The morning after Diwali always feels like a silent chaos. The home was still decked up, yet there was an emptiness after the loud celebrations.
The Diwali lamps still hang in the balconies; most of the diyas have burnt out- just like our post-Diwali exhaustion. The soft smell of crackers still hangs in the air. My twins were still asleep, and I was cleaning up the mess of our Diwali party when the doorbell rang.
It was the Zepto delivery boy with the box of mithai that I had ordered for my house help. He looked exhausted, yet smiled and wished me, “Happy Diwali”.
I wished him back and handed him a piece of mithai from our kitchen.
He took it, thanked me, then waited a second and said softly, “Madam, can I please take some more for my wife and daughter? This year I couldn’t buy sweets or new clothes for them.”
His voice was calm, not embarrassed, just real. It took me a moment to respond.
“Of course,” I said and went to pack some more mithai and chivda for him.
As I was getting him the mithai and chivda, he smiled politely and waited. Meanwhile, our house help — we call her Mavshi- came out of the kitchen. Without saying a word, mavshi opened her big purse and took out a folded kurta, still with a tag on it.
She wished the delivery boy while handing him the kurta and said, “Dada, please accept this small Diwali gift.”
He looked happy and surprised. He spoke hesitantly “Tai, this is new!”
She smiled, “Haan. I bought it for my brother, but I will buy him his favourite sweets instead. You please keep this- it will make me happy, dada”
He remained silent for a few seconds. With wet eyes, he said, “Tai, is this really for me?” I could literally see a small tear rolling down his cheek. He looked overwhelmed, overjoyed and awed all at once.
She smiled humbly and said – “I wish you have a very happy Diwali – Khup Khup Aashirwad”
( God bless you)
He got emotional, folded his hands, and said “Tai, aabhar… you have made my Diwali.”
I stood there speechless and moved, holding the piece of mithai, feeling content.
After the delivery boy left, I asked mavshi, a bit confused, “You gave away your brother’s gift? Why? It was the Bhaubeej gift for your brother, right?
She smiled, her eyes were moist, yet twinkling with happiness, “Kya madam, mithai le loongi uske liye. Par iss ladke ka Diwali bhi toh ho na chahiye.”
(He should have his Diwali too.)
Her words hit me hard. I stood still for quite sometime. I was at a loss of words at her generous gesture.
All morning, I kept thinking about that moment. About how some people give even when they don’t have much. How natural it is for them to share whatever little they have. I mean, would I ever be able to be so selfless and caring towards others?
I couldn’t get over Mavshi’s thoughtful gesture. It lingered in my heart.
We often give from what’s left — from our extra — but people like her don’t give to show- they give because it’s who they are.They remind you what real kindness looks like.No calculation, no hesitation, no expectation.
That morning taught me something simple, yet deep and poignant
Diwali isn’t just about sweets, lights and celebration. It is about people like Mavshi — who make others feel seen and loved, with asked for in return.
When the lights go dim and the festivities have ended, that’s the Real Diwali that stays — calm, soul, and heartfelt.
Avni Katakkar
