lamp was sourced and dutifully lit. We also very dutifully stuffed ourselves with food. The whole idea of a Tamil Deepawali is that you wake up before the crack of dawn, oil your hair and wash it, eat to glory and back.
And then, at about 11 30 AM, the stupor of an oil bath and a full belly hits you, and you prepare yourself for a lovely postprandial nap. Your stomach so full that you can just about barely balance your stomach. You can’t even turn to one side and sleep. You must delicate hold your full stomach as you lie motionless on your back. Before you know it, your eyes are shut and you let out soft snores. Anyone who claims they don’t snore on Diwali are lying. Seriously.
You wake up in time to catch a “Deepawali Spesshull” film on the television, and if digestion was successful, you bravely venture out. Wake yourself with lots of filter coffee. Sitting here, getting ready to go to class – I miss the wonder of the postprandial nap.
In school, around Diwali we were forced to write essays on “Diwali Ka Mahatva” (The Importance/ Essence) of Diwali. I would get unusually creative, and try to imagine the North Indian Diwali. The essay would be along these lines
- Diwali is an important festival.
- We light crackers.
- We “exchange” gifts with relatives and friends.
- We pray to Goddess Lakshmi to make us filthy rich.
- We pretend not to notice all the bonhomie filled gambling parties.
- We wear new clothes that no longer fit us because we eat too much.
My essays were always laughter inducing. For some reason I remember this particular episode when we were asked to write about wedding rituals that one’s community followed. In my enthusiasm I wrote “The bride and groom exchange clothes”. Of course, what I meant that the groom and bride are given gifts of new clothes by the other family. My class teacher began to giggle when she saw that, probably imaging a debauchery filled Iyer wedding where people exchanged clothes and a cross-dressing gala ensued. I went red in the face and quickly corrected my essay. Phew!
Diwali morning is never complete in my house without idlis for breakfast.
Waking up at the crack of dawn? Oiled hair? New sari? Check, check, check. :)
(Now that I come to think of it – I cannot remember the last Diwali I spent in India. Strangely, only the smell of sparkly fire-sticks lingers in the mind.)
Hope you have a wonderful Diwali, even in London :)
Died laughing at the response to your essay.
Trust you to make an Iyer wedding seem radical:)
Have an appy and wonderful Diwali in Londhonji.
Really Hilarious! Will think twice before attending an Iyer wedding now!
Nice post!
The “exchanging clothes” part was really funny, hahaha!!
Vi: Believe it or not – I almost miss the thick sulphur dioxide smog that comes with every Diwali, urging me to hang on to all my inhalers. The things nostalgia does to us, I tell you.
dipali: At that point I was just so embarrassed. Bad enough being the only Tam in class, and to add to that – making a rather boring wedding sound like that!
AA Mom: I assure you. We are all rather well dressed from head to toe.
Vasuki: :)