We didn’t send out invites https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diwali , but Diwali showed up anyway—taking the scenic route, cruising down memory lane, and gently tapping at our hearts. It wasn’t the festive bash the calendar promised; it was the celebration our souls were ready for. So, come on in to “Off The Almanac: Diwali Took The Detour.”

No fireworks announced its arrival. No rituals rushed us out of bed at dawn. Diwali came quietly this year, like a whispered memory. It didn’t need a date to feel real—it only needed us to notice.

To know the deets of us visiting a new trail at Rouge Hill on Diwali in 2023, click on Hiking Bliss On Diwali : On A Festive Sunday – Wander, Feast & Thrive

Diwali Took The Detour : Off The Almanac

Waking up late by 9:30 on a Sunday, I didn’t realize it was Diwali. There was no festive buzz or early oil bath. The day began slowly, with chores, as hot beverages warmed the gloomy morning while we folded laundry and caught up on WhatsApp calls with family in India.

Each call carried the sound of celebrations far away—crackling laughter, background chants, the festive chaos we missed so dearly. A heavy feeling settled in my chest as I thought about my parents in Erode, imagining how the house must be glowing with lamps and voices.

We decided not to let the day slip away in silence. Though the sky stayed grey, the weather had that soft, crisp beauty that makes stepping out feel like a gentle escape. We got ready, headed out, and took the subway to Finch station before catching a bus to Saravana Bhavan.

The familiar aroma of South Indian food greeted us before we even stepped in. Their special Diwali buffet felt like a warm hug—a comforting reminder of home, even miles away. We lingered over each dish, savoring not just the flavors but the fleeting sense of festivity it brought with it.

Rain Threatened To Return : Diwali Took A Detour

The rain threatened to return and it did, so we chose to spend the rest of the day indoors. After a long time, we made our way to Scarborough Town Centre, letting nostalgia wrap around us as we strolled through familiar spaces. Grocery shopping at Walmart, wandering through Winners, and sipping hot drinks from Tim Hortons gave the day a quiet, cozy rhythm.

Later, we took the bus to the Thirupathy Venkatachalapathy Temple. The moment we stepped inside, the calmness of the temple wrapped around us. We prayed for everyone’s well-being, letting the fragrance of incense and the soft chants soothe the ache of distance.

Returning home that evening, we wished friends and family a happy Diwali. It hit us—this was our Diwali. There were no grand rituals or loud celebrations, but the day had carved its place in our hearts. Even with a heavy heart for not being in India and at Erode, we found warmth in making the day our own.

It wasn’t the Diwali we were used to, but it turned out to be the one we needed. A mix of rain, routine, food, and faith—stitched together into something unexpectedly special. Even far from home, the festival found us. And that, somehow, made it unforgettable.