Navrathri - my tradition

This post is by Kodi's Mom of Kodimeow Kronicles

Navrathri - always reminds me of....not the silk clad maamis, not vetthalai paaku, not sundal, not little girls parading the streets, not carnatic music...
....but my grandfather. Yes, Navrathri reminds me of my grandfather...my mother's father..my Aaja.

All the more this year, for we celebrated with only his memory, his spirit.

In what I consider the golden days of my childhood, when Aaja was a retired, "active adult", I would be quite amused to see how he always took Navrathri very seriously. It didn't bother him much that this was socially labeled as a 'ladies festival'. For him it was a way to showcase his energy, passion, creativity.

Left to my grandma, she might have kept a quick 3 padi kolu (a kolu with 3 steps), made a sundal, and focussed on the puja, the invites and invitees.

Left to my aunt, the daughter in law of the house, she might have done an even simplified version of the above, for that's all she had time for, with twin boys, a full time job and a long commute.

But with my grandfather, Kolu took a different glow in our house.

A week before navrathri started, he would start the prepartions. Preparations meant walking down to the garden (they lived on the top floor of a two storey), digging up soil, walking back up with that load, cleaning that area along the back wall of the hall to make room for a 9 padi kolu and a miniature park, spreading the soil in the far corner, sprinkling it with water, making even rows with the eraser end of a pencil, lining it with mustard seeds in a perfect row, then watering that spot and...waiting. You see, he was trying to create a lawn effect. A pulveLi.
Amidst the lush green would be a snapshot of some busy Chennai junction - Parry's Corner or GN Chetty Road were his favorites. There would be a fountain in the middle. Perfectly straight two lane roads, marked by white chalk or rangoli powder. Billboards along the corner. Large matchboxes painted as Kumaran Stores and Nalli. Plenty of cars.

I don't recall ever seeing the an idyllic green or the luxury of a fountain in parched, hot-beyond-words Madras of those days - but it was all there in the kolu in Aaja's house. A futuristic Chennai...with more cars than two wheelers.

Once the basic elements of the park was in place, he'd proceed to set up the nine steps for the kolu, drape with a dhoti, dust the dolls, set them up in perfect order, giving due importance to the Gods and Goddesses. A whole afternoon's work would be reflected in the kaLai of the kolu. (the look of grace, elegance)

The kolu would look its best on day 3 or 4. When the mustard seeds would have sprouted and grown evenly to a 1-2 inch height. When all the dolls had been adjusted twice or thrice for the right effect. That's when the Maamis would start to arrive and ooh and aah at the whole spectacle. My grandfather would receede to the background only to show his face to family friends, and would graciously refuse any compliments that were directed his way. Oh, I didn't do much, it was all her (he'd point to me, while all I might have done was bring him the chalk). But there was a twinkle in his eyes those times, a suppressed smile, it was happiness like that of a child...happiness that his effort had brought joy to the beholder, that the details he put in were noticed and appreciated.

This tradition repeated itself not just a stray year or two, but every single year till he could no longer keep up with the physical demands. One of the last few years, the local newspaper gave his kolu a prize for the best in town.

I have missed my grandfather all year. I think of him often, but I missed him most during Navrathri.

Because of the foundation he laid, to me, Navrathri is not just another festival, not just another one of those gazillion traditions every desi family has. The tradition that he passed down to me, consciously or unconsciously, was the enthusiasm and spirit. How you take something from your parent's generation, add your own flavor to it and carry it forward, while keeping the intent of the tradition intact.

The intent of this one is to welcome the Goddesses of wealth, education, courage to your home. To socialize with friends and family. To give. How you implemented it was upto you.

This was our implementation this year...



No Dasavatharm set, or Ashtalakshmis, no wedding setup, - but a Japanese doll, a Thai tea set, a Parisian Notre Dame, a Floridan Mickey Mouse, a Santa Claus - these are the flavors we added to it.

One of the challenges while setting this up was - my very naughty 2 year old's presence! We kept him away from it only during setup and dismantling...the rest of the time, we tried to include him in the festivities. For him, that meant playing with the dolls. So he was told that he could take off only one thing at a time but he had to be very careful. He listened some of the time, but overall, the 9 days passed without serious mishaps.

