Happy Dussehra

Effigy of Ravan Burning in Ram Leela - A Sacred Hindu Tradition and Common Indian Sighting

I was scared of the lift so I climbed the stairs all the way to the 7th floor of my apartment block and rang the bell to my friend’s place but refused to go in. She came out and we both stayed in the lobby as we impatiently waited for her father to come out. With the height here we could see directly into the distance right into the event grounds where stood 3 colourful effigies ready to be burnt. It was Dusshera and we were excitedly waiting to go see the Ram Leela - a cultural event depicting Ramayana. Today was the day of the culmination and though the festivities had been celebrated in the morning, the effigies were set ablaze in the night. Uncle took us to the nearby Ram Leela as my parents were busy. He hoisted us one by one on his shoulders to watch the whole event unfold as we were standing way back in the grounds in the common area. I still remember the contentment I felt while we drove back in the car afterwards.

20 years later, a day before Dusshera, I drove into work, tears streaming down my eyes all the way over. I looked for a slight hidden from prying eyes spot as I needed to let out the tears that had filled up in my eyes before I could get down from the car and make my way to the lifts - I was no longer scared of them. I sat in the car, cleaned my face, mustered up the courage to reach my office desk but my fuel ran just until this point. I set my things down and again headed off to find a private spot where I could sit quietly and work without worrying about drawing attention to myself incase more tears rolled down.

As I sat down, talking to a friend I tried to remember what I was doing last Dusshera. I came across our chat which was filled with me cheering a gloomy him. He was in a state of mind similar to the one I found myself in this year - he is one year elder to me so maybe that makes a lot of sense. Reading that chat took me back to the day and just made my eyes well up further.

What was I feeling bad about? Something I believe a lot of us our age feel - and those who don’t feel the gloom would have a void which I don’t believe I can say with certainty is better.

As a kid festivals were periods of such joy that they were almost the Sun we started revolving our life around. Every exam, every class was termed pre or post festival. Weeks leading upto the festival involved certain kind of work that would surely end right before the festival breaks - no matter how short or long those breaks were. When we came back from the festival, we would have hit a restart button subconsciously. Our minds were fresh, brimming with stories and things we did during the festival. We came back recharged and looked forward to the weeks leading upto the next festival. During the festival there was more than enough to be done. There would be events in school leading up to that, some school play, some competitions, some special holiday homework. There’d be new clothes to buy, relatives to visit, events like Ram Leela to go to. A lot of food, a lot of decorations at home. The air had a festive feel to it even though in Delhi that just meant the air now was mixed with life threatening smog - maybe that’s what triggers the happiness in many.

As we grew up, we moved to college and that meant a new kind of enthusiasm for the festival. A lot of colleges are a good mix of people residing in the same city and ones having come from out of town. We would all discuss in huddles who was travelling back home for the breaks, who was staying in the city but with a city friend so they could celebrate the festival together - how was the festival being celebrated in the hostel or college or respective PGs, who was sitting the festival out for what reason. I personally remember all 5 years of college having some or the other friends over at my place and fervently discussing what the festival looked like in their homes. Having gotten slightly better financially, a little more sound culturally, and a little less tolerant to crowds, this period also meant going to similar Ram Leelas but with better passes, going with friends and relatives to enjoy eating and socialising as well as the show, going to the theatre district to see a more artistic approach to the same events.

Post college, the 2 years I lived abroad, my phone screen time would have gone over the roof as I’d be glued to my phone video calling home to see how things were being done, who had taken over my typical responsibilities, berating them for not up keeping the quality in my absence. Days leading to the festival were spent waiting in anticipation for the traditional clothes package that was coming my way from home and speaking to friends celebrating about combining plans and speaking to friends not celebrating about joining us to learn more. Once the waking hours ended at home, I’d hurry to get ready to organise or attend a party for the festival that had been finalised to ensure all home missing souls once again sat in someone’s living room discussing fervently how the festival was celebrated at everybody’s place, still socialising, eating and restarting.

