Diwali means different things to different people. For a large majority, it is a religious festival, marking the Hindu New Year. For others it’s about new clothes. For yet more people it’s all about the firecrackers and candles.
For me, it’s about family and food. And this Diwali I missed both like crazy. It was my first time away from my folks and the extended family during this noisy and food filled festival. Every year, for as long as I can remember, Diwali meant going to the grandparents home, watching the aunts and mum make yummy treats in the kitchen, decorating the entire house with diyas and candles, stuffing ourselves silly with dry fruits and kaju katlis, and of course, catching up on all the family gossip. Then there is the traditional Diwali dinner, the menu for which has not changed ever – and I’m glad it hasn’t. Diwali is about traditions and no better tradition than food right?
But this year I was at the in-laws for Diwali. And as much as I enjoyed myself, and was surrounded by love, noise and candles, I couldn’t help getting wistful about what my parents and grandmother, and uncle, aunts and cousins must be up to, in another part of the country. And I missed the food. The Marwari in me woke up and started craving typical tastes and familiar flavours. So much so that I actually called dad and asked him what they were feasting on. Sigh.
I think it’s time to grow up and make some new traditions. Or at least acquire some new flavours and Diwali memories.
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