Mithai, Memories and Magic…

Thursday, November 9, 2023

In the very good old days, I used to not very much look forward to the coming of Deepawali.

I distinctly remember my painful groans and the grumbling.

Onset of Deepawali meant that all the deep cleaning and high-levels of dusting had to be done under the watchful eyes of Mom. Shirking the loads of work was unthinkable, no matter what excuses we tried. Cleaning the kitchen, which meant: all the pots, pans, plates, jars, big vessels, containers and all other crockery had to be removed, washed, cleaned, dried and kept back, ---was a back-breaking 3-day affair, bestowed on me! My elder sis who was taller was in-charge of cleaning the roofs, walls, fans, windows, doors and removing the cobwebs from all corners—using a broom, tied to a long bamboo stick. We argued ceaselessly but could never agree as to whose and which cleaning jobs were more painful.

The one silver lining was that after all the cleaning was done and the house shone and sparkled with fresh sets of curtains, bed-sheets and silk cushion covers, Mom treated us that day with food from the nearby Udupi restaurant. We used to be so happy that day that all the hard-work felt worthwhile then.

From about a week prior to the Deepawali day, Mom would sit with a few other Aunties from the neighborhood and make mithai and namkeen, and the aroma arising out of the kitchen for days together---kept us all beaming with joy and anticipation! Eating the savories before the Diwali day was strictly forbidden. Tricking Mom during her afternoon nap and stealing a laddoo or two from the jars, was out of the question.

We would crave and ache for laying our hands on and greedily gobbling the mithai, even as we would eagerly await from the early morning hours on Diwali day --the coming in of well-covered plates laden with home-made sweets from at least half a dozen households all around. The fights between us—the sisters even got out of hand at times, if both of us did not get the exact same share of every item on the plate. Yes, we were crazy and I, in fact, was more so—for mithai.

Daddy too used to get dozens of mithai boxes from business associates and suppliers/clients etc. While bursting the crackers in the evening, our eyes would always be fixated on the road from where Dad could be seen walking home and as soon as one of us spotted him coming---we would run towards him—wanting to take the load off him.

And then, the magical moments followed the dinner that night---as we opened every box and shrieks of joy and peals of laughter went up on finding all kinds of colorful and delightful mithai in each box.

The enthusiasm and fervor were highly infectious those days. When we made rangolis and lit the diyas, and hung the lanterns---we never thought that we were making memories for the years that would follow. All the houses and all the lanes would get lovelier with the lights and diyas at night. The scene was magical, as if we were transported to a fairyland!!

Today, when I sit down and contemplate, it dawns on me that over the years, the gulping of mithai has considerably lessened. The enthusiasm to open mithai boxes received from friends and neighbors, has dimmed. Now, when Deepawali arrives, the thoughts of mithai do not give that much joy, as the memories of it do! Yes, the memories of mithai, namkeen, rangoli and diyas still have the same magical effect.

Thank God---that during those days, unknowingly and innocently, with our crazy behavior, we made enough memories to last a lifetime.
Then, the mithais were magical and they gave sheer joy. Now, the memories of those days are magical and they give sheer joy…
The magic of Deepawali, thus continues to live on…