As a kid, Diwali was five days of sensory overload: flickering lamps, friends and relatives you hadn’t seen since last Diwali, and mithai served on repeat until joy curdled into sugar-induced despair.
Growing up in Wales in the 90s, I rejected almost all of it. Being Asian felt like a marker of otherness, and when your teenage mission is fitting in, a celebration of being Indian wasn’t all that appealing. So I joined in half-heartedly, but longed for the escape hatch of a sweaty metal gig with my friends where identity didn’t feel quite so loaded.
It’s only now, as an adult, that I’ve reclaimed Diwali. I still light candles, phone family, and do the ritual house clean, but I’ve also developed my own hybrid: a Diwali meets Halloween brunch with friends (Indian food with gruesome-looking cupcakes on the same table is a questionable vibe, but somehow it works).
The overlap isn’t as odd as it sounds: both festivals are obsessed with light triumphing over dark. Diwali looks ahead to prosperity; Halloween, via its pagan ancestor Samhain, is a reminder that the harvest is over and winter is about to ruin everyone’s mood.
Beyond sweets
Traditionally, Diwali gifting involves sweets – glorious, jewel-bright boxes of ladoos, barfi, jalebi. But these days, it has shifted to the personal; things you’ll actually use, wear, or remember. Putting together a Diwali gift guide for the Filter was a joy, because it meant spotlighting south Asian brands that don’t get enough love.
Take Ranavat, a beauty line that fuses Ayurvedic rituals with modern formulations. The Royal Trio bestsellers kit is an elegant way into the range, and I’ve used it since its launch. Then there’s Apsley & Heron’s name necklaces, which means you can wear your name in scripts from Hindi and Punjabi to my own language, Tamil. It’s a small thing, but quietly radical: finally seeing your name rendered as it should be.
Increasingly I’ve seen more and more brands offer Diwali-themed gifts, a nice idea, but one that raises the question: when does celebration tip into commercialism? The answer usually lies in intent. The best versions give back: donating to south Asian charities, spotlighting south Asian creatives, or, at the very least, producing something that feels rooted in the culture rather than a cynical cash-grab.
For me, Diwali will always be about positivity and connection. And if mithai fatigue sets in, my Diwali edit has you covered.