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Gifts for prosperity and joy; women’s autumn style essentials; and the best leaf blowers, tested
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As a kid, Diwali was five days of sensory overload: flickering lamps, friends and relatives you hadn’t seen since last Diwali, and mithai served on repeat until joy curdled into sugar-induced despair.
Growing up in Wales in the 90s, I rejected almost all of it. Being Asian felt like a marker of otherness, and when your teenage mission is fitting in, a celebration of being Indian wasn’t all that appealing. So I joined in half-heartedly, but longed for the escape hatch of a sweaty metal gig with my friends where identity didn’t feel quite so loaded.
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