Oil bath!

All my stories so far have been of the playtime and travelling we enjoyed as small kids. But there was the routine life we had as school going children in our home, under the guidance of our parents. Taking oil bath was one routine which is still unforgettable just because it was a very unpleasant experience for us!

After a school week, the weekend was a welcome change from our full day of studies. But one aspect of our weekend routine used to frighten us so much that we hated getting up on Sundays. Saturdays were spent on playing and finishing our homework but Sundays were the days when my mom insisted that we had our oil baths. It is the tradition that girls have their oil baths on Fridays and boys have theirs on Saturdays. Since we had to attend school on Fridays, we girls had to undergo the ordeal of the oil bath on Sundays.

We had to wrap a towel around our bodies and stand in the open under the morning sun. Sesame oil would be poured on our head and our hair would be dripping with oil. When the oil was massaged onto the scalp, my mother would be telling us to take care that no part was left oil-free. She would have an idiomatic phrase for every part; for example, if we left out the bottom half of our head, it would spell doom for the health of our brothers, if the top was left out it would bring on poverty etc., which would prick our conscience enough not to leave any part of our head without oil!

Then came the worst part. Oil would be poured into our eyes, nose and ears amidst shrieks of protest. We had to apply oil on our bodies too. Then we all took turns one by one, to be given baths in hot water prepared and stored in big buckets nearby. The rest of us had to stand in the sun absorbing the light as it was said to be beneficial for our health. My mother and her assistant (maidservant, usually) would perform the rituals every Sunday morning.

First kid in the line had to sit on a low stool. Then the shikakai powder (home made, with many herbal ingredients added) would be made into a paste and massaged onto our head and hair. It was a great feat to escape from the shikakai powder accidentally going into our eyes, though we had to sit with our eyes closed to avoid that! Of course we would like to take a peek at the going-on every now and then! As a result, most of the kids would have reddened eyes at the end of the bathing session. It seemed to take forever to remove every trace of oil from our hair. Once my mother was satisfied she would send the child to the maid to wash off the herbal powder, soap our bodies and pour hot water, finishing our baths, pulling the next kid towards her for her turn.

Once the bath was over, we would be rolled in a towel and asked to bind our hair with an absorbent cotton towel. With eyes smarting and the whole body feeling spent after all the massage, we would dress ourselves and dry our hair in the incense smoke, prepared specially for drying our hair. Then we had to wait in line for the next step.

A mixture of cumin seeds and garlic pods would be crushed with a little salt and made into a drink and we all had to take a little of it to ward off cold and to improve our digestion. This was the last straw and we would be saying ‘yuck’ and trying to run off into various corners of our house to avoid the spicy home made medicine! After our baths, we would be given hot soup by mid morning to help us regain all our lost energy. We would all feel sleepy by the time the ordeal was over!

Oil for bath:

Heat 1/2 cup sesame oil with 6 cloves of garlic. When garlic is brown, take it off the heat. Cool and apply it on scalp when warm, with a small ball of cotton. Cover the whole of scalp and let it soak for half an hour. Wash it off with herbal soapnut powder or with shampoo.

Another oil recipe:

Sesame oil 250 gm

castor oil 100 gm

Neem oil 100 gm.

Mix all together and use for oil bath. This oil helps keep your hair grow thick and dark, without dandruff.

Herbal shampoo powder:

Powder the following finely;

1 kg Shikakai (soap nut)
1/2 kg methi
100 gm whole tur dal 100 gm
100 gm mustard
Use a tbsp mixed with half cup water every time you wash your hair. It is good for even sinusitis patients.
100 gm mustard

Another story on our holidays!

Whenever we went to our grandparents' place, my cousins too used to visit them as they were also of the same age. Needless to say, each family had a minimum of five to six children in those days. My mother had only one sister and so her six kids would visit my maternal grandparents.In my father's place, he had two sisters who had been married by the time he got married and so their children would visit my grandparents there. Besides them my unmarried aunt and uncle were living there. My aunt's schooling had been stopped as was usual for girls in those days when she had passed the ninth standard. But my uncle, just a year older than her, was studying for his English Literature degree at the local college in the nearby town (my mother's place) as a preparation to his joining the law college the next year.


My paternal grandparents' house was full of books, which was a blessing for us as we could develop a love for reading books in our numerous visits there. Our aunts loved reading and because they had been educated in Tamil medium, they would buy all the Tamil magazines available then, namely, Kumudam, Kalki, Kalkandu and Ananda Vikatan. They would bind all the novels being serialized and published in weekly installments. When the third aunt got married I was some six years old and too young to start reading the grown-up's books.


Within the next few years or so, I discovered the Tamil books and fell upon them with a fervour which made my grandmother comment, "Won't you get neck pain if you keep burying your face in the books all day long?" I would reply crossly, "What do you want me to do?" She would say, "Why don't you talk or play or something", for which I would reply, "Come on, let me talk to you!'whereupon she would just shake her head and get busy with her household work. She would be making numerous trips to and from the main door and 'thinnai' where my grandfather would be presiding over his field labourers in the evening, distributing wages. Maybe this was the way she demonstrated the love she felt for her grand-daughter who was visiting!