Next year, we intend to dedicate a spot that will be solely his - where he can set up a zoo or farm or whatever he wants.

Last Navrathri, Aaja saw pictures of our modest kolu and was pleased to see America-vil kolu (a kolu in America). What amused him more was that there were maamis here too who came for vethalai paakku. I wish he could have seen this year's too. And all the ones that the future holds for us.

Maybe he will.

On Traditions by IBH

(This is a guest post by IBH for Traditions– the theme for October)

I come from a family that is abounded with traditions and more traditions. With the festive season on, I would like to contribute my first ever post for DMC or for any group blogs.

*Every navaratri our Golu bommai display has had varied themes. Dad’s hobby of collecting bommais in his every business trips helped us in great deal with different themes. I should say, Appa takes keen interest in our golu arrangements.Appa comes up with the theme for that year and then start collecting the bommais accordingly. In the previous night of the day of arranging bommais, appa and amma takes out the bommai and start arranging according to the theme of the year. Of course, our usual bommais that are meant to be kept with the kalasam (pot with coconut) are arranged meticulously. The fun part though is the arranging of parks, waterfalls, groves (mango, coconut oh what not!) and such.Appa will make sure that it looks so real that our golu used to be the star attraction in our street.

* Tradition of not bursting crackers has been our tradition for so long that we have actually forgotten when we last burst crackers’, the reason being child labor and such .(I know there is always two types of argument to it but we stand by our tradition and its reasons)

*The tradition of wishing each other at 12 AM sharp for all functions, festivals, birthdays, anniversiaries and every occasion that calls for wishing each other. It continues till date and we have been wishing each other even when we live in different time zones and different spheres of earth.

*We always make maa-kolam for every function held at our place. My mom rocks at it and she creates the best maa-kolam ever.

*The best thing from my childhood that am missing right now is ‘Nila choru’ wherein all we cousins used to meet up at our grand father’s agraharam house and enjoy moonlit night dinner on the terrace. Our cook, Venkubhai paati used to make this scrumptious dinner of simple, vatha kuzhambu, rasam and ‘more’ sadam and feed us by making this big ‘urundai’ (ball of food) and go in rounds to put those urundais in our hands. The best part is the last bit of ‘aanai katti’ sadam that all we cousins used to fight for.Not sure if Kaju will get to enjoy the last tradition listed but I am making sure that she is going to continue the other traditions ( trivial but yet powerful in our family) and pass it on to her family.

Ma Durga... Come again the next year

Kucho nimki, narkol naru, malpua, mansher ghughni, keemar shingara, mishti r thalaa, dhok dhok pronaam aar kolakuli.... the childhood memories of Bijoya are too vivid, more so gastronomically.

Days have changed, so my son, who is at least 98% clued on Bong was surprised to find, kucho nimkis are manufacturable in Mom's kitchen as well beside the Chittoranjan Park Sweet shops in Delhi.

So this time, while I prepared to embrace and entertain a large group of family, Mr D prepared for his France visit for an unavoidable workshop. Little sonny R, upset with his Dad's funny tour plans was trying to find solace in visiting paternal Grandparents from Kolkata.

Saptami was chaotic. My Mamashoshur( Husband's Mama) and family had planned a surprise for his sister.... they were visiting us. So even though I prepared a pick up for them from railway station, my in laws were completely in the dark. Even my ten year old son was party to the conspiracy. Chaos bloomed post lunch, I had to leave for an emergency client meeting, my guests could not find the car sent for the pick up, neither could the driver find the guest..... AMAZING. I retraced 45 km to pick them up after reaching back.... and the family chat continued till wee hours of 2am.

