Don't wait for festival!

Letting go, whether of excess or of resentment, is an act of generosity we offer first to ourselves

- Vickram Sethi

In recent years, the weeks leading up to Diwali, Akshay Tritiya, Gudi Padwa, Baisakhi, Eid and Christmas have begun to feel less like a gentle countdown and more like a carefully choreographed campaign towards a shopping festival.

The moment the calendar turns, shop windows sparkle with promises of indulgence — boxes tied with golden ribbons, glossy cakes, chocolates, mithai, and almost anything that can be bought. Everything seems to convey the same message: celebration must be purchased.

What quietly gets lost is the simpler pleasure of making things at home, or sharing what has always been familiar. A homemade sweet often carries more warmth than the most elaborate box. Yet advertising rarely celebrates restraint or tradition; it thrives on novelty, abundance and the fear of missing out. When we step away from relentless marketing, we may rediscover a quieter, more personal celebration — one where sweetness comes not from sugar alone, but from sincerity.

There is something about a festival that stirs the heart more than most days of the year. Perhaps it is the scent of something cooking in the kitchen, or the soft glow of the evening that invites reflection. Festivals are emotional landmarks, reminding us who we are and where we have come from — and often, who we have loved and lost along the way. Yet for all their warmth, such occasions can also reopen old wounds.