My uncle had a super edition of Shakespeare's complete work but I could make neither head nor tail of it as you can guess. All his other books were of college level and I could not decipher any of them. Still the printed pages fascinated me and every year I would just go through his books, wishing I could understand the content. It was many years before I did understand them! I would search for more books when I had exhausted all of my aunt's collection and tried to read the few books in my grandfather's room. I was very disappointed to see that all were books about astrology. (My grandfather dabbled in amateur astrology and kept almanacs and books for that purpose). I would not leave any printed word and would read through all the packing papers. In those days groceries were sold in 'pottalam' made from papers torn from old newspapers and books. Once we had bought peanuts from a vendor and read through the paper in which it had been packed. We found the address of a girl who had written a leave letter model for English composition in her school notebook. Promptly we wrote a letter to her asking her to be our pen-friend, giving our complete address! Fortunately our uncle intercepted this attempt when we were about to post the card and explained to us the dangers in giving out our address to complete strangers.

My uncle's other interests were drawing and body-building. He would do push-ups and weights training and we children loved to hang by his stiffly held arms when he was in a good mood and indulged us! He would draw well-muscled men in his special notebook and we were amazed to see an artist amidst us! Just by copying his drawing notebook, we also tried to learn the art of drawing. We would copy the drawings which accompanied the serial stories in Tamil weekly magazines. We loved drawing the historical characters in the stories of Kalki and Chandilyan which were being published in Vikatan and Kumudam in those years, as the women characters wore a lot of lovely jewellery!

My sister V and myself did learn the fundamentals of drawing from his books and we would use pieces of chalk to draw on the cement floor of the house, as blank papers were hard to come by in the village. Every available notebook was hogged by my aunt to take down the lyrics of all the Tamil film songs and to write stories. She would keep sending her stories to magazine but I don't recollect any of them being published! We would try to leave a pathway through the 'drawings' but towards evening the available floor space would have shrunk and we would use the 'pathways' too for our drawing practice!The adults would yell at us as their bare feet (Any footwear is not used inside the house-all footwear would be left outside the main door) would start burning after stepping on the chalky figures.

The intellectually stimulating environment of our paternal grandparents' house was more attractive to us than the maternal granparents' house where no chool/college going people were available. If our parents had to go back to their workplace, leaving the kids in the care of our grandparents, we would vote for being left in our paternal grandparents' village rather than the town house of our maternal grandparents! As a result of these stays all of us developed a love for reading, listening to songs and appreciating art.

Summer Vacation

When we were a bit older, we didn't spend as much time in our hometowns because of the demands of school. After we came back from our trip, we stayed indoors for most part of the hot summer days. We lived in a Housing Board Colony and so, all the other tenants were also civil servants with school/college going children. In the evenings we could play organized games like ring tennis, Badminton and for the boys, street cricket.

By this time I was in my teens and in the school final year and so felt ' older and wiser'! Being the responsible eldest, I managed the younger ones all through the day. I kept them occupied with various activities.

By the time we finished breakfast the house would have been cleaned and we would be free to do whatever, in the kids' room. We would gather in the room and sit on mats on the floor. Tearing off the unused paper in the last year's school notebooks, we would divide them among ourselves. My younger sister and myself would lead the two groups (as there were six of us we had three in each group) and hold various competitions. The first was a drawing competition in which the youngest would 'win' prizes (as they were too young to write whole sentences) of chocolate bars and a 'certificate' hand made by us. The next would be a poetry competition in which the two eldest (namely my younger sister V and myself!) would win the 'prizes'. The essay writing competion prizes would be given to the middle kids (to encourage their newly found skills of writing grammatically). Though I remember one time when my middle sister U surprised us all by writing a poem which was very original and honest and so won the prize for poem which was usually reserved for the oldest, namely me! It went like this:

Oh butterfly! How beautiful you are,

And how beautiful I am!

When we grew tired of these 'intellectual' pursuits, it would be lunch time. Happily my mother had a cook at home and so she would never ask us to help us with household work. We would have our lunch and return to our room. The next part of the games was very thrilling. We would darken the windows and close the door. With a darkened room the older kids would start telling ghost stories giving our fertile imagination a free rein. The younger ones would start shrieking in fear and there would ensue such a racket that my mother who would be enjoying her siesta would be rudely awakened by all the noise and give a warning shout from the adjacent room! So I had to control the noise level through these stories and stop the proceedings abruptly sometimes.

We would read books for sometime and V and myself would attempt our hand at writing stories ourselves. We would always start a picture story with the CID officer named Shankar (influenced by the Jaishankar movies with a CID Shankar) and put 'to be continued' at the bottom of the page. We were quite good at drawing and our younger siblings would clamour for more of the story but they always were 'to be continued' as our holidays would come to an end soon and we would be too busy with our school work to continue running the 'magazine'.

