NEHA SHARMA
Every year, as the first diya flickers to life before Diwali, something changes in our homes. The air smells ofsweets and fresh paint, laughter fills the rooms, and children run around excitedly, helping in small ways or at least pretending to. To a grown-up, it might look like chaos. But to a child, it’s magic. Festivals have a way of speaking to children long before they can understand their meanings. They don’t hear the sermons or read the scriptures, but they feel what celebrations stand for: warmth, sharing, joy, and togetherness. These early memories, year after year, shape how a young mind learns to love, to give, and to belong. Lessons Hidden in Lights When we think about what truly builds a child’s values, it isn’t only the lessons taught in school or the advice repeated at home. Much of it comes quietly, through what they see and do. A child helping to clean the house before Diwali learns more than just dusting, they learn responsibility. The little one helping their grandmother make sweets is also learning patience and care. And when a teenager joins the family in decorating the house or lighting diyas, they experience the strength of teamwork, even if nobody calls it that. Festivals, in that sense, are silent teachers. They remind children that joy comes from being part of something bigger a family, a community, a story. The Changing Meaning for Teenagers For younger children, Diwali is all sparkle and sweets. But for teenagers, the festival can mean something deeper. It’s a pause in their busy, pressure-filled routines a moment to step away from screens and reconnect with real people. Teenagers today face more distractions and comparisons than any generation before them. Social media tells them how to look, dress, think, and even celebrate. Festivals, when kept true to their purpose, pull them back toward what’s real. The laughter of cousins, the smell of incense, the rhythm of a family working together, these are not just moments; they’re memories that ground them. If adults take the time to explain why we celebrate, not just how, teenagers start to see festivals differently. The story of Diwali of light defeating darkness, of homecoming and renewal, is more than mythology. It’s a timeless reminder that no matter how long the night, light always returns. And that message, understood young, becomes a way of seeing life. When Values Fade Behind Glitter: But there’s another side to this story. Somewhere along the way, for many families, festivals have started to look more like social events than emotional ones. The focus shifts to shopping lists, Instagram posts, and grand decorations while the meaning fades quietly into the background. Children pick up what they see. When they see adults worrying about clothes or parties more than kindness and connection, they learn that celebration is about show, not soul. That’s when the real purpose of a festival is lost.It isn’t wrong to enjoy the fun, the food, or the fireworks. But if that becomes the only focus, we teach our children that joy is something you display, not something you feel. The Role of Adults: Parents and teachers play the biggest part in shaping how children and teens see festivals. It’s not about lectures or big speeches; it’s about small actions that carry quiet lessons. When families take time to give, donating clothes, food, or even time, they show children what compassion looks like. When schools organise eco-friendly Diwali drives, they teach that responsibility doesn’t end with celebration.A teenager who helps light diyas instead of bursting crackers learns something important: joy doesn’t have to come at someone else’s cost. That single change in perspective can last a lifetime. A Festival for the Mind and Heart: Festivals also help balance the emotional life of young people. Between exams, expectations, and endless online comparisons, most teenagers are stretched thin. Diwali, or any cultural festival, acts like an emotional reset button a reminder that rest and reflection matter. The lights, the laughter, and the sense of belonging all work quietly to rebuild what stress wears down. Psychologists call it “emotional anchoring” the comfort that comes from shared traditions and familiar rituals. In simple terms, it’s how a child learns that they are not alone. A Spark That Lasts: The beauty of Diwali isn’t just in the lamps that glow for one night. It’s in the light that stays within a child who grows up seeing goodness rewarded, sharing valued, and love celebrated. If, as adults, we can show children that Diwali is not just a festival of lights but also a festival of learning, learning to be kind, to be grateful, and to be content, we would be passing on something truly precious. Imagine a generation that celebrates with purpose children who see joy in helping, teenagers who choose diyas over fireworks, families who sit together without phones between them. That’s when festivals stop being holidays and start becoming heritage. So, as you light that first diya tonight, take a moment to notice who’s watching a child whose values are forming, a teenager whose beliefs are taking shape. Your example may be the spark that guides their way long after the lights have faded. |