My First Deepavali

Many Deepavali days have come and gone in my life, but the first, best, and most memorable one was the one I enjoyed at my grandmother’s place. The festival of lights is celebrated with a lot of excitement and fervour. The good conquering evil and light conquering the darkness is celebrated with joy in our country. Men and women of all ages enjoy the festival. The children, in particular, enjoy the most. It is the biggest event in the Hindu calendar, and it commemorates Lord Krishna’s consort Satyabhama slaying the demon Narakasura.

 In Tamil Nadu, this day is celebrated as the Deepavali, where as in the North, the next day is celebrated as Diwali. In the South, elders and children wear new clothes; people exchange sweets, visit temples and relatives. Bursting crackers is the highlight of the day. Bursting crackers indicate the element of fire, which purifies the sins of the past. In the North, it is celebrated with lights remembering the return of Lord Rama with Sita to his empire. Southerners celebrate the festival of lights on a different day and not on Deepavali.

My father was a Hindu by birth but got converted to Christianity when he married my mother. My grandmother, my dad’s three sisters and one brother followed Hinduism and celebrated Deepavali with dedication and joy. We lived in a small town by name Palayamkottai, and my grandmother was living in a small village near Cape Comorin. The name of the village is Thamaraikulam, which meant ‘lotus pond’ in Tamil.

The village is around seventy kilometres from my place, Palayamkottai. My grandmother was living with her eldest daughter (my aunt), her husband and five children. The other two daughters and sons were married and settled in nearby towns. They visit my grandmother on Deepavali and Pongal. During childhood, I was allowed to go to their place to celebrate the festival Deepavali.

We lived in a colony which had about fourteen homes, and all of them were Christians. I had lots of friends in the colony, and they envied me for getting a chance to celebrate the festival. Going out of town I used to feel as if I was going on a foreign tour. I used to feel very proud to carry my small airbag packed with clothes for few days in front of my friends.

My father would accompany me, and all my friends would come up the gate of our colony to bid farewell. My mother and sisters being staunch Christians didn’t like celebrating the festival. I used to feel as if I was on cloud nine! My father used to accompany me until my seventh standard. After that, I used to go on my own.

Usually, we go up to a big town called Nagercoil. From there, we used to catch a bus to Tamaraikulam. The village is just eight kilometres north of the southernmost part of India, Cape Comorin. These towns and villages once belonged to the old Travancore state till 1956. In fact, my father studied in a school that followed Malayalam medium of instruction.

One famous landmark that comes on the way from Palayamkottai to Nagercoil is the Ariyankavu pass. The pass is located on the Western Ghats, and the wind flow through this pass is sensational. Lots of wind turbines have been erected in the region now for generation of electricity. In those days, when you cross the pass, you could sense the flow of cool winds from the Western Ghats, and it used to be a very pleasant experience. This was more so and stronger when the south-west monsoon sets in, from end May until the end of July. I used to feel the cool winds blowing in May whenever I visited my grandma’s place during my summer holidays.

The festival season used to be in October or November. When you enter the border of my ancestral village, you can see the greenery which used to be a visual treat. The coconut trees, green paddy fields, small rivers flowing along the road and plenty of ponds with lotus flowers blooming. It gives you a feeling as if you were travelling in God’s own country - Kerala. Today, unfortunately, we have lost most of the water bodies due to global warming, and lots of buildings came up replacing the greenery. It brings tears to my eyes when I travel the same route today.

My grandfather had a house of his own and few acres of paddy field. A small river by name Pazhayar gently flowed across the western border of the village. The river reaches the sea at a place called Manakudi. Whenever I went for my festival holidays the most enjoyable part was swimming in the river every day morning and sometime in the evening if my grandma permitted.