We would buy pulp children's magazines in Tamil (costing 20paise each) and translated Phantom comics). Once V sent a story for a children's magazine named 'Anil' (squirrel') with a request saying that she need not be paid at all but just publishing is enough! Much to our thrill it was published, with a picture for the story appearing on the cover! Of course they did not even send a complimentary copy but we had to buy it in the shop!

Sometimes we would put on make up and dress up like grown ups and stage dramas for our own benefit. We would write a script ourselves and hold a bedsheet as a screen and with the other 'actors' who were not in the scene being the audience, we would have a hilarious time dressing up and acting in turns. Sometimes my mom, alerted by our running to and fro for her sarees, my father's veshti and face powder, would come in to watch as one of the audience. Initially we would resist her attempts to come inside our room (fearing her scoldings for 'borrowing' her garments) but she always used to enjoy our performances proudly. My younger sisters who were learning Bharathanatyam for sometime would give 'performances', though they could do only a few initial steps at that time. Once I heard her boasting to her relative how her numerous kids kept themselves engaged in the summer holidays that her neighbours would wonder whether all of them had gone to stay with their grandparents! She was happy and proud that we were such a disciplined lot:-)

I think all these summer time activities kindled our imagination and made us more creative. I think the absence of television was the major cause for all these activities and am really thankful for it! We enjoyed our childhood so much with our own activities instead of watching others taking part!

Travelling through the night

My parents were very much interested in travelling. We used to be taken to various distant cities during school vacation time on a week's trip. Our family was a big one as was every family in those days before family planning. But the size of the family never deterred our parents from lugging us all around the state. In fact I suspect that in some hotels people had started wondering whether we belonged to a school excursion party at the sight of so many children swarming all over the lounge when we checked in!

Whenever our school vacation started we would load the boot of the car, the roomy Ambassador (rented ones before my father bought his own) with big suitcases. My mother would have packed all of us one set of clothes for each day of the travel in one big case while the other one would contain the clothes of my parents. (My mother who loved dressing up in new sarees, would pack two sets of dresses for each day!) Then all the spare blankets would be shoved inside the big 'airbag'. Another basket would contain a primus stove and various ready-to-make flours to make dosas wherever we stayed for the night. They would have packed lunch and dinner for the first day too. We could see a bunch of banana leaves to be used as dinnerware, stuck amidst the luggage.

My parents would sit in the front with the driver and the smallest kid. All the older kids would sit in the roomy back seat. Since we all were thin and small this was possible! There would be a great fight for the two window seats. My younger sister V would always get to sit in the window seat as she had been sick, once, long ago and so had earned the 'right' to sit near the window to catch the fresh air blowing in from the open window and thereby 'avoid' travel sickness. (There were no air-conditioned cars then.) All the others would take turns to sit at the other window; after much fight, of course. The travel as such would be very hot and stuffy (no wonder, with all of us packed like sardines with bits and pieces of bags and snacks) in the daytime. But we all had a rollicking time at the back with various word games and anthakshari of film songs (which was made popular then by Radio Ceylon.)


We would stop for a picnic lunch at the roadside, under a shady tree, if possible, near a stream so that we could wash our hands. My mother would spread a big ground sheet she kept in the boot for this purpose and we would all have our meals there. This is one of the most enjoyable memories I have of all our travels. We would go for a walk in the nearby fields and coconut groves while the landowner would look on the 'city people' (us!) passing through their area with curiosity and would sometimes offer tender coconut milk from his trees.

We would stop for the groundnut being dried on the wayside and buy from them to munch. The usual cucumber, cucumber fruit, palm fruit(nungu), roasted cobs of corn and guava fruits would be bought from the wayside vendors whenever the car had to wait at a level crossing for the trains to pass by. These were the snacks we would usually eat while travelling, our hands sticky with so many fresh snacks and stopping often to clean ourselves at the municipal taps on the streets of passing towns.

Night time travel was something I always liked. Usually my smaller siblings would have fallen asleep by nightfall and I would be free to sit at the window. (Alll through the day I would have had to sacrifice the window seat to them, as the responsible eldest child, though I was only nine or ten at that time!) My younger sister at the other window and myself would hold a singing 'competition', each singing at the top of our voices various film songs. But we would never listen to each other. Each would be in our own world as all our singing would be into the open windows! We just enjoyed letting ourselves go free with all our 'singing' and enjoy the experience immensely. I recollect the rush of the cold night air into my face and the semidarkness inside the car, even now, whenever I hear one of those songs. If happiness is something we feel at such moments, I was truly happy then!

Being a Hindu

The first time I ever thought about the idea of my religious identity was following a childhood incident. As is usual with children, I was in the questions-all-the-time phase. With an irresistible urge to shoot questions about each and everything I came across, I happened to read an Enid Blyton book for small children. I think it was Amelia Jane or some such book. I was fascinated by the name Jane and went running to my mother.

I complained to her saying that I was not named Jane or Elizabeth or Jessica or some other nice names like those but a rather (according to me) dull Indian name.

