Diwali Through My Eyes

Diyas decorated by my son. 2023 Diwali.

A week before Diwali sitting by the pool, watching my son swim, I caught the smell of firecrackers being bursted by a boy nearby. Strangely enough, the nostalgia of the familiar gunpowder burning smell, pulled my heartstrings, taking me on a journey down memory lane. I’ve always loved that smell, not for what it was, but for the flood of memories it brought with it. Diwali has always been a cherished part of my childhood, rich in colors, lights, and the warmth of togetherness.

Growing up in New India Colony, every Indian festival was filled with excitement and a sense of community. One of the most cherished memories was the preparation of Diwali sweets. My mom would take my sister and me to help our neighbors in their kitchen, where we joined many others in making traditional Diwali sweets, known as faral. It wasn’t just about the sweets, but the coming together of 3-4 kaakis or aunties, all gathering in one kitchen, laughing, chatting, and working together. The atmosphere was warm and joyous, with the sweet aroma of freshly made besan laddus, karanjis, and chaklis filling the air.

I was never quite as skilled as my sister, especially when it came to rolling for karanji—it somehow never turn out perfectly round for me, and Mom had to step in to fix it. For us kids, it was a fun learning experience—getting our hands sticky with dough and sneaking a taste of the sweets when no one was looking. 

On Diwali day, the colony transformed into a magical place. The colorful kandils (lanterns) hanging from each balcony filled the night with their warm, vibrant glow, casting festive light over everything around. Outside every door, intricate rangolis adorned the ground, with each one more stunning than the last. But the one outside Suvarna aunty’s door was always my favorite. It was so perfectly crafted, with every line and color precisely in place, almost too perfect to believe.

One Diwali, I stood in awe, admiring the beauty of Suvarna aunty’s rangoli, when one of my older friends decided to pull a prank. They teasingly said it was just a sticker and that I should touch it to see for myself. Curious and hesitant, I was just about to reach out when, to my surprise, Suvarna aunty, who had been quietly listening from behind her door, swung it open and stopped me just in time. My friends, in their cleverness, quickly tried to pin the blame on me. But Suvarna aunty, with a knowing smile, came to my rescue, gently putting the pranksters in their place.

And then, of course, there was the eagerly awaited faral plate! Just thinking about it still brings a smile to my face—each plate was like a treasure box of Diwali sweets and snacks. 

Image from Indiamart.

There were besan laddoos, rava laddoos, karanjis, shankarpalis, chaklis, gaatya, and so much love, all neatly arranged in steel plates, lovingly covered with delicate crochet lace. These plates came from our neighbors, who were no less than family—Aunties Loke, Terwankar, Tendulkar, Pendnekar, Mohan, Mendon—and many more. The door of our house was open all day. One by one, the plates would come filling the house with the sweet aroma of Diwali.

As kids, we were always thrilled to burst the “junior” crackers: sursuri, chakras, pous (flowerpots), cracker guns and the black snake tablet. 

Diwali celebration 2023

Snake tablet packet (from Google images) 

We’d watch in awe as the older kids confidently handled the louder, more intimidating fireworks.

Now that I’m married and have a home of my own, some traditions remain unchanged, and I cherish them even more. I never miss drawing a rangoli outside my flat during Diwali. It’s a small but significant way of staying connected to the joy of my childhood. If we’re in town, we also put up a kandil and light diyas, filling the house with that familiar, festive glow.

Diwali 2022

Diwali for me is a symbol of community—the kind that brings neighbors together in shared kitchens, over trays of sweets, and through heartfelt exchanges. It represents the richness of memories—those of childhood, when festivals meant laughter, pranks, and a constant buzz of excitement.

Diwali, for me, transcends boundaries and religions. It’s a reminder that no matter our faith, we all have the capacity to celebrate the light within us, to share joy and love with those around us.

Wishing you and your family a very happy Diwali, filled with light, love, and laughter!

Diwali 2023

 🙏 

Sharon Lasrado