Ah, yes – autumn. This season is interesting for me for a few reasons. First of all, it is usually associated with the painful start of school and getting used to an orderly routine after a summer of pure relaxation and serenity. But for my family and I, the fall is also associated with a time of celebration and festivities of our Indian culture. 

One of these celebrations, known as Diwali, usually takes place in late October or early November, around the time I have forced my body and mind to adjust to the new schedule and have accepted the fact that I will have to attend school. I look forward to this festival, more than others, simply because of the sense of warmth and togetherness I feel during it.

During the week leading up to Diwali, our family already starts planning a plethora of activities to take full advantage of the festive time, despite the fact that the temperature outside is barely a third of the sweltering one hundred degrees back in India, our home. 

A few days before the date is when we usually start to prepare food that won’t only last for the day, but also the week after – the sweet dishes will probably last for even longer. These few days are a particularly special time, as my mom, brother, and I work together in the kitchen, as our dad cleans the home, smelling the delicious aroma, and can hardly wait to taste a sample. There are usually three staples that we make each Diwali – dozens of thin, round breads known as puri, a savory chickpea dish called chole, and a sweet dish made from semolina, topped with golden raisins, named sheero. 

When the day finally comes our family’s anticipation and excitement are quite tangible. After finishing my day of school – or, if I am lucky, Diwali falls on a weekend – I eagerly arrive home and tell myself to put off homework and other activities for the day to enjoy the time with my family. 

From the moment I step into the house, I can already smell the sandalwood incense and the melodious and rich santoor music pervading the house, creating a warm and auspicious atmosphere. Usually, my mom and brother finish up making the sweet sheero while my dad and I soak in the evening, chatting away with them in the kitchen. 

After they are finished and some hours pass after relaxing, we begin the dinner, the true moment we had been waiting for. The plates are arranged along with bowls for the chole, and the sheero is waiting for us on the kitchen island. We partake in the delicious meal, including some dishes prepared for us by our friends, delighting in each other’s company. In the end, we are deeply satisfied, knowing the profound connection this holiday made for us.