Diwali. Ah yes, the festival of lights, all bright and wonderful, the time when every home across India glows with lamps, diyas, LED and fancy lights alike, families coming together, and the night sky is illuminated with fireworks. For most of us, Diwali has always been synonymous with joy, abundance, and togetherness. But what about those for whom this light is just a distant dream? Shouldn’t they also celebrate Diwali the way we all do? This question has resonated deeply with me over the years, especially during two personal experiences that opened my eyes to the real essence of this festival.
A few years back, I had spent my vacations in October, celebrating Dussehra and Diwali at my grandparents’ place in Jammu. For many days even before Diwali, The noises of crackers resounded through the streets, and the aroma of festive snacks like samosas, kachoris, chaats and sweets like gulab jamuns, rasgullas, laddus filled the air. It was a lively evening in the colony where we lived. I saw a gathering of children on the streets—from young toddlers to teenagers—while I was strolling through the area. They were gathered together, yelling joyfully and pointing up at the sky that was filled with fireworks they couldn’t afford. In between they would mumble how they wished they could light some crackers and deck their homes like the rest of the colony people had done.