Growing up in a working-class town in Carteret, New Jersey, Diwali was, without question, my favorite holiday. It was the one day my mother would take off work. Our house would fill up with the comforting aromas of kadhi chawal, karela, and gobi aloo, and the tensions in our lives would give way to joy. During my college years, my home became the gathering spot for Diwali, where friends and family would gather, drink wine, play teen patti, and laugh late into the night. These celebrations felt intimate, meaningful, and rooted in love.
But somewhere along the way, something changed. What was once a celebration of light, hope, and connection has morphed into a spectacle of excess and status. In certain pockets, Diwali now seems less about coming together and more about exclusivity — a Hunger Games-like pursuit of social hierarchy. The focus has shifted from the holiday’s values to the superficial markers of success: designer outfits, extravagant soirées, and carefully curated Instagram posts.