When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillnesshttps://mysticalmomworld.com/dividing-house-chores-changed-my-peace-parenting-and-practice/

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: A Mother’s Dasara Story of Strength and Stillness…Festivals in India are not just about rituals; they are about togetherness, laughter, and creating memories that stay with us for a lifetime. Among them, Dasara (Navratri) holds a special place. The lights, the prayers, the decorated streets, the temple bells, and the joy of children running around in new clothes-this is the heartbeat of the season.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly

But this year, as the world outside danced in the spirit of Navratri, our home stood still. Not because we didn’t want to celebrate, but because life had other plans for us.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Dreams That Couldn’t Take Flight

For weeks before Dasara, I had been making plans in my heart. I wanted to take my kids out for at least two days of pure joy-let them see the beautifully decorated temples, play in the pandals, maybe even enjoy the cultural programs that brighten ourcity during this season.

I had one more dream: I wanted to attend events where I could explore my potential as an artist. It’s something that brings me joy, creativity, and a chance to connect with children and families. Festivals are the perfect time for such small ventures, and I had been looking forward to being part of the festive crowds with my paints and brushes.

But when the time came, my body simply said no. My health issues grew severe, and I found myself confined to bed, watching my dreams slip away like sand through my fingers.

A Father’s Silent Sacrifice

As if that wasn’t enough, my husband too is dealing with his own storm-living with a broken femur neck. For him every step is a challenge. He couldn’t jump around with kids, couldn’t carry them on his shoulders to show them the glowing lights, couldn’t run behind them at temple fairs.

But he didn’t give up. With the strength he could muster, he took the children to the temple in the morning, and in the evening, he took them outside to play in the sand. It may sound small compared to grand celebrations, but in that moment, it was everything.

For my children, it was their little slice of Dasara-tiny hands digging castles in the sand, giggles echoing in the evening breeze, and the temple bells ringing softly in the background.

My Children’s Innocence

I had feared that my children would feel the absence of celebration. After all, festivals are about fun for them-new clothes, outings, sweets, and cultural programs. They saw other children heading out in glittering dresses, families posting festival photos, and the roads lighting up with joy.

I worried they would ask me, “Why not us?” But children have an innocence that shields them from bitterness. My little ones adapted. They filled their day with cartoons, games at home, painted themselves along with the walls and laughter on the bed beside me. They even visited a neighbour’s house for kanjak pooja. They never once complained about not going out, not getting new dresses.

Instead, they gave me strength. They became my little festival, bringing joy in the smallest ways-even if it was just through their silly jokes or tight hugs when I felt like crying.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: The Festival That Didn’t Look Like One

When I looked around my home, I realized something painful-there was no sign of the festival at all. No colorful rangoli at the door, no fragrance of flowers, no sounds of laughter from relatives visiting.

Dasara was happening everywhere, but inside my four walls, it was just another day. A mother lying in bed, a father struggling with his pain, and two little children making the best of what they had.

It hurt. It hurt deeply to see the festival go by while we stayed behind. To know that I couldn’t give my children what every parent dreams of-happy memories to cherish. To accept that my body didn’t allow me to attend even a single event, not even the art venture I had been so excited about.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Lessons From The Goddess Herself

And yet, in the middle of this silence, I felt the presence of Goddess Durga. She didn’t come in the form of grand celebrations or temple visits. She came in the form of quite strength.

Dasara is about the victory of good over evil, strength over weakness, and hope over despair. This year, my “demons” were not mythical monsters but my own health struggles, my husband’s injury, and the sadness of unfilled plans. And yet, even in this battle, I found moments of victory.

Victory was in my husband’s determination to take the kids to the temple despite his broken leg. Victory was in my children’s laughter, proving that joy doesn’t always need grandness. Victory was in my ability to endure my pain while still being present with my family.

What This Dasara Taught Me

This year, I learned that festivals don’t always come wrapped in bright colors. Sometimes, they come in shades of gray, testing our patience, our strength, and our love for one another.

Yes, I missed the crowd, the music, the lights, and the energy of celebration. Yes, my heart still aches that I couldn’t watch my children run with other kids in festive outfits, couldn’t give them the joy I had envisioned.

But maybe, just maybe, this Dasara gave me something else-an understanding that love and togetherness matter more than decorations and outings. That strength is not in being able to do everything, but in enduring when you can do very little.

When Festivals Pass By Quietly: Looking Ahead With Hope

I close this Dasara with a prayer. A prayer that next year, life will be kinder. That my body will allow me to take my kids out in the bright lights of Navratri. That my husband’s strength will be restored, and he can walk beside them without pain. That I can set up my art venture, adding colors to children’s smiles, and feel like I truly belong in the festival crowd.

But even if life tests us again, I know this much-the spirit of Dasara lives in our hearts. As long as we hold on to love, faith, and resilience, no festival can ever pass us by completely.

Closing Thought

Not every festival is meant to be grand. Some festivals remind us of our limitations, while also teaching us about hidden strengths. This Dasara, I didn’t see the processions, didn’t hear the drums up so close, and didn’t light my home with decorations. Yet, I saw something deeper-I saw the strength of my husband, the innocence of my children, and the quite presence of the Goddess in our little world.

This Dasara wasn’t about what we couldn’t do. It was about what we still managed to hold on to-faith, family, and love.

https://www.kidsmentalhealthfoundation.org/mental-health-resources/stress/handling-holiday-stress