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NAVRATRI FESTIVAL IN LEICESTER |
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It's time for Navratri - the Hindu festival of nine nights. Leicester is the number one city in the UK to celebrate Navratri, and over 100,000 people took part last year. Twenty-one-year-old English Literature student Amisha Desai travelled from her native Portsmouth to join in Navratri celebrations in Leicester. Read her account below. (And watch this space for Navratri video and audio coming soon.)
highlights from the Navratri Festival (2:19)
to local people give their views on the Navratri Festival (2:20)
to music from the Sona Rupi Navratri event (18:49)
 All things Indian are a novelty to me鈥nd I鈥檓 Indian. Let me explain. Being a gujarati girl in Portsmouth is like being an Eskimo in the desert. I鈥檝e tried not to lose touch with my cultural roots but its difficult when living in a town which is as diverse as a bag of minstrels. We settled in Portsmouth around 16 years ago and my parents have always stuck by Indian traditions; washing dishes in running water rather than a soapy bowl, eating with our fingers (unless its something like spaghetti), lighting a diva every morning in our miniature wooden temple. It鈥檚 these little things that they鈥檒l never forget and which they鈥檇 never want me to either.
But when it comes to events like weddings, festivals, and even visiting my aunt in Wembley, I always get so excited. I don鈥檛 usually have the chance to do something so 鈥業ndian鈥 and I feast on the atmosphere, the smells and the vibrancy of picking okra at an Ealing Road Grocers or eating crispy dosas at Sakoni鈥檚. Imagine, in which case, how I feel when I celebrate Navaratri, one of the biggest Hindu festivals, in Leicester, one of the UK鈥檚 gujarati honey pots.
 Navaratri and all it entails, is so alien to me yet simultaneously I feel at home. The festival, which runs over 9 nights, is centred around three divine goddesses, Saraswati, Lakshmi and Durga and their triumph over evil, yet it seems for many young people the religious aspect is pushed aside in pursuit of more 鈥榠nteresting鈥 preoccupations i.e. 鈥榳hat to wear?鈥. Many a girl I鈥檓 sure has mused over the dilemma, 鈥淪hall I wear the pink 鈥榗holi鈥 suit with the silver beading? Or the suit with gold sequins and the two-tone fabric?鈥 and then at the event itself, swooned and sighed over all the other lavish dresses on display鈥nd what a display! It鈥檚 like an array of tropical birds are showing off their impressive plumage, ruby reds, canary yellows, midnight blues, swirling around the hall in perfect time to the beat.
The beauty of the dance is that it鈥檚 really simple. Even novices like me, can pick up the steps faster than a toddler can eat chocolate. I must confess to feeling a tad apprehensive at first, as I watched the more experienced garba-goers gracefully dancing round and round, throwing in the occasional flourish, or clap, making the masi鈥檚 coo, 鈥榦h, she has such style鈥. But eventually, I get dragged in by my persistent cousin and although a tad clumsy at first, soon look like a pro.
 The music is contagious, and once you start the 鈥榞arba鈥 everything else dissolves and only the rhythm and the dance seems to exist. Now, I don鈥檛 want to sound like one of those, 鈥渙h yeah man, you start dancing man, and then, its like, wow, there鈥檚 only you and the beat, man鈥 (you know the type) but it鈥檚 true. The music progressively becomes faster and before you realise it you鈥檙e whirling around, clapping and hitting 鈥榙andiya鈥 at an alarming rate. The circle of dancers also increases rapidly, multiplying faster than gremlins, as shy girls and brave boys are enticed into the throng. By the end of the night, the only people sitting are old masi鈥檚 and 鈥業 couldn鈥檛 possibly join in, I鈥檝e got bad knees鈥 dads, huddled together, talking politics and marriages, absorbing the energy.
The evening ends on a beautiful note, as young and old alike gather around and harmoniously sing 鈥榓rti鈥 to the gods. Flushed faces light up with the flickering glow of the 鈥榙ivas鈥, and even small children seem to understand that something special is happening (either that, or they鈥檙e being quiet so that they can eat the sweets at the end). Finally, 鈥榩rashad鈥 is given to outstretched hands, Indian sweets, fruit and nuts that have been blessed by the gods. With creamy, saffrony 鈥榩enda鈥 in tow and warmth in my heart, I leave the hall with aching feet.
Amisha Desai
For lots more information and pictures on the Navratri visit .
Also in our Festival Calendar: Watch a spectacular Chariot Festival in Tooting, South London.
Photos by Dipak Joshi of Roots joint initiative of 大象传媒 and Eastmidland Arts
  
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