Nurungukal…2…contd…

    It was a mixed gathering yesterday to initiate an awareness program on the relevancy of observing a Kerala’s tradition in food habits in tune with changing seasons. There were a few of my age group, some officials, a batch of Adivasi girls and their elders and to set an apt mood the presence of one or two with long grey hair and long khadar shirts and shoulder bags and many other familiar faces whom you can see in such functions occupying the front seats. Among them I sat with a lost face occasionally wiping the unseasonal sweat with my long towel in the dais not knowing how to start my talk on the importance of ten leaves which are to be included in our diet in the Malayalam month of Karkitakam. It’s a practise which is defunct now as our tastes and habits have already been forced to be changed. To my  surprise the young Lady who was responsible for organising the class came to my rescue and whispered that I can dwell on any subject related to the custom but I should prolong till the dignitary who is to deliver the main speech reports at the venue. I breathed a sigh of relief and waited for my turn, trying to grab a string from my child hood.

       Slowly it started unfolding like a movie film so vivid and clear and as I took the mike in my hand the picture of my mother, in her immaculate traditional attire holding a lighted coconut leaf torch in the left hand and in the other an old bamboo winnow in which some symbolic representation remained to evict the evils from the house, emerged as if in a trance. My brothers and sister took positions behind her holding long banana stalks and ready to enact our roll. In the winnow there were three balls of cooked rice, yellow, white and black. They were placed in the jack fruit leaves folded and pinned at the tip. Before them six leaves pinned in the similar way was placed with cotton threads. An old and used small broom and a ladder made out of banana stalk found their places in the two corners of the winnow.  Slowly mother lifted the winnow and the torch to make a round motion covering the nook and corner of the  room and moved from one room to another repeating the movements rhythmically and artistically starting from the kitchen and ending at the back veranda in a set order. While she does this we followed her chanting in chorus poti po po po, shipothy makkalum va va va, simultaneously beating the banana stalk on the floor to make  to to to sound. She handedover the winnow and the torch to a lady named Devaki who had been with our family for many years to assist mother, attaining the status of a family member. Now it is her turn to go round the house three times while all of us chased her shouting and beating till she escapes , in a trance to dispose  off the winnow and torch under a bush on the banks of a nearby canal. The episode culminated when all of us took a dip in our pond, which was filled with water during the torrent rains received in edavapathy  and earlier nhattuvelas. This event took one or two hours before dusk. Finally all of us sat for a prayer contending that our house and surroundings are clean and tidy so would be our souls.  Off course the cleaning program was over one or two days ahead of the above ritual.

        Next slide in me showed the bundle of different varieties of plants and herbs placed out side the gate on the  ground  smeared with cow dung. It was collected by Chatha one of father’s assistants who was supposed to be an expert in those days to identify each and every flora and fauna of the locality. The value and spirit behind that collection is the best example of conservation practises and touch and feel education about an enigmatic nature. It loudly explained the complexity of life and its existence. I strongly feel that it is such closeness with nature in our child hood might be a reason now to our concern about the damage  caused.

          As a matter of practise the eldest male child in the family  lifts the bundle after a pooja and carrys to the house while all of us saying nira nira poli poli, pathayam nira etc etc. Then inside the house it would be placed in the natumuttam . We would eagerly wait for the moment when our mother would bring the sweet ada for the offering, to grab our share is always a sweet frolic and for the feast afterwards with puthari payasam. This event comes to an end when the herbs and plants are fixed in each corner and door of the house.

          I did not know how long I took to depict this nostalgic memory. The young lady passed on a slip of paper  indicating that the time is up. I was also exhausted and reluctantly closed my talk with a satisfaction of giving me an opportunity to open  my memory  cheppu [cask].