Thoughts on a collision course: Papa wali Diwali

Festivals are the hardest. They will be for a long time to come, especially when the one person who was the most excited about them isn’t around. Papa during most times was excited to make stuff happen, fix things, make hundred trips to the market - during Diwali, he was another level.

If we reached Mumbai early, we’d also go participate in buying new Torans for the door, in buying new lights if the old “Chinese walein” have given up. We’d definitely be out buying new clothes (this meant dragging him to Inorbit or Seawood and forcing him to buy a new Kurta, then go crazy with our shopping and have him tired by 9 pm, only recharged by that Thali he’d have at the Food Court). Last year we were in Bangalore, so we made a trip to Fabindia and somehow to make him and Vivek twin with Vir's red kurta, we all ended up buying red and looking like a tomato basket in Diwali photos. Sometimes we’d clean (this meant Vivek cleaning the fans and Papa saying next year main Urban clap karwaunga for sofas). We’d sit and open gifts he’d get from office staff and business associates and telling him some maal is pretty blah. Atleast 2 days before Diwali, he and Vivek would be putting up lights on all the balconies and doing multiple dry runs (are the sliding doors shutting, are there any clothes around, how does it look neeche se). Oh, he absolutely loved the lights and the whole process of putting them up with junction boxes, paper clips, etc.

My first Diwali in the family

Then, Diwali day morning would involve a compulsory trip to the market for fresh flowers, rangoli powder (he always knew I had white at home but made me buy extra just in case) and crackers. Oh, the crackers. He’d always say “hum buddhe ho gaye” but at the cracker market, he was a child. He’d ask for 7 shots, bombs and then say Mummy ke liye thode anaar, pencil le lo. We’d then stop by a general store to buy candles - always. Always. Then we’d drive home, sometimes stop to buy fresh kulfis or Naturals icecream, then eat Rajma or Chhole and then pass out.

By 4, it would be time to put the rangoli. A groggy me would wake from my nap to either find Papa standing at the balcony and watching over other houses and their set up or watching something on his tab. He’d then go to make chai and start evening prep while I’d kick Vivek out of bed to help (Yes, equality). Rangoli would be in progress while likely someone came over to visit and was fed Laddoos and Namkeen made at home, while Papa would be watching his watch closely to prepare for evening Puja accordingly. He’d come out every 30 mins, check on the Rangoli and tell me if it was symmetrical, where it was looking good or not. Then, once it was over – it was then time for everyone to scramble and get ready. He’d be sitting putting the wicks on the diyas – He and I were the only ones who’d roll the wicks nicely but of course he had no patience to wait. By the time we’d all get ready, he would then run to the shop nearby and buy fresh, hot jalebis and milk for kaccha doodh and jalebi. We’d then all scramble in the Mandir room and seating arrangements would be sorted – chair for Mummy, our in-house Panditayan, while we would sit on our mattresses and grab a Puja book for the aarti. Papa would diligently do the Aarti while we sang, someone missing one line here or there because the books are different. Then he would pass the Aarti to Vivek to take it to each room and return. Then we would be given money to place in the Mandir and pray, while everyone was eyeing the prasad. The mithai would then be distributed among everyone, in the order of Doodh Jalebi, some Mithai and Layi Pataashe. While we took our picks with the Mithai, Papa would be polishing off 1-2 more bonus jalebis 😊 Last year, we were in Bangalore for the first time for Diwali and he grabbed Vir and held him throughout the Puja, happily singing and showing him the Mandir.

Holding Vir all through Diwali Puja

Then we would light the diyas, place all around the home and then it would be photo time. We’d force him to pose for family photos – heck, once we even made a Diwali wishes video and made him say a few things. Last year was the first time I saw him put his arm around Mummy and say take one picture of the both of us like this. He was just cute in his own way!