Then she said that only Christians were given such names and not Hindus like us. That was the very first time I was made aware of the fact that I was a Hindu! Of course being a Hindu meant celebrating one festival or the other every few weeks and going to a temple whenever my parents went (which was every week or once in a month according to the availability of free time).

My mother (as almost all the mothers in our country) took on the responsibility of keeping the family in the good books of various gods by observing fasts for the various Hindu deities on the days earmarked for them according to the Hindu rituals. (Whatever religious rituals the women of the household observe, the resulting good fortune is supposed to be distributed to all the members of the family!) But she was very nice in the sense that she never forced us to observe the various fasts but just invited us to join in offering the sweet and savouries, prepared to break the fast, to the gods. We would then polish them off!

As children, our religion meant that we had to take an early shower in the mornings and pray to the gods for a few minutes standing in front of the small puja shelf (shrine) where pictures of various deities were kept. Such a routine start gave us a fresh start to each day, all of us smelling nice and clothed in freshly washed dresses. I assumed that people from the other religions kept a different set of pictures of their gods in their homes and according to me, that was the only difference between the various religions!

Playtime!

As children everywhere have done through the years, my friends and I spent almost all our waking hours in playing as I have told earlier elsewhere.

In those days toys were something that only babies had. This was in those days before plastic was widely available. Almost all the toys were made of wood or other organic material. Imported toys made of plastic were available then but only if you had relatives abroad or knew someone who would sell these imported items. So children had to improvise playthings with what was available in the house or backyard. As this had been done through ages some 'toys' were handed down from generation to generation, like the 'marapachi'-the wooden doll.

Small babies were given 'kilukiluppai' (Rattle) made of dried palm leaves with some pebbles or big seeds inside. It would also have a handle made of a stick with thin strips of palm leaves. We can rattle it to produce a sound which would grab the attention of crying babies. They were made to sleep in 'Thottil' or Yenai,( as cloth cradle is called in our side) made of old 'veshti' or saree (as new cloth would not be soft). It is basically a cloth hammock hung from the ceiling from the rafters or a hook. (Rather than the flat baby cot, Yenai gives the babies a secure feeling as the sides gives a light pressure on the babies' bodies. My grandmother used to say that it would shape the heads of the babies into a rounded form unlike the flat backs of the babies made to sleep on a flat surface.)

Colourful toys would be hung from the cross bar of the Yenai which babies could see when they woke up. Otherwise small babies were not given any toys. Mostly they were cuddled and crooned over by one or the other member of the household, usually a large joint family and were not left alone for long. Teething rings were unheard of. Small children would be admonished not to touch the babies. I remember how we would steal a peak and enjoy the thrill of the babies grabbing our fingers to bite with their toothless gums. We never thought about hygiene and germs and maybe this was how the babies developed immunity! When they were toddlers they were given a walk-cart made of wood (Nadai Vandi) with which they could practice walking. Older kids would be gifted with a Rocking Horse made of wood. Girls would be gifted with 'Choppu' set of tiny wooden kitchen vessels for playing house. These would be sold near the temple or in temple festivals in a carton of palm leaves.

By now a smaller kid would have arrived on the scene and the older kids would have been shooed off from the 'Yenai' being told that the baby would have body-ache if the Yenai is used by older kids! Our grandparents would provide us with swings made of a small plank and coir rope hung from the mango trees in the backyard (as car tires were not widely available then).

When we were 3-5 years old we were neither babies small enough for rattles etc., nor old enough to join the young boys and girls playing active games outside. We would only play inside the house or the backyard. Mostly we were left to our own devices. Somehow all the games we played in our grandparents' house using 'playthings' we made ouselves stand out in my memory rather than the games we played in our parents' house with the real toys they bought for us!

We girls would play house with enthusiasm with whatever ‘choppu’ was left over from last year’s gift and would just pilfer small vessels from the kitchen to supplement them. We would demarcate the walls with chalk pieces and play house. In the summer vacation we would make 'proper houses' with mats and bedsheets to make tiny walls and roof and would enjoy sitting in the sweltering 'house'! We would polish coconut shells and use them too. For milk we would break the ‘kaattamanakku’ plant (Jatropha plant) which would bleed white milk-like substance which would serve as ‘milk’ in our ‘house’. We would use sand as rice and finely powdered red brick mixed with water as the ‘samabar’. We would use the leaves of the wildly growing ‘athi’ plant as serving leaf instead of the banana leaf used in a real house.

We would invite the small boys to have ‘meals’ in our ‘house’ and they would come home from their ‘shop keeping’. As boys found it demeaning to ‘cook’ they would play the role of breadwinners keeping ‘shop’. They would sell the sand ‘rice’, brick powder, ‘jatropha ‘milk’ and ‘keerai’-some small wild plant.

Boys would improvise their own playthings with the palm fruits serving as the wheels for a pull cart. We could make small hand held fans (kaathadi) with palm leaves. For the fan to rotate fast we needed fine needle like sticks. We would roam around the locality in search of the wild thorny trees (karuvela maram) which provided us with the perfect axis for our little ‘fans’. We would hold them and run fast which would make the fans rotate fast too. If it was a windy day we could just hold them and admire the fast rotation.

