I can actually remember a time when all the neighbours got together with a bulging bag of fireworks and started celebrations even a few days before Deepavali. On the actual day, of course, the senior citizens and the really lazy got up at the crack of dawn, while everyone else woke up at four-thirty and stumbled, sleepy-eyed, downstairs to light up the mandatory flowerpots and 'changu chakkaram', an activity shared by the entire community. 'Vedis' were the province of boys, and in my case, my mother, while my sister and I were given the important task of ensuring the candle didn't blow out. On Deepavali, the candle and matches are the most important tools : that is the first thing you learn.
After two hours of this everyone would lay claim to bathrooms for the oil bath and the exciting part, wearing new clothes. The telephone never stopped ringing, and often it was the only time in the whole year when all family members in different parts of the world could be contacted.
Sweets and crackers were shared with everyone who came to our neighbourhood. I remember one time when the children of the dhobi stood shyly a little distance from all the laughter and crackle, and we invited them to join us, stuffing sparklers and other firecrackers in their hands. All of us children had so much fun, competing with each other to light the highest flowerpots or the most exotic crackers or the most number of them at minimum speed. Of course, lighting crackers could only be done at dawn or late into the evening. The bulk of the day was given to the most important Deepavali tradition : watching the special Deepavali programs on TV.
These included a Rajinikanth movie(mandatory), and a Kamal Hassan one, with any combination of other major actors. If I've seen 'Padayappa' once, I've seen it a hundred times (as every true-blue Tamilian must have done) as well as Tenali, Vasool Raja MBBS (any day better than the Hindi version, say what you will) and Pammal K Sambandham. There was no studying the whole day, of course, just rotting on sweets and TV. It was utterly ruining, not just for us but the environment apparently, and it was the greatest fun ever. Except, perhaps, Navaratri and Pongal and many other festivals which are about equally as fun. Navaratri, too, has changed now completely, but that's a different story.
Don't tell my mother, but I actually miss my traditions and I love what bit of my culture there is left. I wish that just for once, everyone can get together and celebrate Deepavali like we used to, without worrying about pollution or anything. I can hear a thousand-walla outside my house, and though I agree with everything said about its hazards and annoying noise, it still somehow represents, I feel, the very spirit of Deepavali.
