Diwali was not always about the finest ethnic wear from Manyavar, boxes of sweets from the branded stores, or clicking a flame from different angles for the perfect snap for Instagram. For a long time in childhood, 'Diwali Ghar' - a miniature clay house, 'Pancha-Pradip' - an idol of a lady carrying five diyas on her head, crackers - mostly flowerpots, spark sticks, and whirligigs, and the gathering of cousins at a single place, defined the happiness on Diwalis.
While the mornings were dedicated to buying crackers, the afternoons of the week before Diwali were spent in architecting the Diwali Ghar in the courtyard, laying the bricks with tiny hands, coating the house with clay, and fixing matchsticks on the windows, striving to make the house look as close to a real one as possible. Sitting under a blanket of stars scattered in the sky and humming our favorite songs while relishing over homemade sweets and savories ended the nights for the tired souls. And, on the eve of Diwali when one-third of the crackers had already been exhausted, we painted the Diwali Ghar and decked it with diyas. In the mud and the paint, we found joy; In the fireworks in the sky and the comfort of togetherness, we made memories.
Today, when I stand on my balcony and look up at the fireworks against the night sky, I wish there are four kids somewhere, cherishing the moment, who do not care about the clothes they wear, the mud on their feet, or the paint on their hands, yet silently making memories that would last for a lifetime.