My cousins and I used to have great fun jumping from a small ‘padithurai’(meaning few steps constructed with cement or stone for people to get inside the water) and playing games, chasing each other. This went on for at least one hour, and then we left for breakfast. At that age, we could swallow ten big ‘idlies’ within no time, but we were allowed only six. We got one ‘rasavada’. This ‘vada’ is made of chana dal and soaked in ‘rasam’ overnight. This is eaten with hot idlis, fresh coconut chutney and chilli powder with oil. Even my mother cannot make such soft idlis. The rasavada is the most popular dish in this part of our country. Then she got very busy preparing for the festival next day.

Meanwhile, she made fish curry for lunch. The way my grandmother bought fish was an art to admire. The coast, Manakudi is just eight kilometres away, and we used to get fresh catch of sardines. The women from the coast preserve the fish with sand so that it is kept for longer periods. However, this technique is only effective for a shorter time. For longer periods, one had to use ice cubes.

Grandma used to haggle for fish, twenty to twenty-five pieces for one rupee. Those women vendors regularly bring in fresh catch to the village. Being fresh, and without ice, one can guarantee that the taste will be very good compared to the frozen fish served in big towns. Her recipe was unique, and I swear I could never taste any fish curry like that ever in my life.

There is an old joke that Kerala people cannot make a curry without coconut. My grandma used to cook with coconut, tamarind/mango, chilli, and coriander seeds, among few other main ingredients. My aunt used to grind it on the stone grinder by hand and made a paste. I would include this as one of the old recipes lost in the passage of time.

There is a thin layer of difference between Kerala and Tamil fish curry. This one is a perfect mix for a half Malayali and a half Tamilian like me. Only people like me can appreciate the real taste of the curry. Grandmother put the cleaned fish when the curry mix came to boil. With just two pieces of fish each, there used to a big fight amongst us for the nut of the mango.

Unlike today, mangos were not available around the year. In those days, we used to get mangos only during mango season, normally in April, May and June. In other months she used tamarind and tomatoes as substitutes. I used to eat three times the quantity of rice with fish curry compared to normal curry.

The layout of our ancestral house:

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All of us would then enjoy in the small garden in front of our ancestral house. The land is L shaped with one opening leading to the main road and the other one to another small road. In the main road was a primary school in which my father studied till the fifth standard. My granny used to say, during the morning break, my father used to come and drink his mother’s feed.

I still wonder how my granny could have fed mother’s milk till her children got to the age of five or six. Nowadays mothers find it difficult to feed even for five months. Later on, she said that it was because they took a lot of dry fish during their feeding years, which helped them to have milk overflowing.

We used to have a monkey in a cage, a small flower garden consisting of white jasmine, and few other nice flowers. It used to be the attraction and brought pleasant fragrance in the mornings. The house consisted of a small open veranda on both sides of the front door with sitting arrangement for two people.

In the morning, my aunt or grandmother swept the floor, sprinkled water and drew ‘kolam’ with rice powder. They made drawings of flowers and other shapes. The scientific reason behind this was that the insects entering the house would eat the rice powder and go away. This meant harmful insects are avoided entering the house. Pest control starts in these simple ways, unlike our modern days.

Once you enter the house, there was a big hall with a wooden storage bin fixed to the floor in one corner, which my grandmother calls ‘pathayam’. It was used as a bed. They used to store a lot of usable items inside that bin. My granny used to say, when my grandfather was alive, he used to store arrack bottles inside that. His old whip was also there, and he used it once in a while to beat his monkey and granny. All the kids slept in that room including my cousin brothers, the only cousin sister, and me. Uncle used to sleep on the bed made in the Pathyam.

We played so much during the day that we slept the moment we hit the bed. I used to roll too much and kicked the hell out of my cousin brothers. One of my cousin brothers had the habit of running his fingers through the hair of the person sleeping next to him, strange, but true. I avoided sleeping next to him. In the morning we used to be literally kicked out of the bed by granny.

From the hallway, one door led to a kitchen on the left side and the dining place on the right. In between, the alleyway led to the last room. The room was followed by a door that led to the cowshed, kitchen garden and one more entrance to the small road. That entrance lead to another house on the opposite side, where one of my father’s friends ‘GopalMama’ lived. His two sons and three daughters were very friendly to me. Even now, we are very close and fond of each other.