Ashtami colourful as usual.... other than me struggling to keep a backup khichuri and accompaniments ready in case we miss the bhog at the pandal. On puja days in Gurgaon pandals, since we always end up behind 1000 at least, a backup plan is an absolute must. Afternoon, in true Bong way, we stuffed ourselves in a hired Toyota Innova and struggled our way through the terrible highway traffic to reach New Delhi Kali bari. Long travel, fights on right AC cooling, and finally we end up standing behind serpentine cues for a glimpse of the Goddess and the happening arati. Thousands were already sitting on the huge mandir courtyard waiting for Kumar Shanu to begin his performance. Terrified of the crowd, and asphyxation we finally plunge out and breathe well before locating a chaatwallah. Soft and crispy aalu chaat and spicy churmur we all had to our heart's content before reaching airport to pick up Mr D.

Navami we packed fast and quick and once again stuffed ourselves in two cars and left for a Jaipur Ajmer Pushkar trip. The days passed off in a whizzzzz.... and on Monday 3 am we came back home, almost crawling back.

House is still full, 24 hours, we are chirping and laughing with family, a rare incident compared to me and little sonny R walking back slowly,into an empty apartment, loaded with school bag, creche bag, Kumon hamper, laptop, a huge loaded purse and an equally cumbrous food tote bag....and getting prepared for the next day.

Me and little sonny R are not seeing eye to eye fearing the magic would go off and once more we would get slotted into the routine life.

The Sheer Khurma Competition

[ This post is written by mummyjaan ]

When Tharini put up October's great theme, I was reminded of countless family traditions which I saw while growing up. Being Ramadhan last month, I recalled many traditions associated with Ramadhan and Eid - I remembered my first fast, the first fast away from home, first Ramadhan with hubby, then with the children.

I also recounted several Eids spent in India and elsewhere in my nomadic life; I believe I have celebrated Eid in at least 10 different cities in the world. One of those Eids was spent in my in-laws' house, the year that I got married.

It was there that I came across the fun 'family tradition' I want to share with you - my father-in-law's "Sheer Khurma Competition", as I will call it.

Sheer khurma is a traditional sweet made in many households on Eid ul Fitr ("Ramzan Eid"). It's also called 'Seviyan'. Sheer is Persian for 'milk' and khurma means 'dates', again in Persian. (The word is distinct from 'korma' which is a kind of spiced curry, although we have often ended up pronouncing the two the same). I do not know how or where the sweet originated, or when the vermicelli became an important ingredient, but dates and milk must certainly have been the primary ingredients.

There are as many variations of it as cooks. From the vermicelli you use, the combination of dry fruits you put in, the amount of ghee you use (minimal or generous - I use sunflower oil!), to the kind of milk you use, whether you add cream, whether it's dripping with sugar or just has a hint of sweet in it, etc. Everyone seems to come up with a slightly different flavour. And of course, people can get as individual as they like with decorations.

This dessert - the sheer khurma - is traditionally the first thing eaten on Eid mornings. Symbolically, you 'break' the month-long fast on Eid day with milk and dates. Sheer khurma is prepared early, before the family goes out for the Eid prayer (usually just after sunrise - but varies a lot in Hyderabad in different venues). Once you get back - very hungry - from the Eid ki namaz, it's time for hearty biryani in some households (my in-laws), or the lighter chicken vermicelli ('murgh sevi') in others (my mum's house).

I won't dwell on the Eid celebrations, the decorations, the finery, the mehendi ,the "Eidis" (gifts) which all children look forward to excitedly. Or the Eid prayer, which is the heart of Eid. All of those are integral parts of the day, of course.

Once everyone is back home and has had breakfast, a steady stream of visitors descends onto my in-laws' house. Being the oldest in a large clan, my MIL's house is always a centre of activity. I call it the "Family headquarters".

My sasurji, after meeting the first few visitors, sets out to individually visit every one of his children's homes. All 8 homes of his daughters and daughters-in-law. The point of the visit is of course, to visit his children on the festival. But the fun part is when he samples each and every one's cooking and at the end of the day, declares one winner - the maker of the best sheer khurma. (He just 'samples' the food - being very careful about his diet and health).

This 'competition' has become something to look forward to.....

