The Most Wonderful, Slightly Exhausting Time of the Year

The Four-Month Festive Marathon

The Indian festive season, from Ganesh Chaturthi right through to New Year, is probably my favourite time of the year. It starts with visiting friends’ homes to seek Bappa’s blessings and, more importantly, eat modaks. There is something lovely about this community experience of moving from one home to another, catching up with people and being part of the celebrations.

Then comes Navratri, which, as you can probably tell, is particularly close to my heart. The Devi has always been a source of inspiration for me, personally and through The Unapologetic Devi. Even my name, and the name of this blog, have their roots in that connection. Visiting pandals and eating some truly delicious food are top priorities.

Dussehra is a more homely affair with family, followed by watching my married friends voluntarily starve themselves for their husbands during Karwa Chauth. A concept I will probably never fully comprehend!

And then comes Diwali. Beautiful sarees, glowing homes, an enthusiastic disregard for the diet and a little gambling. It’s the time when everyone dresses up, visits people and spreads a little love.

For someone who has family, but also friends who are as good as family, this is a particularly happy and busy time. My celebrations continue through birthdays, including mine and those of my immediate family, my parents’ anniversary, Christmas and finally New Year. Before you know it, the last four months have disappeared under a cover of parties, good food, mithai and endless gup shup.

A Little Bit of Something Missing

For all the happiness that comes with the season, there is a slightly bittersweet side to it, particularly when you’re a single woman.

I miss companionship a little more around this time of the year. Not because I don’t have people to celebrate with, or because I’m unhappy with the life I have, but because seeing married friends celebrate with their partners can sometimes bring a small twinge of something missing.

It’s not envy. I’m genuinely happy for them. But there is a difference between enjoying your own life and occasionally wishing you had someone to share certain moments with. The festive season, with its emphasis on togetherness, makes that feeling a little harder to ignore.

The Work We Inherit

There is another side to the festive season that I think most women, single or married, will recognise: the sheer amount of work that goes into making a home festive-ready.

A lot of what goes into these preparations is tradition passed down through generations. The Diwali ki safai, the endless lists, the menu planning, the gifts and the elaborate preparations are things many of us have grown up watching the women in our families do. Some of it is almost ritualistic. But somewhere between carrying on traditions and keeping up with expectations, the festive season can also become an exercise in duniyadari. Who must be invited, whose gifts need to be sent, whose home we must visit and how presentable everything needs to look.

Guests see the lights, the decor and the food, but rarely the weeks of work behind them. And while male partners are increasingly participating, much of the planning and mental load still tends to fall on women. By the time the celebrations arrive, the people who have put everything together can be the ones with the least energy left to enjoy it.

Celebrate with People Who Feel Like Home

I don’t think the answer is to stop doing these things. There is something rather satisfying about Diwali ki safai. It is almost an annual home detox, a chance to clear out the clutter, reorganise and make space for a new year. And inviting people home is a lovely way of spending time with those we love, in a setting that’s different from our usual restaurant dinners and coffee dates.

But perhaps we need to be a little more intentional about who we do it for. Invite the people who make themselves feel at home. The ones who couldn’t care less whether the house is elaborately decorated or whether dinner is a fancy festive spread or a simple khichdi. The ones who come to spend time with you, not inspect the production.

Keep the traditions that bring you joy; question the obligations that only bring you exhaustion.

I will continue to look forward to these four months every year. The rituals, the sarees, the food, the parties and the people are all part of what makes this season so special. I just hope we get a little better at enjoying the celebrations ourselves, instead of spending all our time making sure everyone else does.