Oct 18, 2009

May the festival of lights banish the darkness of racism


It's already started. When I call Bangalore, my Amamma answers the phone speaking in a language I don't understand. I scream my name intermittently, hoping that the words will get through from Melbourne to India, but nothing does. Perhaps she's forgotten she has a granddaughter in Australia. It doesn't help that she's deaf in her left ear - the one she leans the receiver on - but at 88 she is excused just about anything.
I manage to understand from her shrieks that preparations for Diwali, ''the festival of lights", have begun. My aunt is at the temple making a puja (prayer) for the Goddess Lakshmi and taking prasad (sweets) to the neighbour's house. She will clean the house, light oil lamps and create Rangoli designs on the dirt path outside the front door with flour, rice and coloured chalk to attract the goddess. Wealth and good fortune are Lakshmi's business and on Diwali she's as stretched as Father Christmas.
My aunt is not alone. For the five days leading up to October 17 through to the day itself, Indians of all denominations around the world cleanse themselves and their houses, light lamps and set off firecrackers for the goddess.

During Diwali, my family, Malayali-Hindus from the south of the subcontinent, pray alongside their Jain, Buddhist, Sikh, Kannada and Tamil counterparts. They pray for victory of good over evil. Specifically for the obliteration of the Demon King Ravana by honourable Prince Rama, the seventh incarnation of Vishnu. Theirs is a battle of ancient demon-slaying warfare from the Ramayana, the epic Sanskrit text. Sound like it could be a television series scripted by Joss Whedon? You bet it does!
When Rama successfully slays the Demon King for the honour of his wife, Princess Sita, it signifies the end of darkness. Rama's win extinguishes the fires that burn throughout the Demon King's kingdom of Lanka and the prince and princess are free to return home after 14 years of exile. The wind blows and millions of oil lamps in small clay dishes fill the night sky and light their way back to the city of Ayodhya.
For some, the festival has deeply religious significance. In Sikhism it signifies the return from prison of the sixth guru, Guru Hargobind Ji, together with 52 other princes, to the Golden Temple in Amritsar in 1619. In Jainism it is the time to commemorate the holy teacher and saint Mahavira's attainment of Nirvana in 527BC. Hindu businesses traditionally begin new account books and pray to the goddess for a prosperous financial year.
For others, Diwali is a spiritual event that symbolises general good health and inner wellbeing. Despite the varied interpretations, collectively, Diwali is all about the message: triumph over adversity. Joy and prosperity for all.
In India and Nepal it's a national holiday. This year, in Melbourne, celebrations kicked off early.
The idea was to bring Diwali to the West. Literally. On October 3 at the Whitten Oval in Footscray, actors William McInnes and Leon Teague, and I, co-hosted a community cultural festival. Between Bollywood dance-offs and turban tying tips, fireworks, bhangra (folk dances) and requests for donations from the Red Cross, we incorporated another message. That the demon of racism be destroyed.
By the end of the day we'd seen classical dance from Orissa in the east and Kerala in the south. We knew our "enchantresses" from our Punjabi folk dances and we'd eaten just about as many samosas as we could stomach.
We'd lost and found a number of children and voted for our favourite future Bollywood stars. Most importantly, we'd taken a public stand that the recent attacks on international students and any racially motivated violence or hatred towards those who are different or vulnerable be behind us.
It is considered bad luck to turn away a stranger during Diwali, and by their presence in Footscray the Indian and local communities were replacing politics with partying. And while I was too timid to speak Punjabi and Tamil on the day, I can write it now. Sat Sri Akal. Vannakam. East to west, north to south - Marwari, Bengali, Punjabi or Malayali and here in Melbourne. Happy Diwali. Let's make it a fabulous year.
Kylie Boltin is the writer and director of the documentary series Wedding Sari Showdown and is a contributing editor to SBS Films, online.

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