Celebrating the Festival with my brother one year over video call

Once life moved from the merry phase of family and friends, festival breaks meant using the long breaks to take a much needed trip - mood and life still very much anchored to the joy of the festival even if it was being celebrated in untraditional ways. I still remember spending one Dusshera talking on the beach to an ousted political leader about her biography - not wondering till today how the person I had seen every year on the news on this day of the festival throwing the ceremonial arrow to celebrate the festival with the entire country felt that year away from the festivities she was one of the biggest part of in many ways.

So what’s changed? Nothing and Everything.

I’m 27, single, an almost solopreneur, sitting in an almost empty coworking space wondering how the people who are taking a break for the festival are doing right now at their place, wondering with the festival a day away, is there something I can still do to turn things around, wondering if next year yet again I’ll be repeating today with much more dread over one more year gone.

Is there something wrong with me? Or my life? Nothing and Everything.

I’m not a depressed maniac who’s suicidal and isolated. I have a family, I have friends, I have employees, I have coworkers, I have relatives, I have money, I have means, I’m physically able to do anything I want. But I’m bound my own restrictions. I have my parents in my family who have celebrated the festival enough to no longer be excited about it - they have kids old enough that they don’t need to hype the festival up for them. I have friends who are all busy in their own lives, many now live at home with their families, some with partners and kids. My employees are on an off, happy to not be working. I have coworkers - some in the same state as me, some enjoying with their young families - while we do pretend to dress up and share festive joy - the idea of having to celebrate in a work place feels like being in a shelter home for abandoned souls. My relatives are all celebrating at their places - no doubt many feeling similar as the ones I used to go to Ram Leelas with also have been noticeably skipping it the past few years. I used my money to buy myself a new dress that I’ll wear for half an hour of the festivities and for much longer on many upcoming weddings. I used my means to drag myself here. So what are the restrictions?

I no longer have the enthusiasm or a reason to be excited around the festival. Do I see a way out? Yes. I know if I one day get married, I’ll be excited to celebrate the festival the first time with my loving husband - sharing our rituals, coming up with new ones. Maybe the year after that we’ll take a trip or throw a party with our couple friends. If one day I have kids, I’ll be excited to bring the festival alive for them the way it used to be for them. I’d buy new clothes for them - maybe ones matching mine. I’d schedule activities for them, take them to see the Ram Leela, their relatives. I’d ready them for their school events. I know the festive joy would one day come back. That’s how I consoled my friend last year. That’s the circle of life, right?

Chat Excerpt of Me Consoling My Friend Last Year

But what do I do in these middle years? Sleep with someone to make the festival go away or work through it pretending it doesn’t exist? Or drink myself into oblivion? That’s how people who have a void where wishes should be celebrate the festival, I’m assuming?

I’ll be honest, I ran out of steam and tears as I put these thoughts on paper as I finally was able to vocalise all the doom I was feeling. I can’t run away from the feelings I feel, cant run away from how much I miss the festivities, cant run away and accept that I will probably never celebrate the festivals the same away again. What I can do is try to share the calmness I got post writing with others who might be feeling today the same way I do. And how do I plan to share that? By telling you if you’re one of those people that there are others out there who feel the same way, you’re not alone. Reach out to people, build new traditions - maybe it is playing games on zoom call with college friends who are not celebrating, maybe it is reading a book with a friend you’re close to as you’re both bored on the day of the festival, maybe it is meeting for coffee or dinner with people who all want to come out of their homes to spend the rest of the evening, maybe it is speaking to some long lost distant friends - whatever you decide to do - may be include writing yourself a letter penning down your thoughts that you save and read an year or two down the line from today when you do have a young family and you restart celebrating the festival so you know just how much you deserve the really good days when they come to you, so you know just how much you must treasure the chance to celebrate because you never know which year is the last one you celebrate, hopefully for a while.

I cant wait to write a part 2 of this post next year, many days late as I would have spent the day before the festival buying a present for my husband and my new family, the day of the festival arguing with him about how we will be doing things, the evening in his arms talking of this day and the old good days, and the next few days recovering from how tired but content I would have been after the festival.

Happy Dusshera to everyone celebrating, and a special one to those not celebrating.