The month of Chingam (August - September) heralds the beginning of the Malayalam year. And the harvest festival of Onam, celebrated on thiruvonam , heralds the bounty of nature. It is interesting to note, however, that while Chingam is the first month of the year, we celebrate Vishu as our New Year. Vishu falls in April, in the month of Medam. Two important festivals, celebrated wherever Malayalees live, celebrations that cut across caste and religion.
Onam is significant in that a) it re-tells the legend of Mahabali, and talks of an age of prosperity and contentment. In that re-telling, it hopes to achieve a paradise on earth that was lost in the mists of time. b) It celebrates a prosperous harvest. After a rain-drenched Karkidakam, Chingam is a month of prosperity, something to look forward to.
As children, we looked forward to Onam, because that was one of the two occasions on which we got new clothes - Onakkodi. The other was our birthday - not the date on the English calendar, but our pirannalu - piranna nalu - the day of our birth, according to the Hindu calendar. I remember wondering why my birthday changed every year. It was very hard to keep track of a moving birthday! As I grew older, however, I started looking forward to finding out just when my pirannalu would be. As my birth month came nearer, I would pore over the Mathrubhumi calendar in our kitchen, voicelessly mouthing the names of the months, until I got to Edavam. Then, laboriously, I would move my finger across the naalu printed under the dates - Ashwati, Bharani, Karthika, Rohini ... until I came to the date that had Thiruvonam printed under it. I would then circle it with a pen, and keep reminding amma that my birthday was coming. We never celebrated an 'English' birthday ever - I have no memories of birthday cakes and candles.
Today, when I celebrate my sons' birthdays on their actual date of birth, I have to smile to myself. I excuse myself saying that it is easier for me to keep track of their birthdays, when it does not move around so, and easier for them, because they know exactly when to look forward to cakes and presents. I wonder, though. Maybe it is fun to have a roving birthday. You never know when you are going to get presents!
Onam festivities traditionally start on the day of Atham - the Atha pookkalam (flower arrangement) is different from the arrangement on the other days. On Atham, the decoration is customarily square. A clay mound, depicting Mahabali is kept in the centre of a cowdung plastered area, and flowers are arranged in a square around it. The choice of blossoms, their colour, the leaves that are used to accentuate the whole, they all sing paeans to the talent of the woman who does the arrangement. Houses are cleaned, and the courtyard is swept, fresh pookkalam is laid out every morning - all culminates in the grand feast on Thiruvonam.
Our Onam breakfast used to consist of pazham nurukku (steamed, ripe Nenthran bananas), with freshly made quartered banana chips. There would also be sarkkara payasam from the Bhagavathi Kshetram near our house. The thirumeni who officiated at the temple made the most delicious nei payasam - after he retired, none of the priests who followed have been able to achieve the same taste. Today, nei payasam is always measured against a remembered taste.
In those days, the young men in the vicinity would come to our house dressed as tigers, to do the traditional Pulikkali. Amma used to say that when they were young, they used to have a swing hung up on a convenient tree branch, and Kaikottikkali was performed by the women. By the time, we came along, our house was strangely bereft of these traditions. I must enter a caveat here - I do not dance. I correct myself :-) I cannot dance. But I still feel sorry that these traditions weren't followed. This is how traditions die out - one cannot pass on what is not experienced!
We used to wait for lunch and the veritable feast that we knew would be there. Maybe it was in remembrance of feast past that I decided that this Onam had to be different. I normally make the Naalum koodiyathu - the four main dishes that are the staple of every Onam sadhya. This year, however, I felt like going the whole hog. So. my Onam menu looked like this:
RiceOnam is significant in that a) it re-tells the legend of Mahabali, and talks of an age of prosperity and contentment. In that re-telling, it hopes to achieve a paradise on earth that was lost in the mists of time. b) It celebrates a prosperous harvest. After a rain-drenched Karkidakam, Chingam is a month of prosperity, something to look forward to.
As children, we looked forward to Onam, because that was one of the two occasions on which we got new clothes - Onakkodi. The other was our birthday - not the date on the English calendar, but our pirannalu - piranna nalu - the day of our birth, according to the Hindu calendar. I remember wondering why my birthday changed every year. It was very hard to keep track of a moving birthday! As I grew older, however, I started looking forward to finding out just when my pirannalu would be. As my birth month came nearer, I would pore over the Mathrubhumi calendar in our kitchen, voicelessly mouthing the names of the months, until I got to Edavam. Then, laboriously, I would move my finger across the naalu printed under the dates - Ashwati, Bharani, Karthika, Rohini ... until I came to the date that had Thiruvonam printed under it. I would then circle it with a pen, and keep reminding amma that my birthday was coming. We never celebrated an 'English' birthday ever - I have no memories of birthday cakes and candles.
Today, when I celebrate my sons' birthdays on their actual date of birth, I have to smile to myself. I excuse myself saying that it is easier for me to keep track of their birthdays, when it does not move around so, and easier for them, because they know exactly when to look forward to cakes and presents. I wonder, though. Maybe it is fun to have a roving birthday. You never know when you are going to get presents!
Onam festivities traditionally start on the day of Atham - the Atha pookkalam (flower arrangement) is different from the arrangement on the other days. On Atham, the decoration is customarily square. A clay mound, depicting Mahabali is kept in the centre of a cowdung plastered area, and flowers are arranged in a square around it. The choice of blossoms, their colour, the leaves that are used to accentuate the whole, they all sing paeans to the talent of the woman who does the arrangement. Houses are cleaned, and the courtyard is swept, fresh pookkalam is laid out every morning - all culminates in the grand feast on Thiruvonam.
Our Onam breakfast used to consist of pazham nurukku (steamed, ripe Nenthran bananas), with freshly made quartered banana chips. There would also be sarkkara payasam from the Bhagavathi Kshetram near our house. The thirumeni who officiated at the temple made the most delicious nei payasam - after he retired, none of the priests who followed have been able to achieve the same taste. Today, nei payasam is always measured against a remembered taste.
In those days, the young men in the vicinity would come to our house dressed as tigers, to do the traditional Pulikkali. Amma used to say that when they were young, they used to have a swing hung up on a convenient tree branch, and Kaikottikkali was performed by the women. By the time, we came along, our house was strangely bereft of these traditions. I must enter a caveat here - I do not dance. I correct myself :-) I cannot dance. But I still feel sorry that these traditions weren't followed. This is how traditions die out - one cannot pass on what is not experienced!
We used to wait for lunch and the veritable feast that we knew would be there. Maybe it was in remembrance of feast past that I decided that this Onam had to be different. I normally make the Naalum koodiyathu - the four main dishes that are the staple of every Onam sadhya. This year, however, I felt like going the whole hog. So. my Onam menu looked like this:
Curds
Avial
Kurukku Kaalan
Olan
Erisseri
Mambazha Pulisseri
Pacha Kadumaanga
Sambar
Rasam
Inji Thairu
Pappadam
Chethu Maanga
Semiya Paayasam
I must say that with the exception of the Avial and the Olan, both of which became watery due to the excess water in the Kumbalanga, ( I am NOT a bad workman blaming his tools, but you do need to get the tender elavan for these dishes than the moothu naracha kumbalanga that I got from our neighbourhood Indian store!) the rest came out very well. I shall try and post the recipes over the next couple of days, along with photographs.
© 2008 Anuradha Warrier
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