witera | Sparklers, swag, swiggy


The Diwali blitzkrieg is getting bigger, bolder, brighter. The plasticity of Diwali becomes cheeky, bigger, more swinging. Much like the ruffles and trimmings shaping Chinese battery-powered tealights, which dazzle with designer faces but on borrowed luminescence.

Bling is king in Diwali’s Day Out on Twitterverse. For potter or for handbag.

Take this terracotta totem from the Festival of Lights.

The trendiest tea light is the new Diya.

The takeover by the tealight candle tells its story.

There was a time when the Diwali season spelled humble Diya’s Day Out. Melas to milling markets, street edges to shop stalls overflowed with this primary form of festive lamp, the one and only Diya.

Until the mall culture arrives. Until made-in-China labels monopolized our markets and malls.

What is increasingly the fate of the earthen lamp of poor potters, so is that other traditional lamp, the brass diya.

Tealight candles are the new Nilavilakkus.

Poor earth lamps now face te(a)rific competition. Expensive brass lamps are overshadowed by practical metal tealights. No need to burn “midnight oil”. No need to bother over many tricks to keep burning the wick.

Tealight candles are the new mass medium of luminescence. Tealight candles come out of every supermarket shelf, out of every beautiful window dressing.

More expensive and more sophisticated tea light holders in the shape of a butterfly or peacock. Tealight candles that prove their metal loud and clear, those in crystal glass with white metal parts covered in gold.

Fewer and fewer Tweeples now offer terracotta diyas, but one is bombarded with boxes full of flimsy, whimsical tealights.

Ah, but doesn’t all the joy of living in the Festival of Lights lie in the hard work, with friends and relatives, to put in place stubborn diya locks; in bonding, with brothers and sisters to spot places to protect the diyas from the myriad moods of the wind?

Wasn’t a big part of the joy of festival ties about not knowing which way the winds would blow? The winds of life, the winds of this night amavasya.

The curious case of the humble Diya having to prove his metal.

Speed ​​and social distancing

Festivals now come to straddle not only swag but also Swiggy.

There was a time when people traveled miles just to greet relatives and friends on Diwali with a mithai ka dabba. Even though a mausi-mausa lived in Punjabi Bagh and the chacha-chachi opposite Patparganj or Preet Vihar.

Until Zepto came to Zomato, Dunzo to Swiggy. And the mithai ka dabba of the festival season has begun to bear the brunt of a new kind of social distancing.

Why bother braving the traffic jams and road rage that define the Diwali season when Zepto or Zomato may very well deliver Ferroro Rocher chocolates or Double Trouble donuts to bhua jis and bhabhi jis?

The curious case of Diwali social distancing led by Swiggy & Co.

Of Diwali and demonstration

The story of Diwali’s demonstration effect is also getting bigger, tougher, more boring.

The competitiveness of the festivities is no longer limited only to the new LED TV or the Nerolac paint of this neighbor. As shown by those advertisements that take advantage of the “neighbour’s envy, owner’s pride” model.

The digital age creates a stronger or ridiculous demonstration effect.

Like taking out astronomical consumer loans to bring home a bigger Ford or Merc than the neighboring Gupta ji or Ganguly ji. Or nagging parents to save money on the latest iPhone 14 just because that boy in the class has one.

Festival sparkle and sparkle are not only bolder and brighter than new Nerolac or Asian paints, but also as synthetic as paints that peel off pronto or Chinese-made tealights that expire before you even Diwali puja is over.

The curious case of the demonstration effect to eclipse a hurried Hari or Harry.

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