MAHIMA SHETKAR
For Goans, Diwali isn’t just about lights — it’s about stories, smells, and sounds that fill every home. The crackle of fov being roasted in the kitchen, the fragrance of ghee lamps, and the laughter of neighbours greeting each other after the early morning Narakasur burning. But for many Goan students studying or working away from home, the festival now comes wrapped in longing, video calls, and small, improvised celebrations in distant cities.
“Celebrating Diwali away from home feels different — quieter, a little emptier, yet full of cherished memories,” says Mansha Thakkar, a student at Amity University, Mumbai. I miss the warmth of family, the laughter, the smell of homemade sweets, and the glow of diyas lighting up every corner of our home. This year, with friends around, we’re trying to recreate that spirit — sharing stories, cooking our favourite dishes, and lighting diyas together. It’s not the same, but it brings comfort and a sense of closeness. No matter the distance, my heart is with my family, and I hope to celebrate the joy of Diwali together again soon.
Across India’s campuses, young Goans are finding new meanings in old traditions. For some, Diwali away from home has turned into a celebration of independence and togetherness with friends from different states. Others see it as a gentle reminder of the comfort and warmth they’ve left behind.
“Celebrating Diwali away from home can never feel quite the same,” reflects Prachi Shrihari Satardekar, Senior Software QA, Pune. Due to work commitments, I had to be away from my family, and I truly missed the joy of sitting together and sharing faral on banana leaves. The tradition I missed the most was Narkasur Dahan, something unique to Konkan. Yet, amidst the distance, there was a silver lining — creating unforgettable memories celebrating Diwali with my hostel friends. Even far from home, the spirit of togetherness found a new form, and those moments will stay with me forever.
The contrast between Goa’s community spirit and the quieter Diwali of hostels is striking. Back home, the celebration spills out of homes into neighbourhoods — lanterns glowing in every balcony, laughter echoing from one house to another. In cities, students often recreate that warmth through small gestures — cooking Goan sweets like nevri or chakli, playing Konkani songs, or watching the Narakasur competitions online.
Despite the distance, Diwali for these young Goans remains more about emotion than extravagance. It’s about lighting that one diya not just to celebrate the victory of good over evil, but to keep the spirit of home alive in their hearts. The flame becomes a symbol of love, resilience, and the unbreakable bond between family and culture.
For many, Diwali away from home is a lesson in gratitude. It reminds them of where they come from — the comfort of familiar faces, the smell of freshly fried fov, the glow of the Aakash Kandil. And even though their celebrations are smaller now, the meaning has only grown deeper.
This year, as Goans across the world light their diyas, they carry with them a piece of home — the memory of dawn rituals, the laughter of family, and the belief that light always finds its way back.
