The Ephemeral Beauty of Diwali

Celebrating the Light Within Us

There’s something magical about spending three hours on our knees, fingers coated in colored powder, creating something we know won’t last. 

As I look at our driveway—transformed from ordinary concrete into a mandala of bright colors—I’m struck by how Diwali captures life’s most profound truths in the simplest of ways.

For our family, Diwali isn’t about grand religious ceremonies or traditional rituals.

Instead, it’s about acknowledging the light that exists in each of us—that spark of creativity, love, and joy that makes us human. 

It’s about taking ordinary materials—sand and colored powders—and transforming them into something extraordinary, if only for a day.

The art of creating rangoli is a meditation in itself.

Each circle we draw teaches patience, every pattern demands focus, and the whole process requires collaboration … creating something bit by bit that is greater than ourselves. 

I find peace in losing myself (and my sense of time) when carefully placing the colors, seeing the powder falling slowly through my fingers and knowing something new is coming to life.

The beauty of our rangoli lies not just in its simple patterns, bold colors or the meticulous placement of each diya, but in its impermanence. 

A gust of wind, a sprinkle of rain, or our puppy’s joyful paws could scatter hours of careful work in seconds.

Yet this transience doesn’t diminish its value—if anything, it enhances it.

Like the best moments in life, its fleeting nature makes it more precious.

Between the marigold garlands decorating our fence and the handmade paper flowers scattered around our “Happy Diwali 2024” message, we’ve turned our everyday entrance into something extraordinary.

As I watch my daughter stand with outstretched arms beside our creation, I’m reminded that Diwali teaches us something so profound about joy itself.

True happiness isn’t about building monuments that last forever; it’s about fully embracing the present moment, about pouring our hearts into something beautiful even knowing it won’t endure.

It’s about the meditative focus of creation, the quiet satisfaction of stepping back to admire our work, and the achy hugs we gave each other as our hungry stomachs grumbled in unison.

Tonight, this scene will really come alive when we light the diyas, turn on the candles and slip into our finest Indian clothes. 

But even before those first flames flicker to life, the celebration has already begun—in the simple act of creating beauty together, in the joy of making something from nothing, in the understanding that we can find light and magic in the most ordinary of spaces, and in the wisdom of knowing when to let go.

As the day unfolds, I’m taking a moment to capture my gratitude and share it with you.

Happy Diwali to all who celebrate, and to those who don’t—may we all find moments to create beauty in our lives, however fleeting they may be.

Hugs,

Mansi.