We would make home made kites for the windy days, with newspapers and sticks of coconut leaves , ‘borrowed’ from the brooms in the kitchen. Our mothers would yell at us on seeing the loosened brooms. We always wondered how they found out that we had taken out some sticks! Most of the times the 'kites' would not take off at all as they would be too heavy with all the cooked rice we had used as gum to stick the sticks and paper!

We would make paper boats out of newspapers and note papers and float them in the huge vessels used for storing water in the courtyard.We would make 'music' out of 'pipes' made of broad leaves rolled into marrow pipes. Or we would just blow on the petals of rose and any flower broad enough to cover our lips which noise never failed to annoy the grown ups! We would play 'drums' out of brass plates and metal ladles.

Any empty powder tin or any discarded candy or biscuit tins made of metal were precious and were hoarded through the year. We would even make tiny 'toys' out of the glittering wrapper of the boiled sweets sold as chocolates in those days, especially 'Parry's' and would line up our 'house' with tiny figures of 'dancing girls' made of these wrappers.

Sometimes older teenage girls would decide to play house with us too, leaving their grown up games. Then they would bring real rice, dal and jaggery and we would build a real fire between three stones. Using these and a real pot we would make ‘koottanchoru’ which tasted heavenly just because we had cooked it ourselves!

Festival of Aadiperukku

Another important festival for the people living on the banks of the River Cauvery is Aadipperukku which is celebrated every year on the 18th of the Tamil month of Aadi. At this time the river would be overflowing with new flood after the summer months. From time immemorial, this festival has been celebrated to welcome the life-giving water from the distant hills of Coorg where the river is born.

In the days before dams and disputes, the natural course for the river was to flow anew during this period as the monsoons set in in the month of June at the West coast and Western Ghats. After the hot summer the monsoon rains start in June bringing the parched lands on the banks of the river, manna in the form of new flood. Farming would start and the fields would be green with newly transplanted paddy.

This festival is celebrated all along the towns and villages on the banks of almost all the rivers in TamilNadu as the monsoon rains in the Western Ghats bring new flood in the rivers of the state. Of course, nowadays, the man made dams and reservoirs stop this natural flow of the river and has made this festival meaningless:-( But I recollect, that in my childhood days we could be sure of new flood during this period. Maybe then nature was more bountifull.

Much like the festival of Kaanum Pongal, we would prepare a picnic lunch and set off for the banks of the river. Small children would be pulling 'chapparams' (a small pull-cart with an imitation of a temple-like structure which can be pulled with a string by small kids) adorned with colourful streamers. Women would offer the River Cauvery which is personified as a woman, flowers, bangles and earrings made of palm leaves ( the most common earrings for women in days of yore). Rice and jaggery would also be part of the things offered. The women would treat this festival as yet another occasion for a get-together among the ladies. Besides offering puja to the river, they would offer puja for all the various deities in the small temples on the banks of the river.

Usually there would be big neem trees and peepul trees entwined with each other on the banks of the river as it is everywhere-trees that grow from the seeds sown by birds eating the small berrylike seeds of these trees-and so having acquired a holy status would be having various statues of snakes (worshipped as deities-Nagas) and the Seven Virgin Goddesses (Saptha Kanni) placed under them hundreds of years back. For good measure the women would offer pujas to them also. After the puja they would tie yellow threads dipped in turmeric and kept in the puja offerings, as a mark of their prayers. Men would tie these threads around their wrists.

Newly wed couples would be offering puja to the river for the first time. The bride would be staying in her parents' place during the month of Aadi and the groom would have been invited to her place for the festival and would be showered with feasts and gifts. The womenfolk of the house would change the 'thaali' made of yellow thread around the neck of the bride (which has been tied as the 'Mangalasutra' by the groom on the wedding day) to a gold chain on this day, as it is considered an auspicious day.

Various vendors and merchants would camp on the banks to sell their wares. Of course all the usual sticky boiled sweets and pink cotton candies would be the attraction for us kids! Boys and young men would show their prowess in swimming by climbing to the tallest branches of the trees on the banks of the river and diving from there. I recollect how boys jumped from the bridge on the River Cauvery in Trichy. It was a thrilling sight to see them diving even from the train just as it was crossing the railway bridge. Of course many stories of death by drowning in the floods would also be heard when these thrill-seeking youngsters meet with unfortunate accidents.

The thing I recollect most about this festival is the sight of my maternal grandfather building us a 'Chapparam' . Though they were sold commercially he prided himself in recycling the old ones made of wood with colourful papers and streamers!

Tips: For puja we use:

For Kaveri Thai Puja on the banks of the river:
Small black bangles used for newborn babies
earings made of palm leaves ('kaadholai)

For house puja:

Soaked and drained raw rice, mixed in melted jaggery (kaapparisi)

Banana
coconut
Betal Leaves
Betal Nuts
Flowers
Turmeric

All puja offerings should be placed on Banana Leaf or Silver Plate for offering.

Then do the usual puja ceremony with incence sticks and camphor lit and water sprinkled clockwise over the offerings.