All my 'jethani's (husband's brothers' wives) and 'nands' vie to produce the best dessert. I spent one Eid with them in India, before moving to Ireland. As I was the bride and the youngest DIL, I wasn't expected to cook (did you hear that, girls??? I didn't cook in my in-laws' house for a year, and when I go back on vacation, I'm the 'guest' so I still don't). Anyway, I had the occasion to sample all their cooking (hubby and I went with him), and at the end of the day, the 'winner' was my 2nd eldest 'jethaniji', a superb cook. (Winner 3 years running).

I joked that my FIL had acted impartially - having picked a bahu over his 6 betis. I was new in the house and naive. As time passed, I came to know that in this family, at least, there isn't much difference between the bahus and the betis. Which is something truly wonderful. As far as he is concerned, they're all his betis.

The "competition" is an excuse. The actual Eid tradition that Abba is carrying on is visiting the daughters' homes and making them feel special. It does make everyone feel special when "Nana-hazrat" (or "Dada") shows up at the door. The children excitedly look forward to Nana's Eidis. We cherish the time when he puts his affectionate, benevolent hand on our heads and gives us his dua's (prayers).

My first and only Eid in my sasural was a memorable one. I look forward to the day when I will relocate to India again - I don't know when that will be, but I hope 'Abba' is healthy enough to visit my home, when I present him with my cooking. I know I would have a slim chance of winning, but more than that, I look forward to his tender hand on my head, blessing me, my husband and my children, praying for our health and long life, our success and happiness, in this world and the next. Inshallah.

The vadaam tradition

This write-up is for Tharini's theme on traditions this month at DMC. With the festival season in swing now with navarathri under way, I first wanted to do a post on Navarathri and Deepavali, but I changed my mind and I am going to do this post on a slightly different topic – the ‘vadakam/vathal’ (rice crispies) preparing tradition. I don’t know if this officially qualifies as a tradition but this has been something in which everyone in our family were involved in and we enjoyed every bit of it. For people who are not aware of vadakams (vadaams as I call it) – they are deep fried crispies made out of rice flour or sago and have a gorgeous, melt-in-your-mouth taste and they are excellent side dishes with traditional South Indian rice items like lemon rice or puliyodharai. It is also an excellent snack, not very healthy though ;) and it comes second only to pakoda to be enjoyed on a rainy day with a cup of tea. Usually the vadaam season starts in late April or early May before Agni Nakshatram (the time when temperatures peak during the summer). My Paati (Paternal Grand Mom) initiates the preparations and all the ingredients needed like Javvarisi (sago/sabudhana), green chillies, lemon would be purchased and ticked off the list. The veshti (dhoti) on which the vadaams are laid on, are washed thoroughly and dried. My Grand mom used to prepare several different kinds of vadakam – thenkuzhal vadakam, javvarisi vadakam, koozh vadakam are the usual stuff. Sometimes the more exotic varieties like vengaya vadaam (onion vadaam)also feature on the menu.

Before the day vadaams are prepared, Paati instructs me to go to the milling machine near our house and grind the soaked and dried up rice according to the vadaam requirement. She would find a teeny weeny piece of paper, she didn’t like wastage :) and write down in tiny hand writing the exact way in which the flour should be ground. The lady at the mill was very respectful and affectionate towards Paati and she would follow Paati’s instructions very religiously and grind the rice flour exactly like Paati wants. On that day, everyone is usually awake at the crack of dawn and she prepares the dough for the vadaams. Each vadaam requires a different proportion of ingredients and cooking time. I find the vadaam dough absolutely delicious (even better than the vadaam itself) and would eat some when Paati or Amma are not looking :) Paaati prepares all the dough patiently and everyone is ready to go to the terrace at our home by 5 ‘o’ clock in the morning. There the dhotis are laid down and stones are placed in the corners to prevent it from flying. Then the prepared dough is put into thenkuzhal achu (mould) and would be pressed onto the dhoti in neat rows. If it is koozh vadaam then we would just take it in a ladle and pour it in a oval shape on the dhoti. I, my sister and my Mom would press the vadaam onto the dhoti while Paati would supervise. We would place a black umbrella nearby to scare away the crows that come to eat the vadaam. It would take a good two hours before all the dough is finished and laid out in neat rows on the dhoti and the sun would have risen by then. There the vadaams would lie, on our terrace drying up in the sun all day. In the evening we would bring it back and then dry the vadaams a few more times until it is nice and crisp. Of course the best part is eating puliyodharai with the deep fried newly prepared vadaams. Every year we used to look forward to this vadaam tradition though I haven’t done it here in Portland. So vadaam is kind of a rare commodity here and I always ask my Mom or In laws to pack some vadaams when they visit here. Not too bad if I indulge once in a while isn't it?
And here is a picture of the yummy vadaams! The last few pieces left in my stock actually.

