Festival of Lights

The "Indian" me is feeling very nostalgic. It is because the celebration of Diwali makes me feel this way sometimes, especially here in Montreal where I have very few Indian friends.


Diwali is an Indian festival. One might ask why a Catholic like me finds this important, but I find joy in celebrating festivals of other beliefs and religions, and I do not think it goes contrary to my own beliefs. I wished my friends Happy Eid after they finished Ramadan, and they did not ask why I was saying this despite the fact I was not Muslim.


For Indians, the festival of lights, as Diwali is also called is the time to celebrate the victory of good over evil. The significance of lights is in the fact that it illuminates one's way through the darkness. Tiny clay lamps called diyas are lit in homes to usher in abundance, prosperity and peace and to ward off evil.

I remember my first Diwali party in the Philippines. It was at the home of cousins of a very good Indian friend, and practically the whole Indian community was there, many of them Bengalis. We had food, sweets like homemade carrot halwa, laddoos, barfi, gulab jamuns. There were fireworks as well! I especially enjoyed putting out the diyas in the garden and lighting them. There is something about the flickering light of tiny lamps in a wide space that is so beautiful and exudes an aura of peace. I recall that this was how it made me feel.

My daughter Kristina was around 5 years old at that time. She was asking me why we were having fireworks in November, and I was explaining to her somehow what the significance of this was. This was probably all lost to her, but she had fun with kids her age and they stuffed themselves with all the sweets and snacks that were available.


There was a time when an old friend gifted me with a beautifully carved clay elephant, that had diyas around it. It was such a lovely, delicate thing, and I was so happy with this special gift and put it in a prominent place in the house until one day my daughters were playing around and accidentally hit the shelf where this was and it fell into pieces on the ground. I picked up the clay bits with tears in my eyes.


The last time I celebrated Diwali was two years ago, it was with a special someone. Instead of going out to a party, I just lit votive candles outside in his balcony, while we could hear the fireworks in the background. Then we just sat quietly together watching the lights and shared a glass of wine. That was pretty special to me, and I look forward to another opportunity to do this!

So tonight at home, I will light the candles in the living room, burn some incense, and sit quietly for a few moments to let the positive energy flow, to meditate on how life has been good, very good, and hope for blessings that it continues to be happy, peaceful and full of love. I will also imagine how nice it would be sitting around the table with my friends, eat some nice hot jelabis with a cold glass of lassi, which I could get if I was in Dilli! Ahh!

To all my Indian friends, Happy Diwali, and may peace, love, and prosperity be yours not only this time, but always!