Diwali Loneliness Abroad: Why Festivals and Wedding Season Can Feel So Hard for NRIs
You light a diya on a kitchen counter three time zones away, join the family video call for the aarti, and hang up feeling more alone than if you hadn't called at all. This is a specific, well-understood kind of ache, not a personal failure to adjust.
Quick answer: Diwali loneliness abroad can feel different from everyday homesickness because festivals concentrate family ritual, memory and belonging into one specific moment. Research on migration, collective ritual and social comparison helps explain why. Building genuine local connection and setting deliberate limits on wedding-season social media both have real evidence behind them.
The video call was supposed to make the distance smaller. Instead it made the exact shape of what's missing impossible not to see.
Why Diwali loneliness abroad can feel different from ordinary homesickness
Migration itself carries a documented loneliness risk, independent of anything specific to Diwali. A 2025 meta-analysis pooling eleven studies and more than 166,000 immigrants found a global loneliness prevalence of roughly 25%, with wide variation by country, real evidence that living away from your country of origin is, on its own, a genuine risk factor worth naming plainly rather than something to feel embarrassed about. Festival season layers something more specific on top of that general vulnerability. A 2025 American Psychiatric Association poll found 41% of respondents anticipated more holiday-season stress than the year before, a sharp rise from 28% in 2024 and 29% in 2023. That's a real, well-documented pattern, general holiday-season stress rising, but it's a different thing from what many NRIs describe around Diwali specifically, which isn't diffuse stress so much as a sharp, dated ache tied to one particular evening: the puja, the exact moment the diyas are lit, a specific hour a family used to spend together and now doesn't.
What's actually different about missing a shared ritual
Sociologist Émile Durkheim, writing in 1912, described "collective effervescence," the distinct emotional charge people experience specifically from participating in a ritual together, physically present, in the same rhythm, at the same time. Later research gives that idea real empirical backing: a 2009 study found that simply moving in synchrony with others, even something as simple as walking in step, measurably increases feelings of connection and cooperation, and a 2011 study published in PNAS found that spectators who were related to performers in a fire-walking ritual showed measurably synchronised physiological arousal with the performers, while unrelated spectators did not. Applying that research directly to Diwali is this article's own extension, not something either study specifically tested, but it fits the pattern people describe closely: a video call lets you see the puja, but it can't replicate being physically present in the same room, breathing the same incense, moving through the same ritual sequence at the same shared moment your family is moving through it. What's lost isn't the information, you can see everything on a screen. It's the synchrony: the specific experience of your own hands lighting a diya in the same room, at the same instant, as the people you love, rather than watching their hands do it through a small rectangle of glass.
The dread that builds before the day itself
Neuroscience research on anticipation offers a useful, if imperfect, parallel here. A 2006 study published in Science found that the brain's response to anticipating an unpleasant experience can itself be genuinely distressing, distressing enough that some participants preferred to get a stronger discomfort over with sooner rather than wait longer for a milder one. Applying that finding directly to a video-call Diwali is this article's own parallel, not something the study itself tested, but many NRIs describe exactly this pattern: the days leading up to Diwali, knowing precisely how the evening will go, often carry more weight than the evening itself, once it's actually underway and there's a screen and a scheduled call to focus on. Naming that pattern in advance, rather than being surprised by it each year, tends to make the anticipatory stretch itself somewhat easier to sit with.
The nine-minute call
Rohan had joined his family's Diwali video call every year since moving to London, and every year it lasted roughly the same nine minutes, an aarti glimpsed over someone's shoulder, a rushed round of "happy Diwali," his mother's face lit orange from the diyas, then goodbyes as the actual celebration continued without him on the other side of the screen. He'd assumed the specific sadness he felt afterward, every single year, meant he hadn't really settled abroad the way he should have by now.
What actually helped wasn't a longer call. It was building something of his own: a small Diwali gathering with four other Indian colleagues, timed deliberately to overlap with his family's puja back home, so that when he lit his own diya, he could tell his mother, genuinely, that he was doing it at the same moment as her. It didn't replace being there. It gave the evening a shape of its own, rather than only the shape of what it wasn't.
This case is a composite drawn from patterns common across many NRI clients I have worked with. It does not describe a real client, and no identifying detail belongs to any one family.