Banana

Kaanum Pongal

After Bhogi, Pongal and Mattu Pongal the next day is celebrated as Kaanum pongal, literally meaning 'seeing '. This day is used mostly for going to picnic spots and enjoying ourselves socializing. Thousands of people throng the Marina beach in Chennai on this day, these days.

Our native place would see people going to the banks of the River Cauvery to enjoy the day. Early in the morning the womenfolks would cook varieties of rice and side dishes to go with it, mostly some spicy chutneys and crunchy vadaams and pappads. Yumm! If at all the men would assist them, it was to cut some banana leaves from the backyard and make them into parcels for a picnic lunch. Loading the food into bamboo baskets, bullock carts would go to the banks of the river, the women riding in them. The children would skip behind the carts, the men having gone there long back.

My grandmother would lead the women to do the puja for Mother Cauvery and for the deity shrined in the small temple at the bank. The ancient steps leading to the river (built in the days of the long ago Chola kings) would be strewn with flowers and smeared with turmeric and kumkum. After this prayer was over, we would all have the picnic lunch and start upon various games. Men would be playing kabadi, wrestling and other boisterous games while the women would be having competitions on various indoor games like Pallanguzhi, Ezhu Kal etc., gossiping about relatives and neighbours even as their hands were handling the games! many marriage proposals would be finalized on this day as the youngsters concerned could be given the once-over by the elders in this informal setting. The children would be having a whale of a good time, with the whole mood of the crowd getting merrier as the time flew.

Girls who whose marriages were getting delayed would be made to sit in the centre of a ring of women dancing for 'kummipattu'-this was guaranteed remedy for getting their marriage fixed soon! After a siesta, the festivities would resume in the evening, the crowd disbursing as dusk fell. All our new dresses would be dirty and though our bodies were tired our hearts would be contented and happy with the day's pleasurable activities.

Our winter vacation would usually end by the year end and school would reopen around the 3rd of January. We are supposed to be present on the reopening day. But during some years, the temptation to extend the vacation to include Pongal festival would be very great. The state declares holidays for 3-4 days every year for this festival. Combined with Saturdays and Sundays, sometimes you might get 10 days of vacation if you take leave for one or two days. Our parents would decide that we could stay at our grandparents' for some more time and that we could return to our own home after Pongal celebrations were over. Despite the fact that we would face severe admonitions from the teachers for having been absent on reopening day, we would be enjoying the extended holidays. When your parents said that you could spend some more days -which were actually school working days- on vacation it was simply heaven! Of course, when we went back we had to copy all the class work done in our absence and work very hard indeed. But it was worth it!

Maattu Pongal

The day after Pongal is celebrated as Maattu Pongal -literally Pongal for cattel-in honour of the cattle which helped the farmers to plough and sow to reap a bountiful harvest. For city folks, this festval does not have any meaning at all. But in the farming community the cows and bulls would be scrubbed clean and their horns painted in myriad colours and the cattle adorned with colourful flowers around their necks and a paste of turmeric applied on their foreheads with a round spot of 'kumkum' in the centre. The pointed horns of the bullocks (In our district the horns of the bulls are left to grow unlike some other places where they would be singed at the time of growth, such cattle are called 'mottai maadu' meaning bald cattle, while our bulls were called 'kombu maadu', meaning cattle with horns-At the ploughs, mottai maadu would be paired with another mottai maadu while bulls with horns were paired together) would be covered with special ornamental brass covers with a colourful tassles at the end. Their necks would be garlanded after being smeared with turmeric and sandal pastes. We enjoyed making all the yellow and red marks on their bodies with turmeric and kumkum, though we were afraid to even go near the bulls and the men would do it themselves. As for us we would brave a visit to the stable where the cows would show their necks patiently to us! The smaller children would fight for the chance to decorate the smallest calves!

The cattle would be gathered at the riverside and a community 'pongal' would be cooked at the banks of the river (in my mother's place-though some people did it at their own backyard and stable too). The cattle would be fed this Pongal and fresh green grass. Usually the men would do this ritual. Boys and small girls also would accompany them to watch the ceremony.

At home, our courtyard would be decorated with beautiful kolams as is usual for the duration of Pongal festival. The ladies would build a shallow square at one side of the main entrance with cowdung and it would further be divided by two crossed lines into four squares, the walls around an inch high. Each square would be filled to the brim with turmeric water, milk and other such auspicious coloured things-I do not remember the things but only the sharp contrast in the different colours. All around flowers would be strewn and this symbol marked the welcome sign for the cattle when they made their grand entrance back from their sojourn to the riverside.

