Lights will guide you home: Charles Assisi on the spirit of Diwali
It’s ironic that smog now defines a festival of light over darkness. Fireworks, after all, are only a few centuries old, while Diwali goes back millennia.
One of my favourite works of art is a painting by SL Haldankar titled Woman with the Lamp. To my mind, it epitomises what Diwali is about: to hold a light up to the self, and reflect and meditate on the self and everything around.
Right now, this appears urgent. As the air quality index (AQI) in large cities such as Delhi and Mumbai dips to “severely poor” and becomes unbreathable, it is time to ask: Do we have to live in such conditions? Do we really need to use today to engage in a so-called tradition of firecrackers and make things worse? Or should we return to the roots of what Diwali really means?
On reading through the literature on how things got here, it turns out that Diwali, in ancient times, served as a fusion of harvest festivals too. It finds mention in early Sanskrit texts such as the Padma Purana and the Skanda Purana (both compiled by Vyasa). These texts describe the lamps lit during Diwali to symbolise the sun, and speak of how the lamps also served as an allegory for the light of consciousness.
More recent historical references to Diwali celebrations have it that 7th-century emperor Harshavardhana encouraged citizens to whitewash their homes and use lamps to decorate houses, streets and markets. The celebration was, at this point, a sort of communal meditation on light and purity.
Today, the most widely accepted narrative is that Diwali celebrates the victory of light over darkness and knowledge over ignorance. Rama’s return to Ayodhya symbolises the victory of good (dharma) over evil. This again aligns with the practice of mindfulness, which often involves a focus on ethical conduct and self-awareness.
The telling and re-telling of these stories is itself a reinforcement of the belief that good ultimately triumphs over evil. This celebration of light, both literal and metaphorical, is also then a celebration of awareness.
How did firecrackers make their way in? The truth is, loud firecrackers have about as much to do with Diwali as Santa Claus has to do with Christmas or ghosts and ghouls with Halloween.
Fireworks only entered Diwali celebrations in about 1400 CE, following the introduction of gunpowder in Indian warfare. The late historian PK Gode, in his book, History of Fireworks in India between 1400 and 1900 (1950), outlines how gunpowder travelled from China to India and began to be used here in various ways.
One of the uses was fireworks, which started to show up at a range of entertainment and celebratory events. The Mughals took to gunpowder heartily, using it in warfare and in celebrations during emperor Akbar’s reign (1556-1605). By the mid-1700s, amid the rise of the Maratha empire, fireworks were featuring in major celebratory events across more of the subcontinent.
Fast forward to today, and firecrackers have become a bit of a tradition. They are the uninvited guest that everyone expects at a Diwali party. They arrive with a bang and always overstay their welcome, leaving a trail of smoke behind.
Ironic, isn’t it? Diwali, at its core, is about enlightenment, but we often find ourselves in a cloud of smoke, searching for our lost earplugs. A festival meant to celebrate inner light is now dominated by polluting starbursts in the sky.
Where mindfulness during Diwali might have had one meditating to the sound of one’s own breath, the firecrackers will have none of that. They demand attention with every pop and crackle, turning the festival into a symphony of sounds that might make even the most focused monk raise an eyebrow.
This is why it’s time to return to our roots and remember that, in the end, Diwali is about balance. This means a whole lot of light, some silence, and the sounds of family and friends arriving at the door. Cutting the firecrackers out won’t take away from the spirt of Diwali. If anything, it will revive it.
(Charles Assisi is co-founder at Founding Fuel & co-author of The Aadhaar Effect)
