Waking up to a Diwali morning

The fragrance of jasmine, roses and champaka flowers gently waft through the sandalwood incense, mixing and mingling on the way with the aroma of cooking in the kitchen, slowly drifting up to the bedrooms….

You lie there pleasantly awake but not fully so, wondering whether you are still dreaming… the gently tinkling sound of pooja bells bringing you to reality….

It is Diwali.

This is how we woke up to Diwali when we were young. Soon Mother would be next to the bed gently shaking us and whispering, “Time to wake up … have your bath and put on the silk pavadai (skirt) I got you from Madurai and then you can play with the fire crackers….”

We would want to stay in bed a little longer, enjoying the drifting fragrances for a little while, but we didn’t want to miss on dressing up, being with the other children, laughing and playing with the fire crackers, making sure our new dress did not go unnoticed by our friends….. well, it was Diwali!

We would soon find ourselves in the bathroom, a little towel around our middles… Mother would take some warm oil in her cupped palm… her mouth moving as she uttered the morning prayers. We watched her face for a while and then bent down as she gave our head a little push before she placed the oil on the crown and massaged it in circles… now we would be sleepy again, but we didn’t want to be sleepy…

It was Diwali!

The smell of oil, and the shikakai powder that removed and washed it off, made us feel clean and fresh. We would rush to the prayer room, draped in a dry towel. Prayers, first; then, a little bit of the Diwali medicine Mother would have kept at the altar… it tasted good, strange but good… it was sweet yet a little bitter, a little sour, a little tangy … yet it signified something. (Which Mother explained once we grew up to understand: one must learn to accept all - every taste that you may be exposed to - and find a balance). As we brought our palms together in prayer for all good things, my own thoughts would go to the presents the relatives would bring around - mostly token amounts of money, and of course packets of fireworks - and that would make me happy.

Next would be the most exciting part of the get this really good silk skirt and blouse. But usually, Father and Mother would plan months ahead to get us the best. “Pattu Pavadai” (pure silk skirt) was expensive and for middle class consumers like my parents it came with great effort and made it really special. Somehow their love and caring passion towards dressing us up in our best became woven with the dresses themselves, and when I think back, whatever money I spend on my own designer sarees these days does not make me feel as happy and secure as those Diwali mornings when I was lovingly dressed by my parents… That was Diwali.

Today, I see it in a foreign land, celebrating with all my lovely senior friends. It is a sea of ceremony of lighting of lamps and singing of Aarathi by the seniors of RAIN (Resourceful Australian Indian Network). girl in

This year it was held in Timothy Reserve, a park next to the Hurstville Oval. The dressing up seems to be just as important now as it was back then - we have a catwalk by designer Julie Scott. Julie and Roshantha have worked hard modelling the silk dresses specially designed for the occasion by Julie and the silk sarees take the shape of modern dresses in subtle shades and wraps and stolls of rich zari woven Indian silk material.

The programme is highlighted by participating Women’s Interfaith Network (WIN) ladies who ‘Reach out’ to the multicultural audience who enjoy the relaxed atmosphere and great Diwali delicacies. (This was a part of the Discovery festival by the Hurstville City Council and a project by RAIN funded by Penshurst RSL as part of their CDSE funding).

Children eagerly swing their bodies as Gracey from Platinum Indian Entertainment group delights them with Bollywood dancing. The audience clap and cheer as the several Australian children who are at the park, join in the dancing on stage. This was a genuine celebration of intergenerational bonding with the multicultural diversity of Australia shining forth in total harmony.

All of us gathered agreed that this is a truly Australian Diwali.