That Diwali, for me, felt less like a festival and more like a well-earned break after months of nonstop hustle. Weeks of planning shoots, scripting videos, arranging props, creating DIY decor, and ensuring every product placement was perfect had left little room for personal celebration.
I remember standing in the shop, finalizing shots, adjusting lighting, and tweaking scripts, while the festival outside unfolded without me. The rangoli I had painstakingly made for a shoot — something I usually loved — felt boring this time. I had already done so many for shoots and campaigns that the joy of creating it for myself or others had dulled. The meticulous placement of products, coordination with photographers and team members — all of it demanded complete focus. By the time the content was ready, the actual Diwali feeling had almost slipped away.
It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy the work — I loved seeing the final videos, the aesthetics come alive, and the products integrated seamlessly. But the personal joy of the festival, the quiet moments of celebration with family, the simple rituals that make Diwali feel like Diwali, were largely absent. The work had become the festival, and perfection had subtly replaced presence.
This experience taught me that execution, while necessary, has a cost. Giving your all can create something beautiful for others, but it can also dim the personal joy you hope to experience. That Diwali, I realized that taking even a small pause for yourself amidst a big project isn’t indulgence — it’s essential. Because festivals aren’t just milestones on a calendar; they’re energy, presence, and shared joy — and no amount of perfect execution can replace that feeling.
-Radhika Bansal