Impressions of Light
Imagine a festival-less world. Austere, drab, serious, monotonous…
Even for a die-hard routine lover like me, steeped in practicalities, an occasional festival seems a necessity. It would seem that India’s tryst with festivals is wholesome: they are numerous, colourful, varied and meaningful at different levels. There are austere ones and there are flamboyant ones. There are serious ones and simply fun ones. Those oozing mythology and those moving and merging with the times. Some are pan-Indian, some regional. Most of India’s festivals come with a religious and a social component attached.
Diwali is one such multi –layered, multi-levelled, all India festival. Let us say it has the heady mix of all the attributes of a complete Indian festival. This is a multi sensorial festival with every sense claiming its share of excitement. A vivid recollection is that of Diwali fireworks over Marine Drive, so colourful, so gorgeous. A universal celebration. But perhaps the acrid smell of smoke, the rhythmic and out-of-the-blue bangs of ‘crackers’ and the excitement of seeing a small red and gold cone erupt into a riot of blinding colours are the real ‘personal’ Diwali. What about the eye catching colourful rangolis before every house? The rustle of new silks, the fragrance of flowers and sandalwood, the aroma of sweets cooking…Diwali has everything to tickle the senses. On another plane, while Diwali celebrates relationships it also prescribes material prosperity; it begins the New Year for many Indian communities-with a literal bang .
My most enduring memory is that of traveling by train on a Diwali night. In between patches of pitch darkness and eerie silhouettes, tiny rows of earthen lamps would suddenly appear from nowhere. Illuminated villages succeeded illuminated villages. Imagine a whole –or most of the country-lit up on a moonless night…
My most endearing memory of the festival is the dark green cotton frock with dancing girls on it which I got, after much expectation, trepidation and near despair. Diwali was one occasion we kids looked forward to; that was such a magnificent coming together of the best of life: it was dress, sweets, cousins and holidays-train travel in perspective-wow! Grandma’s narration of Krishna’s purposeful killing of the demon Narakaasura inspired awe and total belief. So many rituals supplemented and completed it. At the end of the highly exciting day, the green frock was removed, folded back fondly and put away. Peace descended.
A wholesome simplicity, or a simple Whole.
Time changes needs; time simplifies goals, time complicates perceptions.
As I idly go by in hoardings-enriched Chennai, I see Diwali splashed all over: Diwali blast-of the shopping variety, Diwali Dhamaka-more shopping, Diwali offers…in tune with the changing times from small ‘time pieces’ to DVD players and imported diamond jewellery sets…My English friend says he knows Diwali; so does my American friend; it is celebrated among Parisian Indians…with no doubt a French touch. Diwali gifts have metamorphosed too. Cadbury Celebrations vies with tradition; a trip abroad makes as good a corporate ‘gift’ as the traditional silver coin. Earthen lamps have yielded to blinking rows of coloured bulbs; the awareness about noise pollution and the unfailing warnings for safe celebration have watered down the enthusiasm of yore. Childhood itself is perhaps critically short lived now, like the ignited ‘chakras’ which described a couple of magical, brilliant ellipses before becoming a heap of ash.
Are my thoughts going elliptical too? I have only tried to get to the essence of the complex and multifaceted Mother of Indian festivals. Through a powerful combination of mythology, rituals, veneration, liberal splurging and sensual delights, Diwali is the celebration of all that makes life worthwhile: like all aspects of the hindu way of life, this festival puts in relief that which one is equipped to perceive and cherish-the Transient, the Temporal or/ and the Transcendent and Perennial.
Even for a die-hard routine lover like me, steeped in practicalities, an occasional festival seems a necessity. It would seem that India’s tryst with festivals is wholesome: they are numerous, colourful, varied and meaningful at different levels. There are austere ones and there are flamboyant ones. There are serious ones and simply fun ones. Those oozing mythology and those moving and merging with the times. Some are pan-Indian, some regional. Most of India’s festivals come with a religious and a social component attached.
Diwali is one such multi –layered, multi-levelled, all India festival. Let us say it has the heady mix of all the attributes of a complete Indian festival. This is a multi sensorial festival with every sense claiming its share of excitement. A vivid recollection is that of Diwali fireworks over Marine Drive, so colourful, so gorgeous. A universal celebration. But perhaps the acrid smell of smoke, the rhythmic and out-of-the-blue bangs of ‘crackers’ and the excitement of seeing a small red and gold cone erupt into a riot of blinding colours are the real ‘personal’ Diwali. What about the eye catching colourful rangolis before every house? The rustle of new silks, the fragrance of flowers and sandalwood, the aroma of sweets cooking…Diwali has everything to tickle the senses. On another plane, while Diwali celebrates relationships it also prescribes material prosperity; it begins the New Year for many Indian communities-with a literal bang .
My most enduring memory is that of traveling by train on a Diwali night. In between patches of pitch darkness and eerie silhouettes, tiny rows of earthen lamps would suddenly appear from nowhere. Illuminated villages succeeded illuminated villages. Imagine a whole –or most of the country-lit up on a moonless night…
My most endearing memory of the festival is the dark green cotton frock with dancing girls on it which I got, after much expectation, trepidation and near despair. Diwali was one occasion we kids looked forward to; that was such a magnificent coming together of the best of life: it was dress, sweets, cousins and holidays-train travel in perspective-wow! Grandma’s narration of Krishna’s purposeful killing of the demon Narakaasura inspired awe and total belief. So many rituals supplemented and completed it. At the end of the highly exciting day, the green frock was removed, folded back fondly and put away. Peace descended.
A wholesome simplicity, or a simple Whole.
Time changes needs; time simplifies goals, time complicates perceptions.
As I idly go by in hoardings-enriched Chennai, I see Diwali splashed all over: Diwali blast-of the shopping variety, Diwali Dhamaka-more shopping, Diwali offers…in tune with the changing times from small ‘time pieces’ to DVD players and imported diamond jewellery sets…My English friend says he knows Diwali; so does my American friend; it is celebrated among Parisian Indians…with no doubt a French touch. Diwali gifts have metamorphosed too. Cadbury Celebrations vies with tradition; a trip abroad makes as good a corporate ‘gift’ as the traditional silver coin. Earthen lamps have yielded to blinking rows of coloured bulbs; the awareness about noise pollution and the unfailing warnings for safe celebration have watered down the enthusiasm of yore. Childhood itself is perhaps critically short lived now, like the ignited ‘chakras’ which described a couple of magical, brilliant ellipses before becoming a heap of ash.
Are my thoughts going elliptical too? I have only tried to get to the essence of the complex and multifaceted Mother of Indian festivals. Through a powerful combination of mythology, rituals, veneration, liberal splurging and sensual delights, Diwali is the celebration of all that makes life worthwhile: like all aspects of the hindu way of life, this festival puts in relief that which one is equipped to perceive and cherish-the Transient, the Temporal or/ and the Transcendent and Perennial.
posted by meera @ 9:47 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home