Tihar, the most awaited festival after Dashain for many, is in the corner. People wait for this festival for many reasons, like lights, colors, and probably money they receive as dakshina. I love them all. But the most important aspect that every Nepali person waits for is the day when we light the house with diyos (traditional oil lamps made with clay). Every year, thousands of diyos are bought by many to light up their house. In the pottery square of Bhaktapur, many potters are seen drying their clay works in the sun. The area is made in such a way where the sun rays don’t fade away till evening. Every shop has divided their area to dry their work in the same ground. Traditionally, people from the Prajapati caste are involved in the work of creating clay and earthenware products. But today, this job is not just limited to the Prajapatis.
Samir Dhonju got into this profession because he was interested in the artistic work that goes into making earthenware goods. “There was a time when this work was associated with people a certain caste, but things have changed these days. I really enjoy working with clay and making various products,” he says. Dhonju has been doing this for a year now and he wishes other youths like him to join the profession. “There is certainly a good scope in this line of work, but many young people just don’t want to get their hands dirty,” he adds. Dhonju enjoys the creativity involved in making clay products.
Shiva Prasad Prajapati, who has continued his family generational profession, says his family shop has existed since the Malla period, making it one of the oldest in his neighborhood.
“Almost 8 or 9 generations of my family have followed this craft,” he says. For this year’s Tihar festival, he has already made around 200,000 diyos. “I started working before the Dashain festival and I’ve already sent the diyos to the market, which is why there isn’t much rush in my shop,” he says.
His diyos are delivered to places like Kathmandu, Kavre, and Barhabise.
Shiva Prasad sells a dozen diyos for Rs 40, while 100 pieces can cost up to Rs 400 depending on demand. He says the clay used in making diyos are not readily available these days.
“We used to collect the clay from forests around Doleshwor and Suryabinayak, but now it’s illegal. So we have to go through a proper tender process to procure clay these days, which makes it costlier,” he adds.
Not far away from Shiva Prasad’s shop, Ranjana Prajapati is busy drying freshly made diyos. She started the shop some nine years ago and made a good earning, until people started using electric lights instead of traditional diyos to light up their homes during Tihar.
“The demands for diyos have definitely gone down, but the demand has not entirely died out,” she says. “Diyo demand shoots up during the time of Tihar, because there are still many people who understand the cultural and traditional values of lighting diyos.”
In the run-up to the Tihar festival, Ranjana has already made 10,000 diyos, which she says is far fewer than in the previous years.
Ranjana fears hers will be the last generation to continue her family profession, as her children are not interested in pottery making.
Budhi Ram Prajapati, who is in his seventies, didn’t make any diyos for this year’s Tihar. “Demands have gone down, and I can’t make diyos with the same speed and precision like in my heydays,” he says.
There was a time when he could make up to 35,000 diyos all by himself. Today, only Budhi Ram and his wife run their clay workshop. Their children left the generational craft to pursue more lucrative enterprises.
Budhi Ram notes the contradiction: while the number of households is rising, the demand for diyos is falling.
For Aakash Karmacharya, however, traditional diyo lamps hold deep cultural significance.“I love the warm glow of diyos. I find them far better than those distracting LED lights,” he says. Karmacharya is one of those people who prefers traditional practice over convenience of modernity when observing a cultural festival like Tihar.
For generations, potters in Bhaktapur and beyond have shaped these symbols of light with care and devotion, their hands preserving a legacy that goes far beyond decoration. Though challenges like rising costs and fading demand persist, the spirit behind each diyo remains strong.
“While electric lights may be easier and more convenient, the humble diyos hold a deeper meaning of culture, craft, and community, and it is our responsibility to preserve the tradition,” says Karmacharya.
