As children, festivals were among the happiest times of the year. New clothes, holidays from school, delicious food, firecrackers, and the excitement of celebrating with family everything felt magical. We would eagerly wait for festivals, especially Diwali, without worrying about anything beyond what we would wear or eat.
But after marriage, something changes. Festivals that once meant pure joy can start feeling like a long list of responsibilities. I am not generalising, as every woman’s experience is different, but I feel many women can relate to this, especially when it comes to Diwali.
Earlier, Diwali meant fun, food, and festivities. Now, when Diwali approaches, my first thought is often, “Oh my God! I have to clean the entire house, prepare so many varieties of festive snacks, and manage everything else!”
And when you are balancing office work and a baby, the pressure becomes even greater. There is so much to do, and somehow, you are expected to manage it all while keeping the festive spirit alive.
This makes me wonder: why do we put so much pressure on ourselves to prepare so many varieties of festive snacks, especially when we have to do most of it alone?
Earlier, preparing Diwali snacks was often a family activity. Everyone would come together, divide the work, make different snacks, and enjoy the process as much as the food itself. It was a time for bonding, laughter, and creating memories.
Today, in many households, that shared responsibility has turned into an individual burden. The expectation to prepare multiple varieties of snacks, clean the house, and manage everything else often falls on one person, usually the woman. Somewhere along the way, we seem to have lost the joy of doing things together and held on only to the expectation of getting everything done.
Does God really expect us to prepare an elaborate spread before blessing our homes? Has God ever said that they will visit only if we make every traditional dish? I don’t think so.
Then why have we made these expectations such an essential part of our celebrations?
Traditions are beautiful, and I genuinely enjoy celebrating festivals. But when the preparations become a source of stress rather than happiness, perhaps it is time to rethink how we celebrate them.
Understanding What Our Mothers Went Through
One thing I have realised after marriage is how little we understood the effort our mothers put into making festivals special for us.
Before marriage, we would happily tell our mothers what we wanted to eat, which sweets they should prepare, and what we expected for Diwali. We rarely thought about the hours of preparation, the grocery shopping, the cleaning, or the physical exhaustion behind it all.
We simply enjoyed the results.
Today, when I find myself managing these responsibilities, I understand that experience differently. I can finally appreciate the effort that went into creating those beautiful childhood memories.
And honestly, I sometimes wish I had understood it sooner.
A Small Request to Everyone
If you are still living with your parents or visiting them for festivals, here is a small request: the next time you ask your mother to prepare your favourite festive snacks don’t just place an order!
Walk into the kitchen. See how much work goes into making those dishes. Help her with the preparations, even if it means doing something as simple as chopping ingredients, arranging things, or cleaning up afterwards.
And if you are celebrating Diwali with your wife, remember that she may be managing a hundred things behind the scenes to make the festival special for everyone. Don’t wait for her to ask for help. Share the work.
Festivals should be about spending time with our loved ones, creating memories, and feeling grateful for what we have. They shouldn’t become a responsibility that leaves one person exhausted while everyone else enjoys the celebration.
Let’s Make Festivals About Happiness Again
I still love Diwali. I love the lights, the food, the traditions, and the feeling of being surrounded by family. I don’t want to give up these traditions; I simply want us to celebrate them differently.
We can make fewer varieties of faral (festive snacks), order some things from outside, divide the work among family members, or simplify the preparations. The festival will still be special.
Because, at the end of the day, the value of Diwali isn’t measured by how many dishes we prepare or how perfectly we clean our homes. It’s in the happiness, love, and togetherness we create.
And perhaps, as we grow older, one of the most beautiful ways to celebrate our festivals is to make sure the women who once made them magical for us and the women doing it today get to enjoy them, too.
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