The post-Diwali quietness...

It’s a little slice of heaven, isn’t it? Don’t get me wrong, this year’s Diwali was great—lights, food, games, laughter… and all the other things that come with having everyone crammed under one roof for days, with crackers bursting till 2 am. But now that it’s over, I can finally admit it: the best part of Diwali for me is the days after. 

After all that festivity, I need a recharge session like my phone after a full day on low power mode. This year, the decorations went up, the diyas were lit, and I had this wide-eyed, innocent optimism that maybe, maybe I’d get through it without reaching for my invisible panic button. But by day two, that “inner peace” thing I’d been striving for had turned into a game of “Where’s the Quiet Spot?” The only place left unoccupied was the drying area, where I tried to meditate over the faint sounds of another cracker going off.

There’s something wonderfully ironic about how I can go from thrilled to host to ready to join the witness protection program within 48 hours. One minute, I’m all about the colorful chaos, and the next, I’m fantasizing about disappearing to a quiet beach (with no other people around, naturally). I love my family dearly, but after round three of, “Are we out of samosas again?” and “Who’s up for more charades?”, I knew I’d reached my social limit.

So, on the morning after Diwali, I did what any sensible, overwhelmed introvert would do: I threw on my comfiest pajamas, tiptoed past the leftovers that were still aggressively reminding me of my questionable food choices, and retreated to my room. For once, the house was actually quiet. No one calling for tea, no one setting off crackers, no one guilt-tripping me into another helping of mithai. It was blissful.

I spent that entire day in hermit mode. I even treated myself to a real breakfast—no festive laddoos or kachoris this time, just some toast and tea without the constant risk of getting dragged into a conversation about the family WhatsApp group. Honestly, I felt like a person again. I sank into the couch with a book, no festive playlist in sight, and for a few precious hours, it was just me and my thoughts… and maybe a little too much Diwali mithai quietly taunting me from the corner.

It’s funny how Diwali manages to be both exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure. I absolutely love the traditions, the food, and even the family antics. But that quiet afterward? That’s the secret holiday no one talks about. It’s when I can finally laugh to myself about all the chaos, make my mental note to “prepare better” for next year (ha!), and just breathe. I dove deep into watercolours with loose strokes destressing myself.

So, here’s to the day after Diwali—the real festival of introverts. Until next year’s marathon of socializing ,mithais and samosas, you’ll find me savoring every moment of my well-earned post-Diwali peace.