On this Thanksgiving Day, Indian social media feeds are flooded with images of roast turkey, pumpkin pies, and family gatherings, all under the banner of Thanksgiving. It’s curious, though, because this is not an Indian festival, nor does it have any roots in our history or culture. Thanksgiving, for those who may not know, marks the survival of European settlers in America, made possible by the kindness of Native Americans.
But what relevance does this have to us? Did our ancestors journey across the Atlantic? Did Native Americans teach us how to grow maize? Yet, here we are, embracing this foreign tradition with enthusiasm, eager to showcase our ‘modern’ selves by aligning with Western customs — even at the expense of sidelining our own.
Quick to adopt, quicker to abandon
Thanksgiving is not the only example. Look around, and you’ll see how easily we Indians latch onto every imported celebration. Valentine’s Day is now a staple in February; Halloween has crept into urban neighbourhoods with costumes and pumpkins; even Black Friday sales are advertised as if it’s a national event. Yet, when it comes to our own traditions, we are quick to dismiss them as outdated or inconvenient.
Take Diwali, for instance. Once a celebration of light and hope, it’s now under siege from eco-warriors who brand it as a noisy nuisance. Holi, with its vibrant colours and camaraderie, is reduced to debates about water wastage. Sankranti? Dismissed as a ‘village thing.’ Our festivals, rooted in centuries of history, wisdom, and seasonal cycles, are abandoned in favour of celebrations that have no roots here.
Why this hypocrisy? Why are we so eager to align ourselves with alien traditions while looking down upon our own? Perhaps it’s because we have conditioned ourselves to believe that anything foreign is inherently superior, even if it is irrelevant to our lives.
Gratitude begins at home
Thanksgiving is marketed as a day to express gratitude … a noble concept, no doubt. But do we really need a foreign calendar to teach us gratitude? India has always been a land of thanksgiving, embedded in the very fabric of our festivals and rituals. Makar Sankranti celebrates the harvest, thanking the Sun God and the earth for their bounty. Pongal in Tamil Nadu echoes the same sentiments. Diwali, while symbolising the triumph of good over evil, also carries undertones of thankfulness for prosperity and new beginnings.
These are not just festivals but expressions of gratitude woven into our agricultural and social fabric. Yet, we trivialise them, branding them as ‘archaic’ or lacking modern relevance, while rushing to adopt foreign celebrations without understanding their context.
The cost of cultural amnesia
This blind adoption of Western customs comes at a cost. With every Thanksgiving dinner, Halloween party, or Valentine’s Day card, we are erasing a piece of our cultural identity. More worryingly, we are passing this borrowed culture to the next generation, leaving them disconnected from their roots. How many urban Indian children today can explain the significance of Sankranti or Ugadi? Can they connect these festivals to the changing seasons or agricultural cycles? Or are they more familiar with turkey stuffing and Santa Claus?
Our festivals are not just about rituals; they are about community, nature, and heritage. Holi’s colours signify the end of winter and the arrival of spring. Diwali’s lamps symbolise hope and unity. Ignoring these for foreign imports makes us cultural orphans and always looking outward for validation.
A plea to rethink priorities
This is not a call to reject globalisation or diverse influences outright. By all means, celebrate love, gratitude, or joy as these are universal values. But why not do so within the framework of your own culture? If gratitude is the goal, why not express it on Sankranti, Diwali, or even during a family meal? Why must we chase a Western calendar to remind ourselves of values that our own traditions already embody?
As a nation, we are too eager to trade our identity for borrowed glamour. We fail to see that our traditions are not just rituals; they are reservoirs of wisdom, linked to the land, the seasons, and the lives of the people. These are not archaic; they are timeless.
Before jumping on the Thanksgiving bandwagon, let’s pause and reflect. Are we so ashamed of our own heritage that we need to borrow someone else’s? Or are we simply too lazy to understand the beauty and depth of our traditions? Gratitude begins at home. Let’s learn to embrace our own festivals before adopting those that belong to a different world, a different history, and a different people. After all, if we cannot value our own, what exactly are we thankful for?