September 9, 2011
May be I should attribute it to the wishes of three great ladies: Priya, Harshini and Uma who wished me a Happy Onam very early in the morning.
My first Thiruvonam day at home after 15 years has been an unforgettable experience!
Those who know me well, know that I am least bothered about what I wear. Whenever possible I don't wear anything more than the bare minimum. I am sorry for inflicting that image on you but most of my stay in College Station, I lived without a room-mate because of this deep consideration I have for fellow beings of the human kind.
But today was different!
I had received a handful of Onakodis (gift of clothes). Determined to make the most of them, I was showered and dressed up in a 'kasavu mundu' (gold bordered mundu) and a jubba (south Indian version of the north Indian kurta) by 6am. It is 6pm now and I am typing this out wearing the same dress. Once a year, I am going to convince myself, that it is ok to indulge. Or may be the endless stream of advertisements in India is getting to me!
Dressed in Onakodi splendour, I went over to Rema aunty's to wish them a happy Onam.
"Look aunty, I am wearing the Onakodi you bought me!" I told her
She did a quick inspection. "No, the mundu I got you has a red border beside the kasavu gold!" I am too lazy to keep track of gifts received. My whole life runs on them. And of such numerous fauxes pauses.
Dressing transforms people. Not the type that happens on wounds. Surely, the uniforms have some part to play in both the discipline and the atrocities associated with military. So it is quite possible that the mundu-jubba costume instigated me to make phone calls to all the uncles and aunts (well almost all! there are some I am not that close to) on both sides of the family to wish them a Happy Onam.
"I miss you very much, sheshakara!" my astrologer uncle said. Sheshakaran is the Malayalam word for nephew. It literally means the one who carries on. In the matrilineal set up of Nair caste, it used to be the nephews (sister's sons) who took over the family duties and property from the uncles.
I passed him a birthdate, time and location in latitute and longitude and told him he can use it as a case study to teach me the calculation of the planetary positions the Aryabhatta-Varahamihira-Brahmagupta way.
Though Amma had implied there may not be a feast for Onam, she got busy in the kitchen with preparations since morning right after the Appam- Potato stew breakfast.
Even without a Dodin Bouffant, Achan acted as the sous-chef. I was a mere cheerleader in the double folded mundu with the knees showing. My legs are nothing compared to those that carry the Dalls Cowboys' cheerleaders, but the dishes turned out brilliant! The sous-chef would occassionally disappear with a handful of raw ingredients that are great for muching and reappear after five minutes. In hotels, chefs take smoking breaks. For Achan, it was dried coconuts, raisins and cashews that motivated the small escapes.
By the time we sat down for lunch, there were enough dishes to fill the traditional banana leaf. Three types of pickles: ginger, mango, lemon. Pappadam, sharkaravaratti (banan chips covered in jaggery) and vattal (crispies) contributed the crunchiness. Mixed vegetables in two avatars: solid Aviyal and flowing as Sambar.
Paripappu (gram/lentil), Kichadi (cucumber & yogurt), Thoran (beans), buttermilk and two varieties of Payasams (rice 'ada' and gram) completed the 'sadya' (feast)ensemble.
In fact, all the slurping, crunching, gulping and lip smacking that goes into the consumption of the sadya resembles a primordial preagrarian concert!
The whole body was reduced to an intestine.
My python avatar!
Brain yawns for more oxygen. But then burp-filled air in the vicinity has less oxygen than the Everest summit.
I changed into the humble lungi and sort refuge in bed.
Payasam is a dream inducer, I am convinced. I was busy helping Amma negotiate a high slope in the car in my dream when I was woken up by real world (lets not get into that Zen debate of what is real) voices in the living room.
In the dream, Amma was in a hurry for a meeting in her bank. In the real world, she was carrying the uruli (round brass vessel) full of 'manchadi' (the red bean of coralwood tree) to entertain Ajith's young niece. Ajith and Tara were back with his sister, niece and a cousin.