Diwali last year and the picture he made me take with his arm around Mummy

And then it would be cracker time! Papa would be the first one to run down with the crackers and set up. Candles would be lit and sparklers would be opened by the time the rest of us reached downstairs. He’d start with one sparkler and then as his diligent assistant, it was my job to make sure a new sparkler was being lit before the dying one would burn out. He’d get angry if there wasn’t a sparkler lit and then grump about a little bit to light a new one – it takes time to light a new one, as you imagine and he had zero patience! I’d send him off saying Jaao bomb jalaa lo tab tak and he’d run with a sparkle in his eye figuring what to burn now. Vivek would be standing on the side with his Mom, then he’d take some sparklers for her and then go light some flowerpots himself. Papa would scoff and say “Chalo bomb le aao, hum jalayenge”. I’ll admit I used to burst bombs with my dad when he was alive, then I stopped after he passed because I was scared to do it alone and my Mom was scared of bombs too. With Papa, I got more brave and would buy stuff that would look so freaky, but I knew he’d light them with me if I chickened out. He always did! He’d save the 7 shots till the end, so we end on a good note – sometimes it wouldn’t burst as wonderfully as the guy selling promised – He’d say “Agli baar yahan se nahi lenge”. Knowing fully well no one remembers who we bought it from if we were told to go the next day even.

This cracker fan!

Then we would finish our stock of crackers, go up and wash up quickly because it was time for dinner! We never ate dinner at home on Diwali day – there was so much to do all day anyway, we would go out for dinner or order in. If we were going out, we’d end up at a restaurant bursting with people and be standing out waiting for a table – He’d make ten trips to the door and be like “Aur kitna time?” and come back and report status. Then we’d get our table and eat like we hadn’t eaten in days, though remember – We have already stuffed ourselves with Rajma or Chhole for lunch!! In the recent few years, it became an added ritual to go drive around the area and see how houses were lit up and then finally also see how the NMMC (Navi Mumbai Municipal Corporation) building was lit up. The last time we were there, it had become so popular, with carts selling food and people sitting on the lawns. He said “Saala ab yahan bhi parking ki fight ho jayegi”. Then we’d pack into the car all tired, after a Diwali well spent. Once, I dragged everyone to an icecream parlor for stone beaten icecreams. He scoffed at the sounds and the beating of the icecream, but eventually he enjoyed his dessert.

One of those trips to NMMC building and a visibly tired Papa

We’d go home and then take a survey of the diyas – which ones survived the wind, which candles went off, which ones are good quality to be bought next time! We’d change and watch KBC, or Bigg Boss (Yes, Mummy and Vivek would make us!) and then look at Whatsapp statuses and photos and see how the others spent Diwali. Papa would go fall asleep first, while the rest of us would soon follow. The next day would be Bhai Dooj generally, when he would be up and ready in the morning in a crisp Kurta pyjama. We’d make Bread rolls and Halwa and the brother and sister would crib about having to have a bath so early in the morning but they wouldn’t be allowed breakfast before the small ritual, so they had to. We’d then do the Tikka and money would be exchanged – He would always keep cash ready and generously part with it. Last year I got to do the Tikka and tie the Mauli for him and I made an earning myself!

Bhaidooj last year

It was a dark Diwali this year without you, Papa. We did dress Vir up in new clothes, I’d have made sure you twin with him in a blue kurta. We did buy Jalebis, but nothing compares to getting doodh jalebi distributed by you after Puja. We did light diyas, unsupervised and it was not fun. We watched others burst crackers and light up their balconies and it broke our hearts – never has an otherwise celebratory explosion of light and color been more painful than yesterday. You made sure I had the most fun Diwalis every year since I came into your family. I do promise that we will do our best to do everything like you used to in the coming Diwalis, so Vir can see Diwali from his Dadu’s eyes. He’ll grow to love crackers and lights like you, be excited like a little child for Diwali forever, like you. I know you’ll be watching from above and wanting to come do something with us because we’re doing it wrong or slow. We wish you could do that too – We miss you sorely, everyone knows it is going to be hard without you, but no one warns you that festivals are going to be the hardest.