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The house is lit with diyas—small oil lamps—and rangoli patterns made of colored powder decorate the entrance. We eat samosas, crispy and filled with spiced potatoes, and jalebi, sweet and syrupy. Firecrackers pop outside, lighting up the night, and we dance to traditional music. I hold a diya in my hand, feeling its warmth, and smile at the joy around me. This celebration isn’t just a holiday—it’s light, love, and family, making the darkest nights bright.

A chunk of cherry wood spins on my lathe, and I use a gouge to shape its curves, following the grain like a map. The wood’s red tones deepen as I sand it, until it’s smooth enough to run my finger along without a single splinter. I finish with beeswax, which makes the grain glow warm and rich. Using the bowl for cereal each morning feels like holding a piece of nature—this craft isn’t just making dishware, but creating something that grows more beloved with every use.​

Goat’s milk, coconut oil, and lavender essential oil mix into a creamy soap batter. I pour it into molds shaped like hearts, adding dried lavender buds on top. After curing for four weeks, the soap is soft and moisturizing, smelling of lavender and fresh milk. Using it in the shower feels like a luxury, gentle on my skin. This craft isn’t just making soap—it’s self-care, turning a daily routine into something special.​

Oats, peanut butter, and pumpkin mix into a dough, which I roll out and cut into bone shapes. Baking them fills the kitchen with a nutty scent, and my dog waits by the oven, wagging his tail. When I give him one, he chews it happily. This isn’t just cooking—it’s love, where a simple treat makes my furry friend’s day.​

Parades fill the street with samba dancers in sequined costumes, their hips moving to the drumbeat. Floats tower overhead, decorated with feathers and glitter, while the crowd screams and claps. I join in, dancing badly but joyfully, sweat and confetti sticking to my skin. This isn’t just a party—it’s life unfiltered, loud and proud.​

Houses glow with oil lamps and string lights, while fireworks burst in the sky, painting it with color. Children run around with sparklers, laughing, and families share sweets like gulab jamun. I join in lighting a lamp, feeling the warmth in both my hands and heart. This celebration isn’t just lights—it’s joy, where darkness is chased away by light, love, and community.​