It begins, as it has for generations, on a crisp Diwali morning in Devli – an urban village in south Delhi nestled between the residential colonies of Sangam Vihar and farmhouses of Chattarpur. Cauldrons bubble with dal, puris are fanned into steel trays, and elders hum bhajans to Mahamai: the village deity believed to have shielded the community through illness and upheaval for over a century. It’s the annual bhandara, a collective act of gratitude. But now, before the first flame is lit or the first offering made, there’s a question on everyone’s lips:
