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This Diwali, Buy From The Streets And Don't Bargain!

By Nandini Rao

As Diwali draws near, its glow spreads into every corner, illuminating our bustling streets, glowing homes, and stirring hopeful anticipation in every heart. This year, let that light extend not just to those who can afford the trappings of celebration but to those whose livelihoods depend on these very festivities. You may have seen them—along busy crossroads, under humble makeshift canopies, by the wayside, and outside your neighborhood lanes—selling delicate garlands of marigold, vibrant diyas, and traditional artifacts that fill our homes with warmth. Their stalls may lack the gloss of malls and department stores, yet they hold something more priceless: the spirit of Diwali itself.

"I bring these flowers from the market every morning," says Shobha Vasu, a flower seller near Babulnath Temple near Chowpatty in Mumbai. "It’s hard work, but I want to sell enough to light diyas in my own home." In a world where premium shopping malls and well-decked departmental stores now hold grand Diwali displays, these roadside sellers persist with their simple offerings. While the malls glimmer with premium price tags, discounted yet profitable, these modest vendors make do with whatever meager income they can gather to keep food on their tables and spark joy in their own households. Their offerings—handmade, often locally sourced—carry the fragrance of honest labor and the warmth of Diwali celebrated in its truest form.

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It’s easy to overlook these vendors amidst the allure of malls offering discounts and the ease of swiping a card at air-conditioned counters. Yet, as you scan these marketplaces for your Diwali needs this year, pause to consider the vendors whose income rides on a brief festival season. “For us, Diwali means longer hours, hoping we sell enough to afford sweets for our children,” says Arjun Nanipat, who molds clay diyas with his family at his chawl in Worli. When you buy that string of jasmine, that vibrant marigold garland, or the earthen diyas from a vendor by the street, you are doing more than just making a purchase—you are supporting a family’s Diwali.

Imagine, for a moment, the light of the diya you place at your doorstep spreading its radiance not just in your home but to a vendor’s home miles away. You may not know their names, but your choice to spend a little more—yes, without bargaining or haggling—carries immense meaning. “People think if they pay less, we’ll still manage, but these small amounts make a difference,” notes Ravi, a young vendor who helps his mother sell garlands at Mumbai's Opera House signal. The extra few rupees may mean new clothes for a vendor's children, a modest Diwali meal, or just the gift of lighting their own diyas at dusk with pride and joy.

This Diwali, let your purchases carry purpose. Step away from the malls and big-brand stores; seek out the humble stalls on your street corner, the lady selling garlands near the temple, the family with their diya stall by the roadside. Pay a little extra if you can, not out of charity but out of celebration. Let your festival of lights truly be a festival for all, a time when no one is left in the shadows. “We’re grateful to those who understand and don’t bargain,” says Meera, who arranges marigolds at her stand. This year, as you light up your home, help light up another. Let every diya you buy from a roadside vendor be a beacon of hope and a gift of Diwali's true spirit.

As you stroll through the lanes lined with these vendors, you’ll notice something—the undeniable authenticity in each creation. The garlands, meticulously strung with hands that know each petal, the diyas molded with care and precision, and the handcrafted rangoli powders radiate with a simplicity you won’t find in a store-bought item. It’s a charm that only comes from the sweat of labour and the pride of creation. Each purchase becomes a bridge between you and the artisan, a small yet powerful gesture that affirms the value of their work and the dignity of their livelihood.

“I hope to sell enough this year to buy sweets for my family,” says Colaba's Jignesh Rathod, a father of two who molds diyas all year round, relying on Diwali sales to break even. These vendors represent the lifeblood of our streets, embodying an industry that isn’t just about selling but about sustaining the very fabric of our cultural heritage. Think of the elderly woman hunched over, deftly arranging flowers with fingers calloused from years of work, or the young child who helps his parents sell diyas, his eyes lighting up with each sale. They don’t have the luxury of advertising or the cushion of large profits, yet they stand resilient, their spirits lifted by the hope that this Diwali will bring them the warmth of steady earnings.

And in buying from them, you’re part of a much larger chain—a ripple effect that uplifts more than just one family. You are supporting the farmers who grew the marigold, the potters who molded the clay diyas, and the small artisans who poured their skill into creating the handicrafts we adore. Your choice becomes a nod to an entire ecosystem that, if neglected, might struggle to survive. “We don’t expect much, just enough to celebrate like everyone else,” says Sita Rathod, whose hands bear the color stains of endless garland arrangements.

As the evening draws in and you see families lighting diyas across the city, know that the glow in your home mirrors the smiles you’ve spread with each humble purchase. Diwali is more than just illuminating homes; it’s about illuminating hearts and lives, giving hope where it’s most needed. This festival, celebrate with the joy of knowing you’ve brought light not just into your home but into the lives of those who made it all possible.

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So, this Diwali, make your purchases a conscious celebration. Forego the polished floors of the mall for the earthy fragrance of the roadside stalls, where every item tells a story of persistence, hope, and pride. Walk past the shimmering glass storefronts and find that lady in a worn saree, or that young boy selling diyas under a dim streetlight, whose offerings may lack polish but overflow with heart.

And as you leave, don’t forget to wish them a happy Diwali. This simple greeting, shared with genuine warmth, is more than an exchange of words—it’s a reminder that in this season of light, we are all connected. “Every smile and ‘Happy Diwali’ gives us a sense of belonging,” shares Vinayak, a vendor whose stall is aglow with clay diyas of every size. With each purchase from a roadside vendor, you are part of a tradition that celebrates humanity, a gesture that gives a glimmer of hope to someone who, in their modest way, keeps the essence of Diwali alive for us all.

This Diwali, be the light in someone else’s life. Buy with a heart that embraces all, for isn’t that the very spirit of Diwali?

This Diwali, let’s remember that it isn’t just about filling our homes with light but about spreading that light to every corner, every heart. The joy we feel as we decorate, cook, and celebrate is something we have the privilege of creating, but for the vendors along our city streets, it’s the small yet essential support we give that brings their Diwali to life. It’s the twinkle in their eyes when they manage to sell just one more garland, the spark of hope when someone refuses to bargain and instead smiles warmly and pays just a little more.

“Our flowers don’t last beyond the day,” says Kamla Devi, a garland-seller at Dadar Railway Station whose offerings are as vibrant as her determination. “But the happiness they bring to people’s homes stays on.” Her words capture the essence of what makes these small purchases more than mere transactions; they are connections woven with warmth and shared hope.

As you plan your Diwali shopping, remember the faces that await your support—the vendor weaving flower garlands, her hands quick yet gentle, the potter painting diyas with painstaking care, and the craftsman who polishes each small artefact with pride. Their offerings, though modest, are imbued with the strength and spirit of the Diwali we all cherish. Every diya you buy, every garland, each piece of decoration carries a story of resilience and hope, stitched together by people whose entire festival season depends on your small yet significant choices.

In the end, it is not just the lights in our homes but the light we bring into the lives of others that truly defines Diwali. So this year, as you place each diya at your doorstep, know that you have shared its glow with a family that relies on your kindness. Together, let us all bring the spirit of Diwali alive by supporting those who need it most. After all, it’s in the simplest of gestures, like the smile of a seller and the warmth of a “Happy Diwali” exchanged, that we find the true meaning of the festival.

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