Why building a new tradition can feel like giving up on the old one
A common, rarely voiced obstacle to doing anything differently is that hosting a small Diwali gathering abroad, or joining a local temple's celebration instead of just calling home, can feel less like building something new and more like quietly admitting the original version is gone for good. That reluctance is understandable and worth naming directly, because left unexamined it tends to keep people stuck choosing between two options that both hurt, an imperfect video call that reliably disappoints, or nothing at all. Neither is a fixed requirement. A new local ritual doesn't have to replace the meaning of the original one to still be worthwhile; this is consistent with research linking collective ritual and synchrony to stronger social connection, shared emotion and wellbeing, even though no study has tested this specific substitution directly. That research doesn't ask which version is more authentic, only whether people are physically present, moving through a shared sequence, together. A smaller, different Diwali can do that even while the original one is missed, genuinely and without contradiction, at the exact same time.
Why Indian wedding season can intensify the loneliness
India's wedding season overlaps closely with the Diwali period for many families, and it brings a different but related strain: watching, from a distance, a stream of photos and reels from celebrations you weren't at. Social psychologist Leon Festinger's foundational 1954 theory of social comparison describes how people evaluate their own lives partly by comparing them to others, and a widely cited 2012 study found that heavier Facebook use was specifically linked to the belief that other people were happier and had better lives, a comparison effect that photo-heavy wedding content seems almost engineered to trigger. Separately, research by psychologists Constantine Sedikides and Tim Wildschut on nostalgia has found it can function as a genuine psychological resource, connecting people to identity and meaning, but nostalgia triggered by scrolling through other people's celebrations in real time, rather than freely recalled, can tip more easily into comparison and loss than into comfort. The two effects compound each other: comparison sharpens what's missing, nostalgia makes the absence feel personal.
The statistic worth being direct about
A specific figure, "3 million NRIs experience loneliness," circulates fairly widely online in articles about this exact topic. It does not trace back to any identifiable, citable study, survey methodology, or original source we could locate, and this article deliberately does not repeat it. The underlying experience it's gesturing at is real and well documented in the broader research this article does cite; the number itself simply isn't, and a specific-sounding statistic isn't more true for being specific.
What helps with Diwali loneliness when you live abroad
- Build a local ritual, not just a longer phone call. A small gathering, even three or four people, timed to overlap with the actual ceremony back home gives the evening its own shape rather than only the shape of an absence.
- Synchronise the moment, not just the conversation. Lighting a diya at the same time your family is lighting theirs, and saying so out loud on the call, taps into something closer to the shared-timing research than a call that happens whenever is convenient.
- Set a deliberate boundary around wedding-season social media. A 2026 randomised controlled trial found young people who cut their social media use to about an hour a day showed measurably greater reductions in loneliness than those who didn't; the trial didn't study wedding content specifically, but a similar, deliberate time-boxed window is a reasonable way to apply the same principle to wedding-season scrolling.
- Let the nostalgia be chosen, not triggered. Deliberately looking at old family photos on your own terms tends to feel different, and often better, than having comparison-triggering content appear unprompted in a feed.
- Find or start a local diaspora Diwali event well before the date. Temples, gurdwaras, cultural associations and Indian community groups abroad often host organised celebrations; attending one, even alone at first, provides real collective ritual rather than a screen-mediated version of one.
- Name the specific ache to your family, rather than only saying you're fine. "I miss being there for the actual puja moment" is more specific, and usually easier for family to respond to meaningfully, than a general "I wish I was home."
When to bring this to counselling
Bring it in if this seasonal ache has been intensifying year over year rather than easing, if it's affecting your mood or functioning well beyond the festival period itself, or if you'd like support building a genuine sense of community abroad rather than managing the loneliness alone each year. Sessions are online, scheduled across time zones, for individuals across the United States, the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and the Gulf, and working through this with someone who understands both the psychology of ritual and belonging and the specific shape of the NRI festival season can help turn an annual dread into something more manageable.
Evidence and context
Sources: Salari, Mohammadi et al., "Global Prevalence of Loneliness in Immigrants: A Systematic Review and Meta-Analysis," Asian Journal of Psychiatry, 2025; American Psychiatric Association, 2025 holiday stress poll; Durkheim, The Elementary Forms of Religious Life, 1912, on collective effervescence; Wiltermuth & Heath, "Synchrony and Cooperation," Psychological Science, 2009; Konvalinka et al., "Synchronized Arousal Between Performers and Related Spectators in a Fire-Walking Ritual," PNAS, 2011; Berns et al., "Neurobiological Substrates of Dread," Science, 2006; Sedikides & Wildschut, nostalgia research programme; Festinger, "A Theory of Social Comparison Processes," Human Relations, 1954; Chou & Edge, "They Are Happier and Having Better Lives Than I Am," Cyberpsychology, Behavior, and Social Networking, 2012, an association between Facebook use and perceived others' happiness, not an intervention trial; Goldfield et al., "Reducing Social Media Use Decreases Loneliness... in Youth With Anxiety and Depression: A Randomized Controlled Trial," Journal of Affective Disorders, 2026; Páez, Pizarro, Zumeta et al., meta-analysis on collective effervescence outcomes, Frontiers in Psychology, 2022. No rigorous published study measures Diwali- or Indian-wedding-specific NRI loneliness directly; a widely circulated "3 million NRIs" loneliness statistic could not be traced to any identifiable source and is not used here.
