From Rituals to Reality: Embracing My Own Version of Tradition

Growing up in India is like being a part of a grand, never-ending drama. Every festival, every family gathering is a chapter, and each tradition is a plot twist. My parents were the directors of this show, with a script filled with rituals, customs, and a whole lot of ‘do’s and don’ts.’ As the next in line, one might assume I’d take up the mantle seamlessly. But, oh, how wrong that assumption would be!

The Great Disconnect

One of the first traditions that met its untimely demise in my hands was the art of early morning prayers. My parents are early birds, their mornings starting with the soothing chants of ‘Om Namah Shivaya’ and the scent of agarbatti (incense sticks) wafting through the house. It was almost poetic. My mornings, however, are more like a chaotic symphony of alarms, snooze buttons, and a frantic rush to get ready. The early bird may get the worm, but this night owl gets, well, more sleep.

The Festival Fiasco

When it comes to festivals, my parents are like event planners on steroids. Diwali at home used to be a festival of lights, sweets, and non-stop ‘aarti’ (prayers). The house would be spotless, lit up with diyas, and filled with the aroma of freshly made ladoos. Now, Diwali at my place is more like a festival of e-commerce, with Amazon delivering everything from lights to sweets. Cleaning is minimal, and the ‘aarti’ often gets substituted with a quick prayer and an even quicker scroll through Netflix’s new releases. The only thing that remains constant is the noise of firecrackers—whether from outside or from my phone’s notification sounds.

The Culinary Collapse

Ah, the kitchen—my mother’s sacred realm. The array of dishes she would whip up for any given festival or celebration was nothing short of a culinary symphony. She’d spend hours—sometimes days—preparing an elaborate feast that could feed an army. Me? I’m more of a Swiggy/Zomato enthusiast. My version of a feast is scrolling through restaurant menus and strategically timing the delivery to coincide with the actual meal times. Cooking? Let’s just say my culinary skills peak at boiling water for instant noodles.

The Attire Alteration

Traditional attire was another pillar of our family’s festive celebrations. My parents would don their finest sarees and kurtas, looking like they just walked out of a Yash Raj film set. I, on the other hand, believe in the power of comfort over tradition. My festive wardrobe is more ‘Jeans and T-shirts’ than ‘Sherwani and Dhoti’. There’s something about struggling with pleats and heavy embroidery that just doesn’t sit well with me. Plus, jeans have pockets—need I say more?

The Social Shuffle

Family gatherings were another biggie. My parents had this magical ability to connect with every relative, near or far, remembering birthdays, anniversaries, and even the smallest of family events. I, however, am the ‘forgetful nephew’ who needs Facebook reminders to remember my own birthday. The art of maintaining those social bonds is something I’ve definitely let slide. It’s not that I don’t care—it’s just that social interactions often take a back seat when you’re juggling work, personal life, and everything in between.

The New Age Twist

Reflecting on these changes, it’s clear that while I may have dropped the ball on several traditional fronts, it’s not all gloom and doom. The essence of these traditions—family, love, and togetherness—still thrives, albeit in a modern avatar. Whether it’s a quick video call with family during festivals or ordering a feast online to share with loved ones, the spirit remains intact.

In the end, traditions evolve, just like we do. And while my parents’ version of traditions may have been a picturesque Bollywood film, mine is more of a quirky web series—less polished but equally heartfelt. So, here’s to keeping the essence alive, one missed alarm and one food delivery at a time!