Festival of Lights

About a month ago, Diwali, the Hindu “Festival of Lights,” was celebrated by over a billion people—not just in India, but worldwide—and this past Saturday, some friends and I, along with a whole community at Grinnell, added our contribution to that number.

Now, I am no great dancer, and I’m certainly not bound for Broadway or Bollywood, but when the chance came before me to celebrate this beautiful festival in such a manner, a Pakistani friend and I jumped at the opportunity (pun intended). Because this year’s Diwali coincided with Grinnell’s fall break, the host of student organizations putting on the annual celebration decided to push it back a month so that everyone would be on campus. As we came to know of the event, Abdul and I worked to find a group of first-years willing to sacrifice their stage fright and dance with us.

After a few days of contacting friends, friends of friends, and friends of friends of friends, we had a pretty solid set of first-years added to our group chat. Our practice schedule consisted solely of late nights, in which we would commandeer whatever room we could find in the Humanities building, and under this system, we slowly but surely got our steps down. Soon, we had stitched together two songs, we were practicing nightly, and the performance itself crept up on us. That was this Saturday, and as I write this now, I can tell you, it was a BLAST.

The celebration began at 6:00 PM, with some astounding buffet-style South Asian dishes. Be it the basmati, the palak paneer, the chicken 65, or the nine other elements of the most sumptuous supper I’ve had since my summer in India, I felt right at home. In a blue kurta I had picked up from a market in Delhi, and with my right hand stained slightly by the turmeric as I gratefully disavowed my utensils, it was as if I had never left. I sat in appreciation of the good food, good company, and good conversation as I loaned half my closet to friends who were going to be dancing, but needed Indian apparel. By the time the first dance began, five friends were wearing shirts or kurtas that I had brought home from India or Malaysia.

As the emcees began to introduce the performance part of the night, our first-year group made our way backstage. We ran our set down once, but with all the other performers there, the halls were cramped, so we went outside to rehearse one final time. As Abdul set the music, we began the routine we had worked so hard to memorize, and by the time he accidentally dropped his phone, the music was coming just as much from our own mouths as from the phone itself. When the music disappeared along with Abdul’s phone, the group picked up the slack by singing. Though a wholly multiracial, multiethnic, multilingual group, it was clear that no one knew the Hindi lyrics. Choruses came out in a jumble, yet they somehow resonated clearly. We came from so many backgrounds, so many experiences, but here, we moved as one. We sang along to words we knew not, grasping at meaning and pronunciation, but nailed each dance step nonetheless.

As we returned indoors, prepped, came onstage, and performed, it’s fair to say we did a dang good job. Was it perfect? Certainly not. But was it entertaining? By all means, yes.

Reflecting upon this experience, I again feel overwhelmed with gratefulness. For the willingness of so many individuals to give up their time for such a silly yet meaningful cause. For the leadership my friends showed in putting this all together. For the phenomenal food, of course. For a night of fun, filled with memories as I watched a community coalesce over a holiday traditionally celebrated halfway around the world.

I danced not because it was an extra credit for my Religions in India class (though in my opinion, it ought to be), but instead because it brought me closer to my friends. Together, we took the stage, expressed ourselves, and most importantly, had some good-natured, light-hearted, and hard-earned fun. It’s an experience I’ll add to my memoir someday, as my memories from that night will not soon be forgotten.