I was still only half awake from the afternoon payasam-induced slumber, when there was a sudden drizzle. I think I have already mentioned the old saying "Atham Karuthal Onam Velukkum" (If it rains on Atham day, Onam day will be sunny) once earlier in these notes. Bullshit! It rained on Atham day and it was cloudy this afternoon with a sudden 2-minute downpour. I am sure the traditionalists will point out that it was exceptionally sunny this morning.
Anyways, the rush to save the dried clothes in the open terrace clothesline and a winnowing basket full of dried coconuts removed all traces of sleep from me.
I hope this cloudburst induced burst of activity helped burn some of the feasty calories.
I will stick to lemon juice and Ayurvedic 'triphala' for the night to rejuvenate my overtaxed digestive tract.
Evening news informs that Malayalees have managed to drink 20% more liquor this Onam season. Till the day before Onam (Uthradam day, if you remember) the state Beverages Corporation has sold 236 crores (Rs 2.36 Billion) worth of alcohol. Another study says 45% of the state has a chance of chronic liver disease. An interesting awareness campaign in Kozhikode featured an "Athapookkalam" (the Onam floral mats) made with empty alcohol bottles, cigaratte packets and playing cards.
All the television channels were showing "superhit" movies. It is the most stale advertising line. Any film that shows up on a tv channel, even if it was thrown out of the theater after 3 shows, is called a superhit. If it was screened for at least a week, it gets the title of a 'blockbuster' when it comes to TV. Attempting to watch any of these quickly becomes an exercise in extreme patience and restraint. 10 minute chunks of the movie are followed by 15 minutes of ads. Since most movies have been doing badly and movie industry is in a slump, the actors responsible for the slump are trying to make some money by endorsing anything under the sun.
One of our cab drivers, couple of weeks ago, observed about the super star Mohanlal, "He is asking us to do both! In Malabar gold ads, he is asking us to buy more gold. Then in Manalath finance company ad, he is asking us to pawn that gold!"
On a day of feasting, one of the great business minds of Kerala who spearheaded the revolution of curry powders in the nation, Mr. M. E. Meeran, founder of the Eastern group, passed away. The masala aisles of Indian stores anywhere in the world feature packets of Eastern curry powder.
In the late 60s, when people still bought ingredients from the market and ground them into powder for curry, Meeran created readymade curry powders. In the last 40 years, they have become indispensible in the Indian kitchen. The newspaper article said his wife would be the first person to test and perfect any product before it is brought to the market.
Meeran's provisions and grocery store in Adimali used to do Rs 1 lakh of business a day in the 70s. Last year Eastern group grossed a revenue of over Rs 500 crore. Their target is a 1000 crore for 2011.
Manorama newspaper mentioned the interesting story of the origin of the name Eastern. When Meeran arrived in Adimali to set up a small shop, on his very first day there, he heard a boy call his friend who runs an iron-implements store with the nickname "Irumbee" (Iron in malayalam). The friend told Meeran that such nicknames are common. The iron shop owner is nicknamed Irumbu, the milk shop owner is called Paalu (milk) etc. Meeran realized with a shudder that this meant having a provisions and grocery (palacharakku=different goods) store will earn him the nickname "Charakku"!
Doesn't look like Onam is going to end well for the Indian cricket team. But keeping in mind the glorious uncertainty of cricket, it is too early to tell.
A major pro-inter-religion and inter-caste love marriage conversation is taking place here in the living room between Achan, Amma and Leny chechi.
I will save it for tomorrow's note!
One of Kunjunni's poems conveys the idea:
"Without asking who is the driver and the conductor, we board buses! (for Americans, think of this as pilot and co-pilot and that you are boarding a flight)
We are fools who come to this planet without knowing who our parents are!"
This memorable Onam at home after so long makes me realize that I am one of the fools who got lucky!
Wish you all a very Happy Onam!
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