Frequently asked questions
Is it normal to feel worse after a Diwali video call than before it?
It can happen, and it's a common enough reaction that it's worth naming rather than assuming something's wrong with you. A brief call can make the specific contrast between being present and being absent more vivid, not less. That reaction reflects the ritual you're missing, not a failure to appreciate the effort the call represents.
Does this get easier the longer I live abroad?
It varies considerably by individual and by how much local community and ritual someone has built for themselves. Some people find it eases as they establish their own traditions abroad; for others it resurfaces sharply at particular ages or life stages, especially around milestones back home.
Should I stop watching wedding content on social media entirely during this season?
Not necessarily, but an unlimited, unplanned scroll tends to intensify comparison more than a deliberate, time-boxed check-in does. Choosing when and how much to look, rather than letting a feed set the terms, tends to make the difference researchers and clinicians consistently observe.
Is it wrong to build new Diwali traditions instead of trying to replicate the ones from home?
Not at all, and clinical experience suggests it usually helps more than trying to recreate the original exactly. A genuinely new local ritual, even a small one, tends to provide the collective, in-person element research links to wellbeing, better than an imperfect long-distance approximation of the old one.
My family doesn't understand why the video call isn't enough for me. How do I explain it?
Naming the specific thing that's missing, being present for the actual shared moment rather than a glimpse of it afterward, tends to land better than a general statement about missing home. Most families want to understand; they often just haven't had the specific mechanism named to them before.
Is the "3 million NRIs are lonely" statistic I've seen online real?
We looked for its original source and couldn't find one; it doesn't trace back to any identifiable study or survey. The underlying experience is real and well documented in the broader research on migration and loneliness, but that specific number appears to be unverifiable rather than a genuine finding.
Should I travel home for Diwali if I can afford to?
That's a personal and financial decision with no universally right answer, and it depends on your specific circumstances, work, finances, and how much the in-person ritual matters to you relative to its cost. If it's feasible and meaningful to you, the research on collective ritual does support that in-person participation carries something a call genuinely can't replicate.
Is it normal for wedding season to feel harder than Diwali itself?
It can, yes, since wedding season often stretches over several weeks with a steady stream of social media content, rather than being concentrated into one evening. The sustained comparison effect can accumulate in a way a single festival day doesn't.
What if I don't have any local Indian community to build a Diwali gathering with?
Look for university associations, cultural centres, temples, gurdwaras, or even broader South Asian community groups, which often welcome newcomers regardless of exactly where in India, or South Asia, they're from. A smaller or less culturally specific gathering can still provide the collective, in-person element that matters most.
Is it okay to feel sad about missing weddings even though I chose to move abroad?
Completely normal, and choosing to move doesn't require you to feel only positively about every trade-off that decision involves. Grieving specific losses, missed weddings, missed moments, while still standing by the larger decision to live abroad, are not contradictory positions to hold at once.
Does having children make this harder or easier?
It can go either way and often shifts over time. Some parents find building new traditions for their children abroad genuinely fulfilling; others find watching their children miss the ritual richness they themselves grew up with adds a second, distinct layer of loss on top of their own.
Is it worth trying to recreate the exact rituals from my childhood, or should I let that go?
There's no single right approach, and both can genuinely work. Some people find comfort in recreating specific childhood rituals as closely as possible; others find more relief in consciously building something new that reflects where they actually are now. Either can provide real collective, in-person benefit, so the choice is more about what feels true to you than about which is more correct.
The ache is specific. So is what actually helps with it.
If Diwali and wedding season abroad have felt harder each year rather than easier, it helps to work through it with someone who understands both the psychology of ritual and belonging and the specific shape of the NRI festival season.
Book a session WhatsApp +91 9811862338The NRI mental health series
This article is part of a series on the mental health of Indians living abroad.