Towards evening the men would return driving them home, with the boys beating drums (and those who didn't get a drum would get hold of brass plates and sticks). All would be running behind the bulls very fast indeed! The sound of the hooves, the men's shouts, the boys' drums-the whole atmosphere in the evening twilight was very thrilling to watch! At the back the few cows would be tottering behind slowly masticating the grass and not at all bothered by the boisterous behaviour of their companions! This is a small scale 'manju virattu' taking place in almost all the villages and small towns every year. (In some parts of the state, like in Alanganallur in Madurai district, this would be conducted on a grand scale and madly rushing bulls with sharp pointed horns, trained through the year for this occasion, would be valiantly brought down by unarmed youth braving injury and death. )

When they reached home the cattle would be given a grand welcome with 'arathi' and 'kumkum' and would be made to cross the threshold over a rice-pounding wooden stick (ulakkai) and a fewstalks of burning hay, which apparently brought good luck to them and the household, according to my grandmother! This royal welcome would mark the end of this festival.

The same evening people would offer food to their forefathers in a special ceremony at home. For this they would prepare all sort of dishes, both vegetarian and non-vegetarian, along with many sweets and savouries. As it was supposed to be offered to the spirits of the dead-and-gone, the dishes would be given to us only after 10 pm or so. I can recollect how we used to grumble about being woken up at what felt like midnight and told to eat a grand feast! Finally we would eat the sweets and savouries when we got up the next morning.

The next day is celebrtated as kaanum pongal which merits a separate blog! Watch for it!

Pongal Festival

Pongal, the festival Thanksgiving to the Sun God for a plentiful harvest, is celebrated throughout Tamil Nadu around January 14th every year. In the agrarian society of Tamil Nadu, this is the original major festival celebrated from ancient times. So we used to get new clothes for Pongal. Our grandparents owned lots of lands and cattle and this festival is very important to the farming community of our state.

Actually this festival has some customs which are based on sound scientific principles of aintaining hygiene. It marks the end of the rainy season and the ensuing damp winter by which has given rise to mouldy patches on the roofs and walls of the dwellings. Traditionally you are supposed to clean the whole house from top to bottom (including all the clothes, blankets, beds and unused things reserved for occasions). All mattresses would be dried in the sun. Then the house will be given a whitewash. The whole house would be sparkling clean by the day of the festival.

The things to be discarded would include all organic use and throw articles like baskets and 'moram's made of bamboo sticks and mats made of reeds as they would have become mouldy at the end of the rainy season and the following cloudy winter. The day before Pongal is called 'Bhogi' and all these threadbare mats and baskets would be used to make a bonfire and disposed off.

On the evening of Bhogi we used to have elaborate special festival cooking comprising of many sweets and special meals. The next day was Pongal. In the morning the women would draw elaborate 'kolams' in front of the main entrance. It was a visual treat to view all the different patterns in front of each house, adorned with colour powders. We children would help the women to colour the kolam patterns and we would have got out of our beds early enough to do this, on our own! it was so very interesting and enjoyable to assist that creative art. In the centre a lump of cowdung would be kept. A pumpkin flower would be stuck on to a lump of cowdung kept in the centre of the kolam to add to its beauty.

In fact, all through the previous month of 'Margazhi' the beautiful kolams in front of all the houses used to give the women an opportunity to display their artistic skills, in the more than elaborate kolams required for this month in praise of Lord Krishna. Pumpkin flowers would be delivered by the farmhands every morning to adorn the kolams which used to be a different one each day. We children used to go around our street trying to judge which one was the most artistic/complicated/ new pattern etc., every morning. Our winter vacation would start just before the 25th of December. So we had the chance to appreciate all the Margazhi kolam in our grandparents' place. It is a temple town and most of the people conformed to all these traditional practices. In fact, every girl started saving all the new kolams she saw every year in a notebook/diary. This picture is from one of those diaries!

Of course the Age of Internet has information for everyone and the flollowing link is a good one for learning kolams, recommended by my daughter:

http://kolangal.kamalascorner.com/


For pongal festival our grandmother would lead all the ladies in our street to bring water from the River Cauvery nearby. They would each take a 'kudam', a pot made of brass, silver or even mud- and after bathing in the river they would bring back water in the pots. This water would be used for cooking the Pongal which was to be offered to the Sun God that day.

The previous week our grandfather who believed in making anything from scratch, would have prepared five blocks made of bricks and mud, dried in the sun. These would be arranged in the centre of the 'mutram' on a bed of sand (square of courtyard inside the house, open to the sky) inside the house in a pattern that made them into two woodstoves. (Pongal, the rice offering of the festival, is traditionally prepared under the open sky, not inside the kitchen.) The sand would protect the floor of the courtyard from the heat and by placing the firewood in the two openings between the blocks, two stoves were ready to function. He would also bring home a big bunch of paddy stalks and tie it on the roof of the front 'thinnai' where the sparrows would make a meal of it flying in and out of the house to feed. The women would draw elaborate kolams of rice flour which would feed the ants. This practice of feeding birds and ants taught the children to respect and live with nature, along the course of the festival.

