This week is the start of Diwali. The Hindu festival of lights, as the bell sounded for the Diwali holiday at school, the children went wild, with balloons and sweets wishing everyone a ‘Happy Deepawali.’

On the eve of Diwali I went to my first true Indian party with my home-stay. In my Kurta I felt the part. The atmosphere of the party was amazing; with so many people to talk to, music, dance, authentic food and drink, gambling and various pujas, it gave me a taste of how hospitable and warming people are here and how they really ‘go to town’ for festivals.

As soon as darkness descended on Bangalore, Diwali really came alive. The clear nights sky was broke up by sparkling colour all evening, it doesn’t really compare to November 5th back in England. We decorated the outside of the house with lamps and then sat back and watched the action from the roof top. The array of colours and the deafening bangs, made conversation difficult. The streets were compact with large groups of families lighting crackers and sparklers.

Diwali season brings a smile on many people’s faces and for many it spells happiness and joy and I am happy to have been apart of it.

It is hard to believe that I have been here for nearly 2 months now. I have explored Bangalore, which feels like home, but everyday I come across something different, something new that surprises me, makes me laugh or even saddens me.

India is so full of culture, which is vastly different from any other I have witnessed before; the chaotic roads, poverty, stray dogs and open sewers, the early morning call to prayer from the mosque, from the bustle of Bangalore to the beauty of Mysore and Hyderabad, I have become accustomed to many things here and I can foresee that my time in India will stay with me for the rest of my life.