"Ganga snaanam aacha?" - of Diwalis past.

"Ganga snaanam aacha?" That's the greeting on Diwali that I'm more familiar with, from family (more specifically, the Paati/grandmother category). Appropriate amount of fear and caution surrounded the answer to that question, depending on the time it was asked, how cold the weather was (because as we know, time taken to get off the bed on a wintery morning is inversely proportional to the temperature), and what the status of the ganga snaanam was. The time had to be respectably early in the morning so as to not disappoint Paati(s). 

Before you search for translations and get something as random as the above - it means "Have you had your Ganges bath yet?" or a more meaningful translation would be, "Have you had your ritual, oil-on-head, cleansing bath specific to traditions on Diwali yet?"

I'm Tamil, and my family's Deepavali celebrations have obviously differed from those more typical in a north Indian city like Chandigarh or even Delhi. For starters, it is an affair of the morning. Really, really early in the morning, to be specific. We have an "oil bath", referred to as the ganga snaanam. The ganga doesn't flow close to our home state and I've no idea why it is called that - possibly to signify purification. And whenever I've used the convenient sounding phrase, "oil bath", north Indian friends have always conjured up an image of a bucket full of oil. I can understand why that would not seem appealing. But really, it's more symbolic - or at least it probably trickled down (haha) to becoming merely symbolic for my generation. The eldest person in the house would dab a bit of oil on everyone's head. Definite grounds for washing hair. And then we were handed new clothes to wear for the day. And calls inquiring the status of Ganga Snaanam would begin - and depending on your luck, you wouldn't have to ... manipulate the truth, while resisting the urge to question your Paati if she had had her's yet.  

What Diwali mornings have looked like from as far back as I can remember.

After that, it was all about the food and meeting people. 

Living in Chandigarh meant we were away from Thathas (grandfathers) and Paatis and most extended family. Our yearly custom involved visiting Radhu Athai (Aunt) and Balu Uncle and the Paatis at their home (framily - friends of the family who made up our extended family in Chandigarh). Wearing new new clothes, we went to visit them. And to eat breakfast. To do namaskaarams, and receive blessings in the form of money, heheh. Easiest cash ever. 

Since we lived in Chandigarh and not Chennai, it didn't make sense to burst crackers at dawn (as one would in the home state). So my brother and I would wait for the evening, and our neighbors. Appa used to do this dance like thing when we burst the chakri. I used to be horrified by his guts, scared for him but also fascinated at the same time. In one of the neighborhoods we lived in, I had a whole group of friends. We would pool in crackers and burst them together. I didn't understand the fascination with bombs. Anars, chakris, fuljhaddis and even something as strange as snakes (this particular "firework" conjured up snake like ... things from the ground when we lit it up) were enough to get me excited. 

We didn't have any puja or a tradition of playing cards and the like at home and so, for years, I couldn't grasp the concept of waiting till pujas were over at all my friends' houses. For it felt like an exceptionally long day, what with the early start. 

As for the food - apart from a heavy breakfast and an equally heavy lunch, bakshanams (namkeens) and sweets dominated the day. At any point, you could hear someone munching on them. Ribbon pakoda, cheedai, mixture, thattai, muruku, adirasam, badusha, laddoo, among others. I am also a fan of diwali davai/marundu or legiyam. Judge me all you want but it helps with digestion and is therefore, specially handy on Diwali.  

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Some years, Diwali would fall on the same day as my birthday. It would mean a subdued birthday, with lessened expectations of people remembering my birthday altogether. But the consolation, as I was often told to think of it as, was that the country was celebrating it. 

Some years, we would go to watch the "Diwali release". I'm not going to divulge which unfortunate choices were made some years. 

In 2002, this article came about our family. It has been 14 years, but I still take offence to "and yes, though her daughter loves making the rangoli, as far as the gifts are concerned, instead of the traditional pavadai (silk sari), she prefers getting capris and skirts." I LIKED PAVADAIS! Also, I still find it rude to see that my parents couldn't give them a family photo with me in it. Now that I have set the record straight... 

We moved into an apartments complex in 2002. I was new there and took a while to make friends. Traditions for me as a 10 year old were falling apart. And also, out of some sense of responsibility to not contribute to pollution, I stopped bursting crackers. 

One year, we weren't celebrating Diwali due to a death in the family. Instead, Mahima (cousin/friend) and I sat on our 5th floor balcony. Armed with some coca-cola, we watched other people burst fireworks and see the hills light up (the balcony was one with a view of the Shiwalik range of the Himalayas). Sense of responsibility, couple with a view of fireworks being displayed, new traditions began for me. I also began taking interest in decorating our house with candles and diyas and flowers. 

Diwali didn't differ too much after moving to Delhi. I still haven't attended any Diwali/card parties till date - more for lack of invitations *hint hint*. But apart from decorating my home, we still meet friends and family. And food still plays a sizeable role in the day. 

Last year's Diwali was memorable. It fell a couple of days before my birthday. We were in Madras to spend time with family - Kala Chitti was back from the hospital. It panned out well, spending time with family, food... Archita and I drove around in Velachery (significant only for the two of us). And there were surprise advance birthday celebrations for me! 

But this Diwali... more precisely, yesterday, was the least Diwali-like Diwali we have ever had. There were no plans to "celebrate", Chitti isn't around. I'm sure she would want us to. But it didn't feel like there was anything to celebrate. I didn't hear the words "ganga snaanam". Instead, we binge-watched The Good Wife and shared a laddoo and some home-made ribbon pakodas, as I coughed away.