A Chawl Diwali: From Vibrant Celebrations to Fading Memories

For 22 years, I experienced the magic of Diwali as a middle-class Maharashtrian child growing up in the Chawl system at Girgoan. Those were the days when Diwali wasn't just a festival; it was a full-blown celebration that embraced our entire community. The Chawl, with its tightly-knit houses, was our world, and Diwali turned it into a glowing, bustling neighborhood of togetherness.

One of the most cherished memories of my childhood Diwali in our chawl was the early morning ritual of Diwali Pahaat. Waking up at 5:30 AM was a big task for us as children, but at the same time, it was something I looked forward to with pure excitement. The entire chawl seemed to wake up together as if the whole world was united in celebrating the first light of Diwali. The chill in the air was refreshing, almost as if the morning itself was dressed for the festival.

I remember the faint but unmistakable scent of Agarbattis (incense sticks) mixing with the lingering smoke from the crackers we had burst the night before. It created an atmosphere that can only be described as magical, with comforting smells and the cool breeze gently sweeping through the chawl. The streets outside were unusually quiet, but it was a comforting silence, the kind that promised a day filled with joy.

In our home, the Diwali Pahaat began with my mother’s wake-up call. My brother and I would slowly open our eyes, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, but eager to jump out of bed. My mother, with her traditional Maharashtrian saree draped perfectly, had already been up for a while, preparing for the morning. Her face glowed, not just from the early light, but from the sheer joy of keeping the tradition alive for her family.

The first task of the day was the Utna massage, a Diwali ritual that felt like both a chore and a gift. My mother would gently rub utna, a fragrant herbal paste, onto our skin, massaging it with care and love. It was said to cleanse the body and remove all impurities, a symbolic purification for the new year. My brother and I would grumble at times, but secretly, we loved the pampering it was the one constant in our Diwali celebrations for all 22 years, a comforting tradition that never faded.

As the first day of Diwali began, excitement filled the air. After we dressed up, the thrill of fireworks became our next highlight. It was such a joy to see every family in our neighborhood come together, along with my friends, to celebrate. Each year, we had a friendly competition to see whose fireworks were the most unique. From the smallest phooljhadis to the loud sutli bombs, we couldn't wait for evening to come. The whole community would gather in the common courtyard, lighting fireworks one by one, filled with cheers and laughter. The elders watched with smiles, some joining in, while others enjoyed the show from their verandas. In those moments, it was about more than just the bright lights; it was the feeling of togetherness that made our Diwali truly special, creating memories I cherish to this day.

One of the most enchanting aspects of Diwali in our chawl was the tradition of creating rangolis. I can vividly picture my mother, clad in her colorful dresses, sitting cross-legged with other ladies in the common courtyard. Their laughter echoed around us as they gathered in evening, armed with colorful powders, flowers, and their boundless creativity. The atmosphere was infused with a sense of excitement, as they shared tips, stories, and, of course, delicious treats.

Diwali wasn't Diwali without the faral, the special homemade delicacies prepared by every household. In our Chawl, it was an unspoken rule that every family would make their share of faral, and then exchange plates with neighbors. Chaklis, karanjis, shankarpalis, anarsas, Chiwada, and the list of mouth-watering treats was endless.

What made faral making special was how communal it felt. My mother, along with the other women from the chawl, would gather, sitting on low stools with big containers of ingredients. There was laughter, and gossip, as they made these festive treats together. I remember the preparations for Diwali faral happened one week before Diwali, being a curious child, watching them making fresh faral for Diwali, and sneaking a few freshly made sweets whenever I could.

Diwali evenings were spent visiting each other’s homes, lighting lamps, and sharing stories. Even we as childrens would run from one house to another, tasting sweets and showing off new clothes. The elders would sit together and reminisce about Diwalis gone by. Every corner of the chawl echoed with the sounds of laughter, conversation, joy and fireworks. The bonds we shared with our neighbors made Diwali more meaningful.

Diwali in Chawl was more than just a festival; it was an experience, a time when our chawl came alive with light, laughter, and love. What made the experience truly special was the sense of togetherness. The streets weren't just a backdrop for the festival; they were the heart of it. Everyone celebrated Diwali not just within their homes but out in the open, with neighbors, friends, and even strangers exchanging smiles and "Shubh Dipawali" wishes. 

One of the most beautiful aspects of celebrating Diwali in a chawl was the sense of extended family. Diwali in Chawl wasn’t limited to the four walls of our home; it extended into every home in the chawl. We lived with doors open, literally and metaphorically. Neighbors were not just acquaintances; they were part of every celebration, every joy, and even every setback.

As I reflect on my cherished memories of Diwali in the chawl, it’s bittersweet to acknowledge how the vibrant celebrations of yesteryears have faded into quieter times. I am sure my other friends may also think the same who have experienced their childhood in Chawl and have celebrated Diwali, which is more sentimental for them now. The once-bustling streets, filled with the joyous laughter of children and the rhythmic bursts of fireworks, now echo with a profound silence.

As we move through the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, it’s easy to lose sight of the magic that once enveloped our Diwali celebrations. The demands of work, studies, and personal responsibilities often pull us in different directions, leaving little room for the communal joy that defined our childhood festivities.

In the whirlwind of modern life, we find ourselves caught in a relentless chase often too preoccupied to connect with our neighbors or partake in the age-old traditions that brought us together. The vibrant gatherings that once lit up our evenings have been replaced by quieter, more solitary moments. As we juggle our commitments, the essence of Diwali, with its promise of togetherness and joy, can feel like a distant memory. 

Yet, in the midst of our busy lives, I can’t help but crave for those shared experiences the laughter, the sweets, the communal spirit that turned our Chawl into a festival of light and love. While we may be engrossed in our journeys, I believe it’s essential to pause, reflect, and strive to reconnect with the spirit of Diwali, reminding ourselves that amidst the chaos, the true essence of the festival lies in the bonds we forge and the joy we share. 

To many people, whether living in Maharashtra or anywhere else in the world, chawls might seem synonymous with struggles over water pipes, cramped spaces, outdated mindsets, and poverty. However, what often goes unnoticed is the immense joy that fills these communities during festival times. In the midst of these challenges, the spirit of celebration and togetherness shines brightly, reminding us of the true essence of life in the chawl.

Perhaps, one day, the Diwali in Chawl will regain some of its old charm, but for now, those memories remain a precious reminder of what once was.

*** Happy Diwali ***