Traditions

What a lovely theme as we begin the festive season. It's interesting that each and every family has its own traditions and rituals, quite apart from social traditions, that we adopt, and over time these play such an important role in knitting the familt unit together. Some of the traditions are so strange, at times, that only the family will ever understand the in-joke!

We're not a very traditional family ( tradition in the social/ religious sense) - by family I mean me, my husband and our two kids - because my husband and I are from opposite corners of India - I'm South Indian, he's from the North, I'm Hindu, he is Muslim. My parents are extremely traditional, and you will hear the lovely strains of Sanskrit shlokas being chanted every morning as each of them does their puje, and the food is by and large typically traditional Kannadiga/ Mysore food too. Each festival has some set things in the puje, and on the menu. For Gowri Habba, we used to make little Gowri figurines out of turmeric, and always buy a Goowri and Ganesha idol made of clay from Bangalore. My mother decorates the Gowri idol beautifully and till date has kept up the tradition of calling friends and neighbours over for Arshna-Kumkuma ( haldi-kumkum) in the evening on those two days. Guests are always served Shundal in little leaf-cups. My father, if he happens to travel South before the festival, always gets beautiful flower strings - Mallige, sampige, kanakaambra - which are also given away to the guests. Ganesha Chathurthi always meant Karjikaayi and Diwali usually means Holige of some kind. On birthdays, my mom always made a festive meal, complete with the birthday person's favourite kheer.

One of the traditions my parents started was that of Christmas. We always used to have a christmas tree at home, sometimes even one just made out of paper and pasted onto a wall. My folks would play Jim Reeves' carols all day. On Christmas eve, dad would sneak a present under our pillows. That's a tradition we continue in our home too. I decorate a Norfolk Pine tree, which has nice weight-bearing branches, with lovely Kashmiri papier mache decorations and we play carols at home. I try and bake cookies, or at least bring home a fruit cake. We usually have a festive Christmas meal, which is as continental as I can make it, with Red pepper soup, Potatoes Dauphinoise, a quiche or vegetable pie, salad and the cake, of course. And presents - but of course!

Another tradition my parents started when we lived in Bangalore was that of Beladingalu Oota - Dinner by moonlight. On full moon nights, my mother would set our food out on the floor of the enormous balcony of our house in Bangalore. We would eat only by the light of the moon, enjoying the strange, pale light and the unusual flavour it added to the food. That's something I plan to start as soon as my daughter turns three.

One of the most beautiful rituals we have is that a baby's first outing, apart from doctor's visits, has to be to a place of worship. Of course with our mixed up household, we went the whole hog. First we took our kids to the Baha'i Temple, as being a neutral place, then a mosque, a gurdwara and then a temple!

We have started a tradition of having an open house party midway between Id and Diwali. We call all our friends and colleagues - with the caveat that the colleagues have to be friends, not just co-workers - and we have a menu which is kind of set by now. We cater in the Biryani and kebabs from one particular place called Matka Pir in Delhi. I usually make a spiced rice dish for the vegetarians. And one dish that all our guests remember year upon year and pre-request just in case I had plans of turning lazy that year is Badaam Halwa. it's quite a painstaking dish to make, and last year, since I was back at work full time with a 4 month old baby in tow, it took me a full week to make it. All our friends look forward to this party, since it is one place they know they'll meet everybody, and our guest list keeps growing. Last year we counted 94 people before we gave up! We love hosting this year after year, even though we're dog tired by the end of it, because with today's crazy schedules, that's the only time we can count on seeing all our friends.