Is Diwali Still the Same as It Was in Childhood?

As Diwali approaches each year, I can’t help but reflect on how this festival has evolved in my life—from being a wide-eyed child eagerly waiting for the biggest fireworks, to now, where it feels like the essence of Diwali is more about quiet joy and reflection than anything else.

When I was a kid, Diwali meant one thing: patakhe. I used to think, "Just wait until I'm in 10th grade—then I'll be old enough to burst the big crackers!" Every year was a countdown to being "grown up" enough to do more. I thought once I reached certain milestones, whether it was 10th, 12th, or finally getting a job, I'd celebrate Diwali the way I always dreamed—by buying loads of crackers and having the most spectacular celebration.

But as the years passed, things didn’t go exactly as planned. Sure, when I reached 12th grade, I burst a few more crackers than before, but nothing monumental changed. Then, I thought, "Once I graduate and start earning, I’ll really go all out." But when that time came, my priorities had already shifted. I found myself spending on other things—lights, clothes, gifts for loved ones—and suddenly, crackers didn’t seem that important anymore.

Fast forward five years into my career, and Diwali had turned into something much more understated. Responsibilities increased, and with them came a sense of practicality. Crackers seemed less essential, and honestly, with all the talk of pollution and bans, my excitement for them had faded. It made me realize something important: we spend our childhood dreaming of "growing up," but in the process, we start losing touch with the little joys we once treasured.

I used to think that when I got older, I'd finally experience Diwali the way I always wanted to. But the truth is, adulthood changes how we experience everything—including Diwali. The magic of the festival is still there, but it transforms from the excitement of fireworks to the warmth of lighting diyas with family, from bursting crackers to sharing sweets with loved ones.

And now, as I look back, I realize that what once seemed like the ultimate Diwali—filled with the loudest crackers and the brightest lights—was actually just a part of the bigger picture. The real celebration is in the togetherness, in honoring traditions, and in passing that joy on to the next generation.

My childhood may not come back, but now I understand that it's not about reliving the past—it's about creating new memories, especially for those who will one day look up to us the way we looked up to our parents. I see now that my parents did everything they could to make our Diwali special, even if it meant putting their own desires aside. They made sure we were happy, and now it’s our turn to do the same for them and for our children.

So, this Diwali, let’s do something special for our parents, just like they did for us. Let’s make their Diwali magical, because one day, we'll be doing the same for our own children. We were once kids too, full of dreams and excitement. Let’s make sure that spirit of joy continues to live on, in ways that truly matter.

Happy Diwali!