‘Namaste’, I said to my new neighbours. They smiled and returned the greeting. Then they apologetically explained that they were from Punjab in the north of India where Namaste was replaced by a different greeting.
A couple of weeks later I rang the doorbell armed with paper, pen and a container of Anzacs. (Ever tried to explain the meaning of Anzac, let alone the fact that it referred to biscuits!)
“Come in, come in,” they welcomed. “Sit down. What would you like to drink?” I wrote down their real names, the names they commonly used and their special greeting. In the meantime, a glass of water appeared along with snacks of nuts and a bowl of grated carrot, coconut, almond meal and condensed milk.
“We’ve never had a neighbour visit us before. Can we show you our wedding photos?” Of course they could, so the laptop was produced. I started to say farewell, but a cup of special chai was being made so I sat down again.
Diwali, the festival of lights, was coming up and I knew the Benalla Festival included a celebration. I dropped in to ask if they were going. They weren’t, because it was on the 4th. November and they wanted to celebrate on the proper date, the 1st. November. Would I come in and join them? How could I refuse?
I rang the day before to check on the time. – Any time. - Does it include a meal? – Of course - What time do you eat? - 8 or 9 o’clock.
I duly arrived at 7.30. Raavi had created a beautiful design from coloured powder on the tiles inside the front door. She poured me a glass of juice and proffered a box of cashew sweets. Davy arrived home from work and we ate appetisers – spherical paper-thin balls which you broke open, put in some spicy mixture then covered it with a thin corn soup.
Time for the lighting. Some tiny clay pots, filled with oil and holding a plait of cotton, were placed on the design near the door and carefully lit.
A couple of weeks later I rang the doorbell armed with paper, pen and a container of Anzacs. (Ever tried to explain the meaning of Anzac, let alone the fact that it referred to biscuits!)
“Come in, come in,” they welcomed. “Sit down. What would you like to drink?” I wrote down their real names, the names they commonly used and their special greeting. In the meantime, a glass of water appeared along with snacks of nuts and a bowl of grated carrot, coconut, almond meal and condensed milk.
“We’ve never had a neighbour visit us before. Can we show you our wedding photos?” Of course they could, so the laptop was produced. I started to say farewell, but a cup of special chai was being made so I sat down again.
Diwali, the festival of lights, was coming up and I knew the Benalla Festival included a celebration. I dropped in to ask if they were going. They weren’t, because it was on the 4th. November and they wanted to celebrate on the proper date, the 1st. November. Would I come in and join them? How could I refuse?
I rang the day before to check on the time. – Any time. - Does it include a meal? – Of course - What time do you eat? - 8 or 9 o’clock.
I duly arrived at 7.30. Raavi had created a beautiful design from coloured powder on the tiles inside the front door. She poured me a glass of juice and proffered a box of cashew sweets. Davy arrived home from work and we ate appetisers – spherical paper-thin balls which you broke open, put in some spicy mixture then covered it with a thin corn soup.
Time for the lighting. Some tiny clay pots, filled with oil and holding a plait of cotton, were placed on the design near the door and carefully lit.
Then some tea candles were placed on the doorstep and on the front path and lit. Out the back and more tea candles placed on the ground. Raavi flicked a switch and some ‘Christmas-tree-style’ streamers with tiny lights appeared. Then three sparklers were produced, and we waved them around in the air and proclaimed, ‘Happy Diwali’.
Nine o’clock and time to cook some spiced rice and some chapatis. A vegetarian curry of tofu was produced and some very spicy spears of okra.
Constantly I was assured, “Just try these things and if they are too spicy, don’t eat them.” A final dessert of sweet milky rice with crushed nuts was dished up, with the comment that this had been cooked especially for me in case the other food was not to my taste.
So many times, I was thanked for coming. Could they call me Grandma? Of course. At 9.45 when I got up to leave and walk around the corner, I thanked them heartily and produced my torch. “But we’re coming with you to make sure you get home safely.” And that is exactly what they did!
To think that in more than eighty years, that was my first Diwali.
Carmyl Winkler
November 2024
Constantly I was assured, “Just try these things and if they are too spicy, don’t eat them.” A final dessert of sweet milky rice with crushed nuts was dished up, with the comment that this had been cooked especially for me in case the other food was not to my taste.
So many times, I was thanked for coming. Could they call me Grandma? Of course. At 9.45 when I got up to leave and walk around the corner, I thanked them heartily and produced my torch. “But we’re coming with you to make sure you get home safely.” And that is exactly what they did!
To think that in more than eighty years, that was my first Diwali.
Carmyl Winkler
November 2024
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