My uncle was a milk vendor, and he started his day as early as 4 am. He cycled down almost 12 km to his workplace. There were no milk packets those days. He supplied with the measure and finished his day at around 8pm; whenever he came home; he used to give me 5paise with great passion and love. He and my aunt were very special till their last breath. I still miss them and couldn’t find that kind of passion, affinity and love amongst the younger generations of today’s fast world.

Few days before Deepavali granny made the paste for a special sweet called ‘athirasm’ made of raw rice and jaggery. She would cover it with a cloth and tied it up with thread. On the morning of Deepavali, she will deep fry the paste after making small, round, flat pieces. We quietly untied the thread and opened the cloth to dig out the paste with a spoon and ate it. The paste was delicious even before frying.

On Deepavali morning, granny kicked us out of bed by 4:30 am and prepared us for oil bath. She vigorously kneaded oil on my head and face. Once the oil bath was over, you felt rejuvenated and fresh. She prepared hot idlis, vada, sweet pongal and athirasm etc. She guarded the freshly made sweets and savouries against the predators like us very carefully. It was basically because it should not be eaten before placing it to God.

There was a small puja room. All of us stood in front of it in circles wearing new clothes. My aunt conducted the puja. She kept dhoti and sari for our ancestors. On one such occasion, while performing puja, she got possessed and warned me that my father was not paying tributes to his mother.

We then entered the small room one by one and aunt put the white smear of veboothi (ash) on our forehead. My uncle gave us crackers and ‘four Annas’(twenty-five paisa). After that, it was all fun eating ten or more idlis with vadas and athirasams.

Next major event was bursting crackers. We bought toy guns, roll caps for ammunition and shot at our friends. After that we started with big crackers called elephant crackers, Lakshmi vedi, atom bomb, etc. We saved the crackers which emitted flares for the night. All those things were fun and frolic until lunch was prepared.

Granny and my aunts, like a robots, cooked the sumptuous food for us. The famous red rice delicacy of Kerala, sambar, mixed vegetable aviyal,poriyal,kootu,papad and more. The sweet pongal was served on completion. All items were served on fresh banana leaves from her kitchen garden. The afternoon session of play started after lunch. My uncle usually had some arrack before lunch and was on high spirits, joking and enjoying with us.

After lunch, granny and uncle used to have betel with tobacco and nuts. In the evening after dark, the cracker session resumed, and we blew up money and polluted the environment. In those days, it was in small scale. But now, it is on a very large scale. A day will come soon that we have to impose a ban on crackers for the sake of saving mother earth mainly the crackers imported from China.

At dinner granny used to serve the same food prepared for lunch. The leftover vadas would be soaked overnight in rasam, to be served for the next day’s breakfast. The next day was boring, though we children got up late. It used to be like the Monday morning for an office goer, boring and dragging, compared to the fast and fun-filled previous day. The day progressed very slowly with a sad reminder that my short holiday was coming to an end.

I had to prepare my luggage and get ready to move back to my town. Traditionally during Deepavali, they released new movies of local superstars. Two famous actors of Tamil cinema during that period were Mr. M.G. Ramachandran known as MGR, and his contemporary rival Mr.SivajiGanesan called Sivaji. That year, a famous MGR movie was released in a nearby town. The theatres were called ‘Tent Kottai’ meaning ‘thatched roof, and the floor was filled with sand.

There was a partition in the centre. Normally the left portion was reserved for the ladies and the right portion for gents. The tickets used to be 21 paise. It used to be great fun watching movies. In the initial scene when the hero appeared on the screen, the fans jumped up and down. They applauded, whistled and threw small papers on the screen. To get additional height, we collected sand and made a small heap and sat on that. Sometimes, the person behind you felt disturbed. They would slowly remove the sand heap, and you will find yourself going down like the modern day adjustable chairs.

