Are we losing the essence of Deusi-Bhailo?

Whenever Sushmita Chaulagain, 21, from Banepa, thinks of Tihar, two things come to her mind: light and Deusi Bhailo. For her, the latter is all about fun and entertainment, a time to dance to any tune, Bollywood or otherwise. But after talking to her mother and grandmother, she noticed that at that time Deusi Bhailo was a deeply religious event, a festival where people sang bhajans and even senior members of the community joined in, using traditional instruments such as the haijadi (a type of tambourine, used at festivals, dances and chants).

Samrat Sharma, 40, from Kathmandu, believes Deusi Bhailo is more closely associated with rural life than urban life. “This can be seen in the lyrics of the song “Rato mato, Chiplo bato” (red mud, slippery road), reflecting its rural origins, where houses and balconies were covered in red mud.”

Although Deusi Bhailo is now celebrated in urban and rural areas, Sharma believes that in the villages the sense of belonging and solidarity remains much stronger. Sharma believes that global changes such as the influence of the market and technology have affected all cultural practices, shifting their meaning from collective celebration to individual expression, including Deusi-Bhailo. “Today, original songs and viral dances are becoming increasingly popular. This emphasis on fun and individual expression has diminished the importance of tradition,” he says.

As globalization and migration weaken traditional family and community ties, people place their identities above collective experiences. “Because of this, the way Deusi Bhailo is celebrated today reflects individual preferences rather than a shared communal heritage, which has played a role in reducing the sense of belonging and solidarity among people,” adds Sharma.

Bharat Das, 34, from Guransha, Dailekh, says, “Deusi Bhailo has changed completely. Now it’s basically just a speaker playing music. We used to sing and dance to folk songs, but today people dance to rap, Hindi songs and tracks like ‘Areli Kadaile Malai Chwassai’ and ‘Paisa’. These songs are popular and liked by the youth, but they do not convey the true spirit of Deusi-Bhailo. “It feels more like a way to raise money for tours or entertainment rather than a way to spread holiday love and warmth within the community.”

This problem has arisen because the youth are less aware of the purpose of playing Deusi Bhailo. Therefore, teaching them how to celebrate properly is crucial to preserving its essence. Festivals should connect souls and bring people together, and not become a means of extravaganza.

Jibika Sapkota, 21, from Sundarharaincha 12 Morang says, “The most valuable part of Tihar has always been Deusi Bhailo.” In days gone by, for Sapkota it was a joy-filled experience reflecting cultural roots and community spirit. Today, however, Sapkota feels the essence of Deusi-Bhailo is fading as loud sound systems replace the soulful sounds of instruments. This interferes with the beauty of tradition.

Sapkota laments that houses are now decorated with electric bulbs and disco lights rather than the warm glow of oil lamps. In the name of the festival, a competition of bursting firecrackers and explosives breaks out, eclipsing the serene and joyful atmosphere of Tihar.

Sapkota adds, “I have noticed a striking difference between Tihar celebrations in villages and urban areas. In the villages, Deusi-Bhailo groups come together: girls in Chaubandi Cholo (traditional women’s clothing) and boys in Daura Suruwal (traditional men’s clothing) – each of them carries instruments and sings Deusi-Bhailo songs. This reflects the true soul of Tihar. But in cities it’s the other way around. People play Deusi Bhailo primarily for money, forming small groups with loud sound buffers. Thus, the festive essence of our culture is gradually fading away.”

Srijana Maharjan, 38, from Techo, Lalitpur, remembers Tihar as a time of laughter, music and dancing with friends as they walked around the community playing Deusi-Bhailo. “We had a close-knit group of friends with whom we played Deusi Bhailo every year,” she shares.

Maharjan began preparing for Deusi-Bhailo several weeks in advance. She recalls: “Some of us played instruments, while others sang and danced. Each of us had our own role, and together we performed as one team. Since technology wasn’t that advanced back then, we made our own music. From time to time we would turn on the tapes to dance, write down the lyrics on paper so we could sing together.”

Now she enjoys watching young boys and girls dress up and perform well-rehearsed dances. But she misses the traditional ways of celebrating Deusi Bhailo. She says: “It is sad to see people playing loud music from speakers and dancing. It looks more like a regular party or celebration than Deusi Bhailo. Sometimes loud music even annoys me.”

Shravan Upadhyaya Dahal, 24, from Charikot, Dolakha, remembers Deusi Bhailo as a cherished part of his childhood. “On the night of Lakshmi Puja, my siblings, a few neighborhood friends and I would team up, spending weeks perfecting our performance to make it memorable,” he shares. For Dahal, Deusi Bhailo was a magical time, filled with the joy of exploring the area at night and admiring the festive decorations. To ensure that they would not forget the chants, he and his friends wrote them down and practiced them carefully, aiming for at least five minutes of performance in each house.

However, he believes that Deusi-Bhailo is becoming dull and losing its authenticity. “There used to be countless groups singing throughout the area, but now only a few people come every year,” he notes. Many of his friends fled, some went abroad, and only a few remained unable to maintain the tradition on their own. “These days, Deusi Bhailo is often overshadowed by local concerts and technology has changed the way people celebrate,” he adds. “Many have forgotten the cultural importance of visiting each home in person, and every year the number of people participating in Deusi Bhailo seems to be decreasing.”

He emphasizes that while modernization brings convenience, it also moves us away from the cultural roots that define Tihar. He says, “Perhaps we should work to preserve and revive these traditions by sharing the joy and meaning of Deusi Bhailo with younger generations.” He hopes that future Tihars will see the revival of old customs so that the beauty and spirit of the festival can live on.