At the Tamana Winter Carnival, Inclusion Takes Shape Through Practice

Walking through the venue of the Tamana Winter Carnival, the expansion was evident. Students were not simply present; they were active participants, introducing their products, performing on stage, and moving confidently through familiar routines. These were neurodivergent and differently-abled individuals, including those on the autism spectrum, across three centres in Vasant Vihar. 

Many of the items on sale, candles, baked goods, paper products, textiles, are part of Tamana’s vocational skill training, which includes baking, printing, pottery, paper recycling and data-entry skills. Preparation for these products begins months in advance, embedded within daily training schedules rather than treated as a one-off exercise.

On December 13 this year, the Tamana Winter Carnival took place once again at the British High Commissioner’s residence in New Delhi. To many visitors, it was a familiar fixture on the city’s winter calendar, a place to wander through stalls, listen to music, meet friends and mark the season. But for Tamana’s students, families and staff, the carnival represents something far more continuous; it is a public moment shaped by months, and often years, of quiet, sustained work.

“The Winter Carnival has always been a celebration of inclusion, joy, and human potential,” the organisers said. For almost two decades, the event has been held at this venue, growing alongside Tamana itself. 

Established in 1984, the organisation provides rehabilitative and educational support to neurodivergent and differently-abled individuals, including those on the autism spectrum, across three centres in Vasant Vihar. Its work spans early intervention for toddlers, special education for children and adolescents, and vocational and skill-development programmes for young adults.

Many students come from economically weaker backgrounds, and Tamana provides long-term, individualised support, combining therapy, counselling, education and practical skill training, to help students move towards social and economic independence. What visitors encounter at the carnival, then, is not a curated showcase, but a reflection of everyday classrooms, workshops and training spaces where abilities are developed patiently over years.

That everyday labour finds visible expression at the carnival. “Each year, we strive to deepen the involvement of our students and create more meaningful avenues for them to participate,” the organisers explained. “This year, we expanded their role in the cultural performances, in the preparation of handcrafted products, and we also have other NGOs representing the disadvantaged communities participating at the event.”

“The event allows visitors to engage directly with our students’ abilities, whether through art, vocational products, or creative showcases,” the organisers noted. The emphasis, repeatedly, was on ability rather than limitation, on what students can do when supported consistently and respectfully.

The festive nature of the carnival plays a deliberate role in shaping this interaction. “The festive atmosphere is a bridge; it draws people in with warmth and joy, and through that experience, they begin to understand the deeper mission behind Tamana’s work.” The colour, music and crowd energy make the space accessible, but the organisers were clear that this balance is intentional. “Visitors experience the carnival as a joyful outing, but at its heart it is a powerful platform for awareness-building, advocacy, and fundraising for our programmes.”

Behind that seamless experience lies a demanding and carefully structured process. Preparation begins four to five months in advance, starting with fixing the date and securing permissions, including police and security clearances. Stall bookings follow, along with meetings with exhibitors, especially first-time participants. “It is important to us that everyone participating understands that this is not just a commercial exhibition, but an event rooted in dignity, empathy and purpose,” the organisers said.

As a resource-constrained NGO, Tamana relies heavily on long-standing partnerships and goodwill. Organisations and individuals support different aspects of the carnival, from publicity and outdoor advertising to logistics, allowing the event to grow without losing sight of its values. Alongside this, students prepare steadily, integrating carnival production into their skill-development training rather than treating it as an add-on.

Curation, too, is slow and deliberate. “Every stall, performance, and display is chosen with the intention of creating an environment where our students’ abilities are honoured and where every participant & visitor feel inspired.” Teachers, therapists, parents and volunteers collaborate closely, designing performances around individual strengths and ensuring that participation feels confident rather than performative.

On the sidelines of the event, conversations with visitors reflected the depth of this continuity. “What brings me back is the thought behind it—supporting these children. I always feel nobody needs sympathy; they need love, affection and support. That’s my primary reason for coming,” one visitor shared. Another visitor shared, “It’s one of the best Christmas markets in the city. I usually end up staying the entire day, leaving with bags full, my car is literally packed because I shop so much and eat so much. But more than that, your heart feels full after being here. I look forward to it every year, counting days and hours. It’s honestly one of the best places to be.”

For the organisers, such long-term relationships are central to the carnival’s meaning. “The Winter Carnival is truly a collective creation,” they said. “Our staff and teachers work tirelessly—from skill development and product curation to event logistics and student preparation. Families stand with us every step of the way.” They also acknowledged the role of external partners, particularly the British High Commission, alongside volunteers, designers, exhibitors, corporates, law enforcement agencies and well-wishers.

At the centre of it all, they stressed, are the students. “Our students are at the heart of it all—their enthusiasm, their effort, and their joy give life to the event.” As the evening progressed, that sentiment felt less like a conclusion and more like an observation. The Tamana Winter Carnival does not frame inclusion as an abstract ideal. Instead, it shows what inclusion looks like when practised patiently—through training rooms, classrooms, kitchens, workshops and, finally, in a public space where ability is visible, ordinary and shared.