I used to smoke ‘beedies’ or cigarette sometimes. We never carried a match box for fear of getting caught in the house. While watching the movie, I took my cigarette out in the dark and asked for a light from my neighbour. When he offered the light, I found, to my shock, that he was a leper and quickly said no with thanks. Such strange things happened in those small cinema halls.

Time had come to bid farewell to my beloved granny. The feeling was similar to that of a batsman returning to the pavilion after getting out in a game of cricket, with a long face and a long walk. Nevertheless, on the day of return, my granny packed up sweets and savouries made for Deepavali. She stuffed it in my small little bag with loads of love and affection for my parents and my two sisters.

My uncle took me on his bicycle early in the morning when he went for work. It used to be great fun sitting behind him, watching the beauty of nature in the early hours. On the way, there was a famous temple for Lord Vishnu, and he stopped there. We worshipped the lord for a while and then had a hot cup of coffee and continued. By around 5 am, he dropped me at the bus stop. My uncle bought a ticket and instructed the bus conductor to drop me at my hometown safely. He kept reminding me that I should write a letter as soon I reached my home safely. That was the end of a most memorable festival holiday.

Here, I must mention that something like telepathy happened to me three years back. My granny, uncle and eldest aunt I mentioned in the story are no more. My second aunt who was as passionate as the elder one had not been keeping well for some time. My inner instinct told me I must visit her. So in November 2017, I went and stayed with her for almost a week.

Normally I used to stay in a hotel because of the lack of amenities like western toilet, and air conditioning. But this time, I decided to stay with my aunt, and she cooked all my favourite foods which my grandmother used to cook. She was struggling and found it hard to stand for a long time as she had heart ailment and breathing problems.

After I returned, on December 24<sup>th</sup>2017 around 10:30 pm my aunt became seriously ill. Before she passed away at around 11pm, she told her husband and son that nobody should cry till 12:00-midnight, as Jesus would be born. Only after his birth, anybody in the family could cry if they wished to. Being a staunch Hindu, she had so much consideration for Christianity, just because her brother (my father) and I followed the Christian religion. She left a message for all of us to follow. God didn’t draw up religious barriers to separate us from each other, man did. I attended her 16<sup>th</sup>-day ritual and performed all formalities done by the Brahmin on the river bank. I also went to Rameswaram and completed all the rituals for her soul to reach heaven.

Recently, I watched a Movie on YouTube by the name “Happiness”. Some of the top psychiatrists analysed few human models and declared the following.

“Money can account for just 10% of happiness and 40% happiness comes from living with people who like you and those whom you like. Another 40% comes from doing what you want to do. The rest of 10% do not have an answer.”

How true is this? Once I got a good job in my life, I amassed wealth but never got the happiness that I got from the meagre 5paise given by my uncle. That is because I was passionately attached to him and he reciprocated the same passion with the same measure. Even though my mother and sisters objected me in celebrating a Hindu festival, I did what I wanted to do.

 But now, reaching the age of sweet sixty, all the money just could not get the immense pleasure which I had forty five years ago. But I am doing what I want to do. In fact, I handed my company over to my wife after running it successfully for 8 years, went on to teach at a marine institute, become a writer and now doing a course for script writer, directing a short movie.

MY FATHER AND HIS SIBLINGS ARE HINDUS AND I LEARNED BHAVADGEETA FROM THEM.

MY MOTHER A CONVERTED ROMAN CATHOLIC AND  I LEARNED BIBLE AND GOOD CONDUCT FROM HER AND HER ELDER SISTER {she is 97 years old and living in Tamil Nadu}

MY FATHER’s BEST FRIEND WAS A MUSLIM {Owner of the famous BUHARI group of hotels in Chennai} I LEARNED KORAN FROM HIM

Can any of my relatives reading the book invite me for a passionate Deepavali in and around Kanyakumari district? I am looking forward to it with great desire and deep passion. The sad part is my relatives are fighting for our ancestral home where once my grandmother lived.