We children would gather all the dry twigs, dry coconut trees' leaves, coconut shells etc which made very good fuel for the fire, from the backyard where a coconut grove and various trees grew. Grandmother would have consulted the astrologer to know the most auspicious time for cooking the Pongal rice. At the time she would keep the new mudpots (you should use only new pots) on the two stoves. She would shape a lump of cowdung on a brick in the courtyard and adorn it with 'arugampul' and flowers. This was the symbolic God for this festival. After doing camphor 'arathi' she would put the burning camphor on the twigs in the temporary stoves and start the fire. She would throw a small bit of the paddy stalk (vaikkol). When it started turning black from the heat, she would announce the pots were heated enough forthe cooking to follow. Now a mixture of milk and water would be poured in the pots. When it started boiling and sometimes flowing over the kids would start shouting 'Pongalo Pongal!'.

The newly harvested rice would be added into the two pots and cooked on the fire which was kept burning by feeding various indigenous materials gathered from the backyard. After much begging, we children would also feed the fire with the twigs etc., I remember a sort of competition to throw the coconut shells in the fire as they burnt very brightly all of a sudden, after reaching the burning point in a matter of minutes. Small thrills, never forgotten! Again we would keep shouting 'Pongalo Pongal' every time the pots were overflowing. Literally 'Pongal' means 'overflowing'. As it is a thanksgiving to the Gods for a bountiful harvest, this tradition had been followed through the ages.

When the big pot is cooked, grandmother would keep the rice in the big pot as it was, bland and white, cooked to a pulp. This was called 'Pongal' Now she would add jaggery, ghee, cashews and dry grapes to the smaller pot and flavour it with cardamom. This was the 'sarkarai Pongal', the sweet dish. After taking it off the heat, she would cook a stew of mixed vegetables consisting of the fresh harvest of the season. This was the side dish for the plain pongal. After my grandmother offered the two pongals to the Sun God, by showing burning camphor kept on a plate towards the sky., we would all sit for the meals consisting of the two pongals and vegetable stew. By this time all our excitement in the proceedings of the festival would have been exhausted and we would gobble up the food and run off to play.

The next two days were also part of this festival. They deserve a separate blog each!
Watch this space!

December Flowers!

Our half-yearly vacation was always looked forward to very eagerly by all of us. For one thing the weather was very pleasant, the winter temperature never going below 20 degrees celsius in our state, in the plains. In the summer vacation we would be scolded for playing outside too much in the sun but the winter vacations were just right for the kids and we could play all through the day. Only when dusk fell we would be called home lest we caught any chill from the 'cold' weather.

My grandfather's place in the village must have registered lower temperatures as it was the only time I ever saw the coconut oil in the house freezing solid. It was always a pleasure to look forward to the scooping of the oil with our fingers (no spoon!) and letting it melt in the warmth of our palms and applying it on our hair. We used to apply oil daily on our hair and plaster it into pigtails or close-cut crop, depending on whether we grandchildren were girls or boys. In fact we came to see shampooed hair only in our teens when we moved into bigger towns! If anybody's head sported a single hair out of place from the slicked-back oily look, we were admonished by the elders why we were going around with such a beggarly appearance! Apparently only the poorest of the poor couldn't afford oil for their hair!

The winter saw the arrival of 'December flowers' in the markets. It was so called because they were aplenty in the month of December though they started flowering in November and would still be available till the end of February. All the girls in Tamilnadu used to wear flowers in their hair everyday after tying their hair into plaits, double or single.This part of our culture is still alive in the villages though the city girls have dropped this habit. The December flowers were very much sought after by us as they came in many colours and we could choose the exactly matching shade for our dresses! The flowers didn't have any fragrances and now I know why older women didn't use them so much to adorn their hair but children were crazy after the flowers. The deep blue ones and the plain white ones which were matching our uniform dresses were favoured for our school days. We used to wear long strings of these flowers.

When we went to the small town where my other grandparents lived, the December flowers were sold at a house which had a back garden full of these flowers in various colours. They were not professional flower vendors but they used to sell these seasonal flowers to make a bit of money rather than letting them fall to the ground at the end of the day, being of no use to anybody.

The only difficulty was that these flowers would have sold out by 7 am. We should reserve which colours we wanted the previous day itself. The light pink colour was much in demand and I remember one occasion when I had set my heart for this colour but the lady of the house said that it was already sold out! Seeing my diappointment she said that the order was for 300 flowers (Yes, they would count them out) but if the shrubs happened to produce more, I could have them.

The next morning, the minute I was awake, I remembered the lady's promise and jumped up from the bed. The day was just dawning. Straightaway I ran to their house which was just at the corner in the next street at the end of our street. Seeing me running, two of my cousins who were also staying at my grandparents' followed me, without even knowing what was up! Breathless from running, we knocked at their door and the sleepy-eyed inmates opened their door to see three disheveled children waiting to buy the flowers which had not even started opening their petals yet! Their son who would usually pluck the flowers muttered something and went back to sleep! In the end, myself and my cousins plucked the flowers ourselves, helped the lady to count them out and managed to buy the extra flowers for ourselves.

We returned home triumphantly and were soundly scolded by our mother for having presented ourselves like beggars at a stranger's house, without even combing our hair or washing our faces. So what, we had the pleasure of wearing our favourite coloured flowers that day! Nothing I bought later on when I grew up into adulthood had ever matched the joy I felt when I got those flowers!