I grew up in Delhi. The onset of Navaratri would mark the beginning of festivities after the solemn period of “ Shraddh”. On a purely physical level, it marked a seasonal change. The sweltering monsoon made way for winters. Because of the slight chill in the air, mothers would make their children wear full shirts and sometimes even half-sweaters. The seasons have been impacted dramatically, thanks to climate change.

The turn in the weather and season make the period of Navaratri especially conducive for any kind of spiritual practice and detox. The human body is receptive to the changes at the cusp of weather change. Austerities at this time, prepare one for the winters ahead.

Navaratri reminds me of faint scents of incense rising up from most houses and sounds of devi bhajans. There is one more enduring memory. Every ashtami, my mother woke us up at 6 am. No, not for school. We were invited for Kanya puja. Invitations would galore. Armed with plates in our hands, my siblings and I, like other children, would hop from one house to the other, obliging elders. Children, especially girls, are venerated during Navaratri, in the image of the Devi. In every house, we were showered with good food and lots of gifts. Usually, girls are preferred for this puja, but some sensitive souls extend the privileges to boys as well.

In some houses, our little feet would be washed and smeared with alta (an auspicious red coloured dye applied to feet or hands). Thereafter, we would be seated most ceremoniously on a mat. The man and woman of the house put a tilak on our foreheads, tied Mauli on our wrists, and offered us delicacies, a small red dupatta, and red-coloured bangles. Ah, yes, the most important bit..we got MONEY. Man, we were rich. In Delhi, during the eighties and nineties, groups of children engaged in counting their coins and notes outside shops and corners of the street were a common sight. It is no joke managing windfall money and making prudent buying decisions. By afternoon, our kitchen would overflow with chana, pooris, halwa, and other goodies received as prasada from various houses. It fell upon the family members to polish it off.

I found the ritual of feeding little ones endearing and decided to bring it to my life after marriage. First, it helped me connect with beautiful memories from childhood. Second, being an adult now, I felt like reciprocating the love and generosity shown to me by many elders.

Some things don’t change at all. Even today, when I serve piping hot pooris, halwa, chana, and other delicacies, children talk most enthusiastically about their favorite dish. Like little parrots, they prattle and tease each other; overall, there is an environment of happy bonhomie. The twinkle in their eyes makes it all worthwhile. I pick up books, colors, or other gifts and refrain from giving money.

Every Navaratri, I become the little girl who wondered what gifts the season would bring. My divine mother has been generous in her love. All I seek are her blessings and grace. Wish you all a very happy Navaratri. Let’s make these nine days a joyous event.