Dashain and Tihar symbolise what it means to carry on a culture and tradition in a globalised and integrated world. Cultural dilution and hegemony of a dominant culture are inevitable in the digital age, however, festivals like Dashain and Tihar remind us what it means to tell a story
The greatest of the Nepali festival, Dashain, just ended. When I was a kid, this used to be the most-awaited time of the year for me. Shopping, kites, delicacies, gambling, and, above all, gathering of relatives and celebrating the spirit of togetherness, foregoing any bitterness that might have transpired throughout the year, marked the arrival of this festival season.
Things have changed. Some changes are as natural as the change of the seasons while others are a bit melancholic. For instance, teenagers and youngsters do not fly kites anymore.
They are too busy making TikTok videos and "promoting" themselves on the web. Drinking and partying seem to have certainly increased along with the gulf between generations.
Long queues outside the temples symbolises the last vestiges of tradition that seem to survive. I wonder why the tradition of receiving blessings from the elders is in decline while receiving one from the deity is intact. Our constitution is progressive, and it is often touted that Nepal is a secular republic where all religious views are tolerated, including atheism. Nevertheless, the flocks of devotees from all socio-economic classes to the temples suggest religion is still ingrained deeply in our DNA – at least during Dashain.
Some of the upper middle-class and the upper-class celebrate the festival abroad, i.e., Dashain is used as a time to take a family vacation. Why is it that the people who can afford use this festival to escape from the country and, more importantly, their relatives? The rugged individualism that permeates the Western society seems to emanate from a certain segment of our population, too. Is it good? Or, shall I ask, is it desirable? If we introspect, there is not a single avenue of our society that is not impacted by Westernisation. From television shows to cuisine to relationship patterns to consumerism, Western culture has infused itself in our collective psyche. So, why should a festival be untainted? We live in a globalised and integrated world and a bit of cultural dilution is understandable.
Then there are the older population and lower middle-class for whom the festival is a burden for different reasons. For the older people, especially the ones with health issues, Dashain can be daunting both mentally and physically. It can be hard to mingle with the youngsters while indulging oneself in the idiosyncrasies of the festival.
As for the population at the bottom rung of the economic ladder, the festival can be a nightmare. Inflation is off the chart, and the purchasing power of the Nepali rupee is dismal.
Thegovernment has decided to open concessional stores for the festival season where daily necessary items can be purchased at a discounted price, but I doubt it will bring any solace to the people in need.
Similarly, the second greatest festival, Tihar, is upon us. Like Dashain, some of the ways in which we celebrate Tihar have changed while others have remained intact. For example, it is disheartening that the tradition of playing "Deusi" and "Bhailo" is in sharp decline.
Apart from the mythology, Deusi and Bhailo add colour to this colourful festival.
Teenage girls and boys come to the house and sing songs which for a brief moment bring together the entire neighbourhood in the spirit of togetherness – a phenomenon hard to witness in the age of individualism.
Also, the culture of welcoming goddesses Laxmi with "Diyo" and "Pala", i.e., cotton lights is replaced by artificial lights. This is the direct transfer of marketing tactics of a demand-driven economy to a ritual. If the festival is termed as "festival of lights", then why not use the lights that glow brighter, longer and are more ostentatious albeit artificial.
This grandiose display of one's preference and predilection seem to be the zeitgeist of this era. From social media posts to TikTok videos to Instagram photos, we like flamboyance. Authenticity and genuineness are derived from the exaggeration of our desires and aspirations.
On the bright side, environmentally unfriendly and unhealthy custom of lighting firecrackers and other forms of explosives is on the decline alongside using a lot of plastics and non-biodegradable substances.
This is a commendable change as protecting the ecosystem and leaving a sustainable planet for future generations is/ should be the utmost priority of the current era.
Finally, in both Dashain and Tihar, men seem to actively participate in the kitchen and other household chores. The sharp division of labour that was prevalent in most households a decade or so ago is dissolving. This, I believe, is a welcome change. We talk a lot about gender equality and women empowerment, but these utopian visions are confined only in our textbooks and in the operating manual of NGOs (non-governmental organisations) and INGOs (international non-governmental organisations). If festivals like Dashain and Tihar can help us implement our vision of a gender neutral society then these festivals can and should be used as a vehicle to create a more egalitarian society.
To conclude, Dashain and Tihar symbolise what it means to carry on a culture and tradition in a globalised and integrated world. Cultural dilution and hegemony of a dominant culture are inevitable in the digital age, however, festivals like Dashain and Tihar remind us what it means to tell a story; in-essence, it reminds us of what it means to be a human.
A happy belated Dashain and happy Tihar!
Pathak is education management consultant at Islington College
A version of this article appears in the print on October 24, 2022 of The Himalayan Times.
