The perks of being an eavesdropper at an NYC Diwali party

It’s true; in a room full of desis, a Diwali party is never just a Diwali party. It’s a fashion show, a family reunion, a networking event, and a group chat brought to life.

NYC kicked off the festive season last night with Diwali in TriBeCa where the guestlist comprised a star-studded crowd spanning actors, comedians, content creators, beauty creators, and founders. Hosted by publicist Neerja Patel with actors Avantika Vandanapu and Aryan Simhadri and makeup creator Aditya Madiraju, at Maxwell Social, one of NYC’s most glamorous members-only clubs, the evening had all the makings of a great party: a stunning backdrop for pictures with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a rolling ladder straight out of a New York townhouse, walls adorned with Diwali-themed art in antique frames, huge chandeliers casting a warm golden glow that matched the shimmer of the room’s glitzy lehengas, and statement jewels that gave the Met Gala a run for its money.

As the resident fly on the wall for The Nod, below is everything that the night sounded like, one overheard conversation at a time.

The first 30 minutes: For the people who think showing up on time is underrated

Kudos to everyone who rejected desi standard time. As someone put it, “Don’t be late! Here, it’s not IST. Everything actually ends at 10.” (It didn’t.)

The early arrivals were rewarded with the opportunity to actually hear one another speak before it got too loud—a good sign of a successful party. People were actually talking to each other rather than staring at their phones. At check-in, I overheard someone say, “I love attending events where I’m close to the people but not so close that they ask me where something is or expect me to help with things.” A highly underrated sweet spot in any social hierarchy, tbh.

I made a strategic beeline for host Avantika Vandanapu before the Not Suitable for Work star could be swallowed by the crowd. Her Rahul Mishra sari—a beaded turquoise blouse paired with a sheer ivory drape embroidered with pink sequinned florals—was paired with traditional gold jewellery: a statement maang tikka and jhumkas. When I asked what she hoped people would take away from the evening, she shared what felt like the perfect antidote to the Instagram-ification of Diwali.

“The true essence of it is making do with the means that you have, which is what my parents did for me. My favourite memory of Diwali is falling asleep on the couch as a kid and being carried to my bed while my parents and their friends played games, laughed, and talked all night. I loved waking up to some of the diyas still glowing. Social media can feel so distant, so I hope tonight we can bring back some of that nostalgia associated with how we all celebrated Diwali.” Spoken like a true Gen Z.

Her co-host Aryan Simhadri, who is set for the release of his upcoming Disney+ series Percy Jackson and the Olympians, had a similarly simple wish: “I hope everyone meets someone they really hit it off with tonight.”

A good party, after all, is only as good as the people you meet at it.

8:15 pm: Who are you wearing?

Someone asked me who I was wearing, and I panicked and blurted out “Nandini” (the friend whose sari I had borrowed.) No further questions were asked, but apologies to the girl who may still be looking up a designer named Nandini.

Beauty content creator Aditya Madiraju, one of the hosts, found this deeply amusing and reassured me that borrowing a sari from a friend was, in fact, very much in the spirit of Diwali. Not everything needs to be designer; sometimes, the clothes with the best stories are the ones borrowed from our mothers and friends.

8:30 pm: A DIY queen enters the chat

I migrated to the back of the club, where a cosier hangout area offered another bar, a beautiful jewellery booth by Malicious, a flower station for anyone wanting to decorate their hair, and most importantly, something that you don’t see much anymore in Ozempic-era parties: a mithai bar featuring more than eight varieties of Indian-inspired desserts that felt like an act of rebellion.

I spotted a pair of boots embroidered with mirror work and finished with tassels. Naturally, my eavesdropping mission was temporarily suspended because some things deserve immediate investigation.

The owner turned out to be Navneet Kaur, founder of Ruhveda, the Indian fragrance brand making its Sephora debut this summer. “I’m glad you noticed my shoes! I ordered the boots from Amazon and bedazzled them with fabric pieces I had in the bathroom just now to make them look more Indian.” We love a DIY queen. Nothing says festive spirit like a last-minute customisation project.

8:45 to 9 pm: The supply chain of festive dressing

Content creator Jully Patel was dispensing some genuinely useful fashion advice so I had to tune in to her: “My tip for Diwali party planning is to prepare your outfits in the summer. If you start planning in September, by the time your outfits arrive, it’s already October and the parties have started.” A non-desi social media manager shared a slightly different perspective: “Every time I show up to a party, I realise there are a hundred ways I could’ve dressed better. Everyone in this community is so creative. It’s inspiring!”

That’s the beauty of a Diwali party; you can spend three months planning an outfit and still arrive convinced that everyone else got the memo better than you did.

