Nurungukal….2…

      Post harvest festivals are commonly celebrated in Kerala as part of an offering to various Gods or Goddesses. Most of them are in the form of rituals which have set patterns. Besides an expression of obeisance to the Deity, these festivals are part of joy and happiness that reflects the essentials of respective social fabric where each community have predefined functions. Although in the past most of them were conducted to enjoy the fruits of a good harvest. But now they are  merely routine rituals providing a chance to be hilarious in the company of a joyous crowd. The committees who organise such rituals make sure that the programme includes such ingredients in the name of divinity which can trigger not only a chance to worship but also for abundant pleasure.It can be either a colourful procession by parading a set of caparisoned elephants, in the company of many types of musical percussions. Folklore artists are an inevitable part of this galore. They have an ancestral right to perform. The art forms  are diversified from place to place and are related to the class of the main Deity of a temple.

      A few years ago I had a an opportunity to head a temple festival committee. I felt it as a privileged post. Because  during the performance of the theyyams and thiras I was addressed as the karthav  which means the creator. Thus I became an inevitable part of many ceremonies. At the end of each performance the oracle or theyyam or thira addressed me in a trance. I had to accept their commands and agree for compliance. In the process they used to give holy water [ undiluted brandy !!!] or a few pieces of burning charcoal or some time pulled me to and fro on the fire pit. Each such moments gave me an opportunity to test my belief or agility. But above all what I appreciated and enjoyed most in such rituals is the welcome prayer [thottam pattu], so melodious, stimulating your senses, when its crescendo reaches in high notes breaking the silence of a dead night and the entry of the enigmatic figure, colourful and fierce looking. The glow of the flames of many oil lamps reflecting on the surrounding mass, eagerly watching the proceedings can make you spell bound. I have witnessed in their face anxiety,sorrow, expectation,happiness, quest for consolation above all a confidence for being a part of a Devine togetherness. At the end when you are drenched by the turmeric water from the burning cauldrons by a sprinkling with the areca nut fronts one attains the satisfaction of being purified externally also. Can you visualise any other function which can cleanse simultaneously your mind and body at a time?........

Nurungukal…2….

    I always enjoyed the calls in high pitch of the hawkers, irrespective of the location viz, streets, beach, railway stations etc.. each has its own identity enabling you to easily recognise the location. If it is the chorus shouting of chai chai chai in the morning hours it is certain you have reached Malabar. At break fast time the tune is different dosai dosai. Then it is Shornoor. in Tamilnadu  you will be awakened  by melodious calls of flower sellers, mallige, kanagambaram or December.While enjoying an evening in Marina or Pondy beach it is the fragrance of cooked bengal gram[chundal] attracts you by a crisp sound. And one can never resist to taste a combination of masala gram and mango bits served in paper cones. In front of Mambalam railway station it is the rhythmic shouting of mango vendors, announcing the number and rate , 20-10 ,10-20 in repetition.If you happened to see a line of laddies selling vegetables drawing your attention by calling amma, ayya  on the side of a railway track you can be sure that you are passing through a village in the suburbs of Coimbatore or Erode, where the train driver invariabily obliges the hawkers by stopping for a while in exchange of a basket of farm fresh vegetables. The arrival of Avadi station can be easily  recognised if you hear the hooting of sirens in different pitch and tunes. In Lal Bagh garden it is the chirping of birds when they come to roost at dusk.The appeal of the women fish vendors in different markets in Kerala can force any one to make a deal.

    In every call, irrespective of the tune and pitch there is one thing in common.A struggle for survival and self reliance and expression of respective social culture.

Nurungukal…2….

    I always enjoyed the calls in high pitch of the hawkers, irrespective of the location viz, streets, beach, railway stations etc.. each has its own identity enabling you to easily recognise the location. If it is the chorus shouting of chai chai chai in the morning hours it is certain the train has  reached Malabar. At break fast time the tune is different dosai dosai. Then it is Shornoor. in Tamilnadu  you will be awakened  by melodious calls of flower sellers, mallige, kanagambaram or December.While enjoying an evening in Marina or Pondy beach it is the fragrance of cooked bengal gram[chundal] which attracts you followed by a repeated crisp sound. And one can never resist to taste a combination of masala gram and mango bits served in paper cones. In front of Mambalam railway station it is the rhythmic shouting of mango vendors, announcing the number and rate , 20-10 ,10-20 in repetition.If you happened to see a line of laddies selling vegetables drawing your attention by calling amma, ayya  on the side of a railway track you can be sure that you are passing through a village in the suburbs of Coimbatore or Erode, where the train driver invariably obliges the hawkers by stopping for a while in exchange of a basket of farm fresh vegetables. The arrival of Avadi station can be easily  recognised if you hear the hooting of sirens in different pitch and tunes. In Lal Bagh garden it is the chirping of birds when they come to roost at dusk.The appeal of the women fish vendors in different markets in Kerala can force any one to make a deal.

    In every call, irrespective of the tune and pitch there is one thing in common.A struggle for survival and self reliance and expression of respective social culture.

Nurungukal…2..contd..

When the telephone ring awoke me at 2am today, several thoughts passed through me, as usual. The voice on the other side had a shiver, which intensified my apprehension all the more. It was sad and cracking, and conveyed the message that my sister-in-law Padminieduthy is no more. I gasped and ventured to get in the details. It took me a little more time than usual to become normal.

  She had stepped into our family first time as a sprightly young teenager, as result of my sister marrying her uncle. Then as a bride to my elder brother and later on as a scholarly sanskrit teacher and mentor.

   Children of both our families had enjoyed many a vacation exchanging our visits, frolicking in the village arena, either swinging on a rope sling, licking mangoes or a swimming competition in a pond etc. etc. And as time passed she proved her supremacy in competitions like andakshini, akshara slokams , among us. When ever we met during family get together it was laughter and fun.

  Today we have lost a link connecting a glorious past and in me she will remain always as a beacon, rendering a bunch of rays , leading and blessing………