Did You Know Diwali Was Celebrated Before the Ramayana Was Even Written?

Long before the lamps of Ayodhya were lit to welcome Lord Rama, the light of Diwali already burned bright in India’s spiritual memory. The festival we associate today with the return of Rama from exile was, in fact, celebrated centuries earlier across Jain and Buddhist traditions as a symbol of inner awakening, liberation, and truth.

From the nirvana of Lord Mahavira to Emperor Ashoka’s lighting of lamps for peace, Diwali has always meant more than victory over Ravana. It meant victory over the self.
According to the Kalpa Sutra, one of the most ancient Jain texts compiled by Bhadrabahu around the 4th century BCE, Diwali marks the night when Lord Mahavira, the 24th Tirthankara, attained moksha (liberation) at Pavapuri.
Jains believe that on this amavasya (new moon night), the gods lit countless lamps to illuminate the darkness that followed Mahavira’s passing. Since then, lighting diyas became symbolic not of wealth or conquest, but of enlightenment over ignorance.

Even today, Jain temples across India light rows of lamps on Diwali night and read from the Uttaradhyayana Sutra and Kalpa Sutra, reaffirming the path of self-conquest that Mahavira taught.

The Acharanga Sutra and Kalpa Sutra both mention Dipalikaya, the festival of lamps, in reference to Mahavira’s nirvana. Scholars like Hermann Jacobi and Padmanabh Jaini date these texts centuries before Valmiki’s Ramayana, traditionally placed between the 5th and 3rd century BCE.

This means the ritual of Diwali existed before Rama’s era, not as a royal celebration, but as a spiritual commemoration of release from rebirth, the highest ideal in Jain philosophy.

Early Buddhist sources such as the Mahavamsa (the Sri Lankan chronicle) and later Theravāda traditions mention a “festival of lights” celebrated around the same lunar month as Diwali.

Emperor Ashoka is said to have ordered lamps to be lit in every corner of his empire after his conversion to Buddhism, symbolizing the spreading of Dhamma (truth and compassion). In several Buddhist countries today, including Thailand, Myanmar, and Sri Lanka, Diwali-like celebrations exist under names such as Thadingyut and Tazaungdaing, representing the return of Buddha from Tavatimsa Heaven.

Just as Rama’s return from Lanka brought joy to Ayodhya, Buddhist texts describe the return of Buddha from heaven after preaching to his mother, welcomed with lamps and offerings.

In the Tavatimsa Devaloka, Buddha shared the Abhidhamma, and upon returning to Earth, his disciples illuminated his path with rows of lights. This symbolic “Diwali” predates Rama’s homecoming, showing that the return of light was already a sacred Indian motif long before the Ramayana gave it a royal dimension.

Anthropologists like Dr. P. V. Kane in History of Dharmasastra and Dr. R. C. Hazra note that Dipavali was observed across Jain, Buddhist, and Vedic traditions as a seasonal and spiritual celebration of renewal at the end of the harvest and monsoon cycle.

It symbolized light over decay, self-awareness over ignorance, and the transition into a new year. In fact, early Sanskrit inscriptions from Ujjain and Gujarat call Diwali Yama Deepam, the lights for ancestors, linking it more with cosmic cycles than with Rama’s legend.

Even before Jainism and Buddhism, the Atharva Veda speaks of lighting lamps to drive away evil and to welcome auspiciousness, an act connected to Agni, the fire god who represents knowledge and transformation.

Thus, Diwali’s act of lighting lamps is deeply Vedic, not necessarily Vaishnava. It was an ancient ritual of igniting inner light, which later became integrated into the Ramayana narrative as Rama’s victory.

When Valmiki composed the Ramayana, he layered this ancient symbolism into the story of Rama’s return. The lighting of lamps became a national celebration, but the metaphor remained the same: light dispelling darkness.

In essence, Rama’s homecoming absorbed the earlier Jain, Buddhist, and Vedic meanings, transforming a festival of liberation into one of victory, and yet preserving the universal essence of illumination.

Whether it was Mahavira’s nirvana, Buddha’s descent, or Rama’s return, the message has always been identical: the triumph of inner light over outer darkness.

Diwali was never just about wealth or fireworks. It was about awakening, about seeing the self clearly.

Perhaps that’s why even today, no matter which deity you worship or which story you follow, the lamps you light carry the same silent prayer:

“Let my ignorance burn away; let my light shine within.”