It's my second Diwali in India in the last two years. I am afraid I am just not feelin' it.
My memories of Diwali are from over thirty years ago. They were the Tamizh Deepavalis of my childhood in Ramakrishnapuram, the South Indian enclave in New Delhi. These were frenzied, magical affairs that took place in the pre-dawn darkness, not the leisurely evening celebrations of our North Indian neighbors. I remember the signature smells: the scent of the oil that mom applied on our heads for an early morning oil bath; the smell of the coal burning in our water boiler (yes, I am that old); the aroma of phosphorus-laden firecracker fumes. Sometimes we had relatives visiting, so bathroom queues moved slower than US green card applications. There was a limited budget for (fire)crackers, and one had to optimize use of it: shopping was an exciting affair that we looked forward to for the many weeks preceding.
Sleeping was difficult the night before: in part it was the anticipation, and in part it was the scary thought that the whole family might just sleep through the thing, and wake up after dawn. (As we've all observed about so many other things much of the pleasure is in the build up.) Then the rounds of sharing sweets and snacks with the neighbors, and the visit to the Shiv Mandir for darshan and, of course, for their superb lemon-colored, sweet and sour boondis. And, finally, that sad, empty feeling from the realization that there was going to be a year's wait before the next one.
Now, as I walk down the street in Bengaluru dodging the fire crackers -- the anaars and the bombs -- I can't help but notice that this feels like a much more subdued affair. No Beirut, this. Diwali is going green, everyone says. I think it's a great idea, but for me, sadly, it's turning colorless. May be I can't feel the excitement because I am witnessing this from the wrong perch: no small children, no crowded household. Perhaps, my mind has built up the nostalgia well beyond the romance of the original thing. Most likely, it's all in the mind: you can have a fifty-year old body, but if you want a colorful, spirited Diwali you can't carry around a fifty-year old mind.
