Diwali, one of India’s most cherished and anticipated festivals, is not one celebration but a colourful spread of countless regional customs, each illuminating the country’s diversity of faith, folklore, and festivity. At the heart of the festival is the mythological tale of the homecoming of Lord Rama, marking a victory of light over darkness. Across India, the five-day festival unfolds in strikingly different ways—through fairs in the desert, ancestral rituals by the sea, or the lighting of lamps on sacred hills. To travel through India during Diwali is to witness an entire subcontinent shimmering under one name yet shining in many forms. Here are seven unique traditions that bring out the country’s luminous cultural heart.
In the unassuming Rajasthani town of Pushkar, Diwali coincides with one of the world’s most iconic livestock fairs. The Pushkar Camel Fair, held annually in late October or November during Kartik Purnima, transforms this sleepy desert town into a vase of colour, sound, and scent. Thousands of herders, draped in bright turbans, lead heavily caparisoned camels and horses across the sands. Regionally tasteful competitions for the longest moustache or the most beautifully adorned animal take place under the amber sun, while the evenings see the ghats around Pushkar Lake glow with thousands of lamps. Pilgrims bathe in the lake’s holy waters, musicians strike up rustic folk tunes with a jingle of civilisations within it, and travellers sip steaming chai as the desert air cools. The fair ends with a spiritual crescendo on Kartik Purnima night when Pushkar’s lakefront flickers with thousands of diyas, each reflection trembling like a prayer.
In Goa, Diwali begins before sunrise with Naraka Chaturdashi, a day steeped equally in myth and theatre. The night before, young men and boys parade through streets carrying enormous effigies of the demon king Narakasura, crafted from bamboo, cloth, and papier-mâché. These grotesque figures, some towering over rooftops, are stuffed with firecrackers and painted in lurid hues. As dawn breaks, the effigies are set ablaze, symbolising the victory of Lord Krishna over the demon. The thunder of crackers echoes across narrow lanes, filling the air with smoke, cheers, and the smell of burnt straw. Afterwards, homes are scrubbed clean, doors are freshly painted, and families light lamps to mark purification and renewal. The day continues with Abhyang Snan, the ritual oil bath, followed by feasting and early morning prayers—Goa’s way of greeting the light.
In Odisha, Diwali takes on an intimate, ancestral meaning. As dusk falls, families gather at doorsteps and courtyards for the Badabadua Daka, lighting tall jute sticks known as Kaunriya Kathi. These burning torches are raised to the sky while chanting, “Badabadua ho andhara re asa, aloka re jao,” meaning, “Ancestors, come in darkness and return along the lit path.” The ritual is meant to honour departed souls, guiding them home to bless the living. In Puri, the ritual is accompanied by intricate rangoli designs shaped like boats, representing a safe voyage for the spirits. The sight of flickering torches against the coastal wind and hushed prayers from homes and temples lends Odisha’s Diwali an intimacy absent elsewhere—a festival less about fireworks and more about memory and gratitude.
Fifteen days after Diwali, the holy city of Varanasi celebrates Dev Deepawali—the “Diwali of the Gods.” On this Kartik Purnima night, the ghats along the Ganges shimmer under millions of diyas, creating a river of flame and reflection. Pilgrims descend the steps to perform ritual baths, priests conduct grand Ganga Aartis, and boats filled with devotees float silently downstream, setting lamps adrift upon the water. The spectacle is both celestial and deeply human. From Assi to Dashashwamedh Ghat, the air hums with conch shells, chants, and the soft hiss of oil lamps. For locals, Dev Deepawali marks the victory of light over ignorance; for visitors, it is perhaps the most transcendent festival night anywhere in India.
In Tamil Nadu, the days of light culminates in Karthigai Deepam at Tiruvannamalai, a ritual older than Diwali itself. As evening falls, the Arunachaleswarar Temple lights thousands of lamps while a giant cauldron of ghee atop the sacred Arunachala Hill bursts into flame. The hill’s beacon can be seen miles off, symbolising Lord Shiva’s infinite light. Pilgrims walk barefoot around the mountain in a sacred circumambulation known as girivalam, murmuring prayers as the night sky glows orange from the summit. The air smells of camphor and jasmine, and the town hums softly with reverence. Unlike the revelry of the north, this is a serene Diwali—its light steady, its silence profound.
For Sikhs, the festival aligns with Bandi Chhor Divas, the Day of Liberation. The day commemorates Guru Hargobind Sahib’s release from Mughal imprisonment in 1619, along with fifty-two kings. The Golden Temple in Amritsar turns into a sight of rare splendour, every parapet and causeway outlined in earthen lamps, their glow mirrored perfectly in the sacred pool below. Hymns resound through the marble halls while volunteers serve langar to thousands in attendance. In recent years, fireworks have given way to quieter, eco-conscious observances, but the spirit of gratitude and resilience remains luminous. Standing by the glowing waters, one feels the weight of faith and freedom entwined.
In Bengal, Diwali night belongs to the fierce goddess Kali. While much of India worships Lakshmi, Bengalis dedicate the night to the dark mother, the destroyer of evil and the protector of her devotees. Across Kolkata, elaborate pandals are erected in her honour, lit by flickering oil lamps and coloured gels casting crimson shadows. Idols depict Kali with her garland of skulls and protruding tongue, symbols of destruction and renewal. Devotees offer hibiscus flowers, sweets, and sometimes symbolic offerings of fish and rice. The air is heavy with incense, and chants of “Jai Ma Kali” echo through crowded lanes. It is a night of awe, devotion, and defiance—a reminder that light has many faces, and even darkness can be divine.
Q1. What makes Diwali celebrations unique across India?
Diwali reflects India’s vast diversity. While the core theme of light triumphing over darkness remains, every region celebrates with distinct rituals rooted in local mythology, seasonal cycles, and community practices.
Q2. Why is Pushkar’s cattle fair linked to Diwali?
The Pushkar Fair coincides with Kartik Purnima, the full moon following Diwali, drawing traders and pilgrims for livestock exchanges and holy dips in Pushkar Lake, believed to cleanse sins and bring prosperity.
Q3. What happens during Goa’s Naraka Chaturdashi?
In Goa, locals build huge effigies of the demon Narakasura and set them ablaze at dawn, symbolising the victory of Lord Krishna over evil. It’s a fiery prelude to Diwali festivities.
Q4. What is Odisha’s Kaunriya Kathi ritual?
Families in Odisha light jute-stick lamps and call upon ancestors during Kaunriya Kathi. The ritual merges Diwali’s illumination with ancestral remembrance, offering a deeply spiritual dimension to the festival.
Q5. How is Diwali celebrated differently in South India?
In Tamil Nadu, Diwali marks Lord Krishna’s victory over Narakasura, and in nearby Tamil temples, the Karthigai Deepam festival lights up entire hillsides with thousands of lamps in breathtaking synchrony.
Q6. Is Diwali the same as Bandi Chhor Divas?
Bandi Chhor Divas, celebrated in Amritsar and across Sikh communities, coincides with Diwali but commemorates Guru Hargobind Sahib’s release from Mughal captivity, symbolising freedom and justice rather than victory over evil.
Q7. What is the cultural importance of these regional traditions?
These unique customs preserve India’s plural heritage, linking myth, faith, and local history. Together, they showcase how one festival can unite diverse regions under the shared spirit of light and renewal.
