Diwali!

This year is the first since I moved out of my parents' house in Bangalore that I actually did something to celebrate Diwali.

Ever since leaving India and coming to the US, my perception of Diwali has undergone many changes. During my first year here, there was still the excitement, a desire to celebrate as a way of capturing memories associated with Diwali in India, a way to shrug off the homesickness. Also, not to forget, the hope that finally I could get something good to eat without having to pay too much for it, or without having to work at it- the Indian temple at Pittsburgh traditionally has a Diwali 'feast' and the universities nearby arrange for transportation of their poor, car-lacking graduate students.

After that first year though, Diwali became something of a non-issue. Going to Diwali festivals organized by any body- the Temple, or the Graduate Student Associations- became a drag. The time wasted in waiting in long lines for bad food would be much better spent staying at home and watching TV. I would listen to my mom's description of all the fire crackers, clothes and food that they had bought for Diwali. The sheer distance - geographical and emotional- won against any envy I might have felt, and soon I was listening to all these descriptions with mere indulgence.
Marriage made no difference. Last year's Diwali was the first one after my marriage and Ram was in Honduras on a Global Health fellowship. So of course, when I received excited emails and calls from India wishing us a very happy first Diwali, I shrugged and was convinced that the magic of Diwali had completely disappeared.

This year is different, though. Our baby seems strong and reasonably healthy inside me. Both Ram and I are suddenly desperate to embrace everything Indian and everything that we used to love as children. We both want our child to know and love our culture and to know how much festivals like Diwali mean to us, average Indians. And if this means taking a day off from work to plan and prepare for a menu, or waking up early to be able to do the millions of things that are to be done on Diwali day before sun rise, then so be it.

So today, I woke up at 5:30am, cleaned the kitchen counters, the floors and washed the utensils, all the while thinking, if I had been more like mom, I would have done this last night. Then took an oil bath, lit the lamps, drew a rangoli (or what was supposed to be rangoli) outside the house, prayed, kept new clothes for Ram and me to be blessed by God, and cooked. I didn't have to think too much about what to cook- there's a standard formula that my mom has for breakfast on festivals- paruppu sadam, 2 pachadis, one or two veggie karumidus, vadais, rasam, thair sadam and payasam. I felt I could easily manage a shorter version. So I made the paruppu, mango pachadi, kosambri, applams, thair sadam and payasam- all by 8:45am!!

Then, feeling like an accomplished Tamizh maami, I sat, like my Perima would, at the window of the house, looking out at the world, waiting for the man to return from his overnight call at the hospital.

After he bathes and eats, we will go to the temple, just like we used to in India (but no need to dodge the fire crackers on the road) and we will come back and take a long, long nap.

What else is Diwali but the chance to eat well and dress well and sleep well?