9 to 9:30 pm: Bridal vs cocktail attire debate

This was prime time for overhearing hot takes and witnessing sibling-coded arguments.

At the bar, I caught what may have been my favourite exchange of the night.

Person 1: “Oh my God, I’m feeling so hot and tired.”

Person 2: “Yeah, no shit. You’re wearing a 15 kg lehenga.”

Person 1: “True. One day, if I get married, I think my clothes will be lighter and less elaborate. But this is what NYC Diwali is, an occasion to wear bridal clothes to cocktail events.”

And there it was. The thesis statement of the evening.

9:30 to 9:45 pm: Wait, everyone here is actually nice?

As the evening progressed, the conversations became more free-flowing. Perhaps it was the chai-inspired cocktails from Kolkata Chai Co. Perhaps it was the collective realisation that the room was full of people who had dressed up specifically to socialise.

“I was so nervous coming here, but everyone is so welcoming and warm and actually wants to talk. And they’re not even drunk!” Those were the words of a guest, but honestly, they could have come straight out of my mouth.

I had arrived expecting to be a fly on the wall, Dan Humphrey-style. I’m not a content creator, an actor, or anyone famous (except to my mom and the ten loyal friends who like every story I post), so I assumed I’d spend most of the night quietly observing the cool kids.

Instead, I was surprised by how refreshingly non-cliquey the room was. People approached each other, struck up conversations, and seemed genuinely interested in meeting someone new. No elaborate introduction required.

Beauty creator Kripa Joshi complimented my curls, and my immediate response was to explain that they were only behaving because I had just washed them, because I can’t receive a compliment without immediately issuing a disclaimer. We got talking about her favourite Diwali traditions back home.

“I miss having over 50 diyas in my house. Unfortunately, it’s banned here.”

Somewhere, an American homeowners’ association just felt a disturbance in the force.

9:45 pm: The biryani queue doubles

I finally made my way to the food station to try the biryani everyone had been raving about. Aditya Mishra, resident chef of Maxwell, had outdone himself. I would have been hungrier had I not made the tactical error of treating pani puri as my main course. But the food queue was a story in itself. 

“We found out we were second cousins because of our last name,” someone casually revealed. A sentence you’ll only hear at a desi party, where unique surnames double as family trees.

Elsewhere, someone made a plea: “There needs to be more Telugu music at Diwali parties.” A fair point. The soundtrack to a celebration this elaborate deserves to be as representative as the guest list.

10 pm: Sheena Melwani takes the aux

Singer-songwriter Sheena Melwani pretended to take over the DJ booth and looked genuinely surprised at her newfound DJing talent. Her husband, the man behind the viral Real Indian Dad persona, had an equally important cultural contribution to make.

“Normalise going to Diwali parties without your children. It’s so much fun. That’s why we give them kharchi.” Hilariously off-brand for a man whose internet fame is built on Indian dad-isms.

Actor Shreya Navile, aka Deepica from Netflix’s Best of the Best, soon joined the conversation with what may have been the night’s most quotable take. “If you’re preaching good over evil, you should not be judging other people’s outfits.” A mic-drop moment and a reminder that the moral high ground is an awkward place to occupy while policing someone else’s lehenga.

That sparked a wider conversation about the growing tendency to criticise people for dressing up too much for Diwali.

“I see a lot of people making TikToks telling people not to dress up. But here in America, we don’t get so many opportunities to dress up, so why not celebrate our biggest holiday in full glam?”

Another guest summed up the sentiment perfectly: “Don’t let anyone stop your light, because you are the light, baby.”

10:30 pm: The hydration station gets political

Stand-up comedian Abby Govindan and I were standing by the hydration station when I asked what she thought about Diwali parties in America. Comedians, in my experience, tend to have the best takes and the least interest in sugarcoating them. She delivered.

“India is not a country you get to exploit for likes and clicks on Instagram. I see a lot of influencers around Diwali and Holi waxing poetic about how much their culture means to them, but they won’t say anything about the protests.”

Then, almost as an afterthought: “Sorry, I hope I don’t get anyone fired for that take.”

It was a sharp turn from outfit discourse we were having, but perhaps that’s what happens when you get a room full of people talking freely. The conversation doesn’t always stay where you expect it to.

10:45 pm: And on that note…

“Irish goodbyes are my signature move. They’re so underrated.”

By this point, the night was winding down, social batteries were fading, and the Irish goodbyes were well underway. The DJ booth, however, told a different story. The last partygoers were still going strong, and the soundtrack had officially entered ‘Chikni Chameli’ territory.

Near the exit, I overheard the perfect closing exchange.

Person 1: “If you and I ever get mics, we’ll both get cancelled immediately.”

Person 2: “I’ve been cancelled way too many times to care, bro.”

And with that, NYC's Diwali season was officially underway.