BENTONG: For much of the year, the oil palm plantation in Jalan Karak-Manchis is a quiet place, its ageing community going about life far from the bustle of town.
But when Deepavali comes around, the stillness gives way to festive music, brightly lit homes and the crackle of fireworks as children and grandchildren return to celebrate the festival of lights.
For R. Gopal, 55, and his wife, S. Puspa Devi, 49, the celebration is less about the festivities than the joy of having their five children, aged between 21 and 28, under one roof again.
Born and raised on the estate, Gopal has watched the once-thriving plantation community gradually shrink as families retired, moved away and sought new lives elsewhere.
Yet Deepavali remains a cherished occasion, bringing a fleeting return of the warmth and camaraderie that once defined life on the estate.
“When I was young, more than 150 Indian families were living in the estate. Imagine how much fun we had. Now, only about 20 families remain, as many have retired and moved away.
“My wife and I eagerly look forward to Deepavali because that is when my eldest son, who works in Singapore, and his siblings return home. They usually spend about a week here before heading back to work,” he told the New Straits Times.
The grandfather of five said most of the younger generation had left the plantation, many finding work outside Pahang.
These days, their homecomings are largely confined to Deepavali, the estate temple’s annual festival or the funeral of a close family member.
For Gopal, the estate only truly comes alive when the children return, filling the neighbourhood with laughter and renewing friendships forged during their younger days.
“For older people like me, what matters most is spending the festive holidays with our children. They are the ones who bring the neighbourhood to life by decorating their homes, setting off firecrackers and playing festive music.
“On Deepavali morning, the entire estate community gathers at the temple within the plantation for prayers. Families dress in matching traditional outfits and greet one another.
“In the past, people would stay up until the early hours preparing special dishes, but these days, many prefer to have food catered,” he said.
But beneath the festive cheer lies the quiet realisation that Gopal’s own days on the estate are numbered.
With retirement just five years away, he knows that the Deepavali celebrations he has treasured since childhood may soon become memories of a place he once called home.
Like many of his former neighbours, he plans to leave the plantation after retirement, closing another chapter in a community that has steadily grown smaller over the decades.
“After retiring, many of my friends left the estate to live with their children. When I retire, my wife and I plan to move to Johor to stay with our son, but we will make an effort to return for the temple festival.
“Growing up on the estate is something I will always cherish. I often share stories with my grandchildren about my early days working here — living in the old wooden workers’ quarters and how all my siblings would help my mother prepare muruku during Deepavali,” he said.