SWEETS & LIGHTS
I have a fond recollection of hand-rolling cotton wool into fat wicks with my mother at our dining-room table in our family home in Pietermaritzburg. We’d then dip them into vegetable oil and carefully lay them in the centre of about three dozen clay lamps. Rolling the wicks and carrying the lamps to corners of the staircase outside and across the ledges of the low concrete garden wall was my task on the evening of Deepavali, as it’s known in the Tamil language of my ancestors. Diwali, being the other more popular term, is the most significant religious celebration in the Hindu calendar.
The Festival of Lights has its origin in the Ramayana, an ancient Sanskrit epic referenced in Hinduism. As children, we learned of the tale of prince Rama and his 14-year exile with his wife, Sita, in a dense, foreboding forest. She is captured by the cunning Ravana, king of Lanka, and eventually, after a long struggle, rescued by Rama and a cohort of characters. On their triumphant return to the city of Ayodhya, villagers lit lamps to illuminate their way, ushering in a new age of goodness and prosperity.
In many ways Deepavali is credited with a celebration of hope and renewal.
SUGAR AND SPICE, SCENTS OF DELIGHT
In our home, preparation for the festival started a few weeks in advance with my mother making lists and buying ingredients including almonds, ghee, powdered milk, rose water
