Every year, cities across India and the world transform into vibrant canvases of celebration in the form of different festivals. From the glowing ghats of Varanasi during Dev Deepawali to the tribal rhythms echoing through Nagaland’s Hornbill Festival. These cultural moments attract thousands of visitors.
Tourists come in search of stories, spirituality, or simply the next Instagram post. But once the lights dim, the music fades, and the outsiders return home, something far more meaningful remains. The heartbeat of the festival! It lives on in the communities that create it, the artisans who power it, and the emotions that can’t be captured in a selfie.
Festivals are living traditions
Festivals are often misunderstood as spectacles meant for entertainment or tourism, but their roots run far deeper. In a BBC Travel feature on the Pushkar Camel Fair, a local vendor casually remarked, “We do this for our gods, not for your camera,” a line that subtly reminds us how festivals are living traditions, not performances.
Across YouTube, platforms like TheVibe India and Curly Tales have shown how even the most vibrant festivals like Durga Puja or Ganesh Chaturthi are built on the shoulders of unsung heroes – local craftsmen, flower vendors, drummers, cooks, and families, who pour months of labour and love into a few days of celebration.
When the crowd leaves, these people stay behind, and so do the stories, customs, and rituals passed down through generations.
When Festivals Feed Families
Economically too, festivals leave a lasting imprint. A UNESCO short film on intangible cultural heritage featured a Rajasthani artisan who said, “Diwali is when I earn enough for half the year.” That’s the reality for many.
According to India’s Ministry of Tourism, nearly 60% of rural artisans and folk performers depend on festival seasons for their main source of income. From stage decorators to idol makers, from dhaba owners to dhol players — everyone gets a slice of this temporary economy. Even after the tourists depart, these local economies continue to hum quietly. Recycling materials, preparing for next year, or transitioning into wedding or seasonal work continues.
Festivals act as emotional bookmarks
Culturally, festivals act as emotional bookmarks in people’s lives. Once the visual noise dies down, the locals reclaim their space, reflect on the rituals, and pass their memories down to children. In many regions, like Ladakh’s Hemis Monastery, the real essence begins after the tourists leave- in silent prayers, post-celebration rituals, and internal reflection.
Tourism and festive celebrations
The question we must ask ourselves is not just what we take from festivals, but what we leave behind. Are we truly engaging with these cultural ecosystems or just skimming them for content? Thankfully, a slow shift is happening.
The rise of responsible travel, zero-waste Holi campaigns, and artisan-led festival tours shows that tourism and tradition can coexist. If approached with respect! When we move from being spectators to protectors, we begin to truly understand the soul of these festivals.
So yes, when the crowd leaves, the festival doesn’t end. It changes form. It goes silent, becoming part of daily life once again. In the marigold petals swept from doorsteps, in the leftover colours of Holi on walls, in repaired costumes folded with care, it continues to breathe.
Waiting for another season, another prayer, another chance to come alive not just for the eyes, but for the heart.