Happy Rakhi, Leute! It’s that time of the year again when I miss my entire family—Mom, Di-Jiju, all those chachas and chachis, cousin brothers and sisters, bua-phuphaji, and everyone else who would gather at some relative’s place to tie rakhi and then relish homemade Indian cuisine. I miss it all. This drawback hits me hard each time I celebrate any festival in Germany. I have my own family now—my husband, our children, my in-laws—but I still, somehow, have never been able to celebrate any festival the way I used to in India.

I think I know the reason. Back in India, all I had to do was dress up, help my mom with some festival-specific household chores, and go to my cousins’ place. I didn’t have to plan anything as a parent. Now, as a parent and with a German husband, I’m the only one who has to put in the effort if I want the celebration to feel authentic. Today, I did just that and I am damn proud of myself. I woke up and wanted to leave early for the office but realized it was Rakhi (also, my mom and sister reminded me repeatedly yesterday). I dressed up, got our kids dressed, and prepared a thali with rakhis, haldi and chawal, kishmish (raisins), and dried cranberries as sweets, two flowers, and some water droplets for the teeka. It felt amazing. All those memories of silly games, chats, and running around came flooding back.

This experience taught me a valuable lesson. You can miss many things for various reasons. You can either complain about it or make an effort to relive and cherish those memories while creating new ones for the future. I chose to do both: first complain, then fulfill my duties, and finally make memories. It was truly wonderful, Leute. Ich kann es nicht glauben, wie schön mein Tag war!