The day typically begins early, often led by the mother or grandmother, who is frequently the first to wake.

Leaving the house is never quiet. It involves tying a raksha dhaga (holy thread) on the wrist of the college-going son, tucking money for bus fare into a daughter’s pocket, and the mandatory warning: “Time se aana, andho ki tarah gaadi mat chalana” (Come on time, don’t drive like a blind man).

Around 11 AM, after the office-goers leave, the house enters a lull. This is when my grandmother sits on the swing (the oonjal ) in the verandah. She doesn’t need a phone. Her entertainment is watching the neighbors.

Last Diwali, the grandfather decided to hang the fairy lights himself. He fell off the ladder. No serious injury, but for four hours, the family was a frenzy of panic, blame, and relief. The daughter-in-law refused to speak to the son because he was "watching cricket instead of holding the ladder." The grandmother yelled at the grandfather for being "too proud for his age." By nightfall, they were all eating gulab jamun together, laughing about how "grandpa flies better than the fireworks."