Diwali with Dishoom-walli Sanskritii

With each new season of South Asian festivals, celebrations and customs, we sit down with dear friends to explore the significance of these moments to them.

This time, we indulge in a warm and wonderful chat with – Bombay-born Content and Partnerships-Walli at Dishoom – whose affection for her hometown is as vibrant and infectious as the city itself. In this interview, Sans wholeheartedly shares her love for Diwali, from childhood memories in Lucknow and unforgettable feasts, to family rituals that make the celebration ever more intimate and joyful.

➺ What does Diwali mean to you?

Diwali has always been a riot of colour for me, hues of orange and red everywhere, big blooming marigold torans hanging at the entrance of homes, and twinkling lights strung across every balcony. I remember Mumma carefully putting together her gift bags for all her friends – wrapped in extravagant paper and ribbons, each one filled with little treasures like diyas, mithai, candles and incense.

It’s the time when celebrations truly begin, when we hope for fresher beginnings and welcome the new year with open arms. The Bombay airport is at its busiest, with so many of us flying home to be with friends and family, filling Bombay with that unmistakable festive buzz. At its heart, Diwali is about the triumph of good over evil, and all that comes with it: vibrancy, food, togetherness, love and light.

➺ What’s on the table at your Diwali feast? Is there an absolute must-have dish and who makes this best?

It’s proper ‘pakka khana’ – the kind of feast where there’s no cutting corners, no thawing anything from the freezer, and definitely no cooking on the tawa. Everything’s made fresh and festive. There are puris and kachoris puffed to perfection, bowls of raita, mattar paneer, aloo gobhi, dahi vada, chole and fragrant pulao. And of course, there’s always Mumma’s famous kheer and an unapologetic spread of laddus and mithai in every shape and shade of sweetness.

The mattar paneer is the absolute must-have, it’s my Naani’s recipe and my mum makes it the best. My dad loves it so much that back in the day, Mum would carry boxes of it from Lucknow to Bombay if he couldn’t make the trip himself. It’s that kind of dish – full of comfort and pure nostalgia.

➺ What are your earliest memories of celebrating Diwali? Do you remember the feeling of lighting sparklers and diyas as a child?

When I was younger, Diwali meant journeying up north to Lucknow to visit my grandparents, and hiding under the bed with our family dog, Candy, every time the crackers went off. I was always a little scared of the firecrackers, so I’d cling to Mumma’s dupatta for safety. And I’d get dressed in my childhood gold sparkly kurta or a lehenga – the one day of the year I’d really go all out in Indian wear. But I loved decorating the house with rangoli, flexing my artistic muscles and lighting the diyas with her. The twinkle of all those lights felt as magical then as it does now.

These days, it’s about flying home each year to dive straight back into the best bits of Indian festivity – kicking off Diwali taash season with my dad’s birthday, gathering around food, laughter and plenty of love.

➺ How does Diwali come alive at your home?

Whilst my family isn’t particularly traditional, we all love to partake in the potent energies of the season. Our now unconventional mandir (home temple) is a beautiful wooden frame that used to be part of our old home bar – creatively converted into a gorgeous mandir by my mum.

Diwali comes alive in every sense at our home – diyas flickering, colourful rangoli at the doorstep, bouquets of mogra, tuberoses and marigolds, sparkling outfits and the scents of incense, ghee and sweets filling the air. We do an intimate Laxmi pooja as a family in the evening, before heading out to parties.

While Diwali is a specific day, the celebrations around it stretch for a whole month. Cities across India come alive with the same euphoric energy – everyone cleaning, decorating and celebrating in their own way.

➺ Who are you giving your last bites of Gulab Jamun and Motichoor Ladoo to?

Fudge, my little Shih Tzu who lives in Bombay with my parents – he has the sweetest tooth and probably wishes he were human. His beautiful brown eyes follow anyone holding a bowl of kheer, gulab jamun or ladoo, and I always wish I could give him a bite… but sweetly remind him it’s not good for dogs. I also save a piece for my ancestors, as a little ‘thank you’ for their blessings.