Just as the rains meant kites in the skies and swings from trees in an otherwise citified childhood, there was The Pooja, in our otherwise low-religious fanfare family!
The hype would start days, nay weeks, ahead. The family silver would be brought out from the soft folds of old cotton sarees amidst loud exclamations of how black it appeared. We would all set at work washing the silver and the brass with Vim and tamarind, dousing with brasso, rubbing in the vibhuti and rubbing revertially with the softest of cloths and then wondering at the beauty of each piece anew.
While we kids would try and experiment with shades of shringar bindi to decorate the idol's face, we would be chided by our grandma who would insist that her goddess looked perfect just freshly scrubbed (as she claimed her grand daughters did too!) She tried to instill a pride and a deep association between her godess's idol and er grand-daughters. At times the cousins would be there. Else it was just us, but fancy celebrations nonetheless.
What a lot it was which kept us busy till so late the previous night! The flowers, fruits, agarbatties, camphor, wicks, vastram, kalasham, sandal to be rubbed out of a log (not powder out of a bottle). The decorations at the doorstep and within, the tying of the toranas, the transformation of our sanitised aseptic house to a festive post to receive the Divine Devi, the bestower of wishes, Vara Lakshmi.
Grandma would insist on cooking all manner of exotic dishes to pamper herself (I think) as much as to pamper us, who were easily pleased with simpler fare. It obviously had tremendous memories and associations for her because she would inexplicably smile and hum just as she would scowl and scold! The pooja done (which she did not participate in, being a widow) and the naivedyam offered, she would relax a bit and finally sing an invocation, which in her excited but tired voice would often sound like a sad dirge.
Evening all manner of women and girls would have to be invited for the customary haldi kumkuma. And this was a tricky part. My sister would have definite likes dislikes and would specify who was to be invited and who was to be excludd. This would result in a battle of wills between mom and her and at times grandma too, with little me as a go between!
The celebration would be repeated year after year, unvarying in its pattern and pomp. Then my brother got married and his wife soon got assimiliated into this annual ritual. After my marriage, I too kept up with this with my mother-in-law. She too would cook elaborate meals outsourcing all the decorative stuff to me. Till a recent long hiatus. Now my f-i-l has passed on and m-i-l is a widow living in a different city far from me. These poojas are so NOT you, I am told by some friends who wonder how I could particiapate in rituals which may not hold much relevance and significance for me.
Yet I have the idol's face m-i-l bestowed on me and children who need a legacy from me. The link continues.
The hype would start days, nay weeks, ahead. The family silver would be brought out from the soft folds of old cotton sarees amidst loud exclamations of how black it appeared. We would all set at work washing the silver and the brass with Vim and tamarind, dousing with brasso, rubbing in the vibhuti and rubbing revertially with the softest of cloths and then wondering at the beauty of each piece anew.
While we kids would try and experiment with shades of shringar bindi to decorate the idol's face, we would be chided by our grandma who would insist that her goddess looked perfect just freshly scrubbed (as she claimed her grand daughters did too!) She tried to instill a pride and a deep association between her godess's idol and er grand-daughters. At times the cousins would be there. Else it was just us, but fancy celebrations nonetheless.
What a lot it was which kept us busy till so late the previous night! The flowers, fruits, agarbatties, camphor, wicks, vastram, kalasham, sandal to be rubbed out of a log (not powder out of a bottle). The decorations at the doorstep and within, the tying of the toranas, the transformation of our sanitised aseptic house to a festive post to receive the Divine Devi, the bestower of wishes, Vara Lakshmi.
Grandma would insist on cooking all manner of exotic dishes to pamper herself (I think) as much as to pamper us, who were easily pleased with simpler fare. It obviously had tremendous memories and associations for her because she would inexplicably smile and hum just as she would scowl and scold! The pooja done (which she did not participate in, being a widow) and the naivedyam offered, she would relax a bit and finally sing an invocation, which in her excited but tired voice would often sound like a sad dirge.
Evening all manner of women and girls would have to be invited for the customary haldi kumkuma. And this was a tricky part. My sister would have definite likes dislikes and would specify who was to be invited and who was to be excludd. This would result in a battle of wills between mom and her and at times grandma too, with little me as a go between!
The celebration would be repeated year after year, unvarying in its pattern and pomp. Then my brother got married and his wife soon got assimiliated into this annual ritual. After my marriage, I too kept up with this with my mother-in-law. She too would cook elaborate meals outsourcing all the decorative stuff to me. Till a recent long hiatus. Now my f-i-l has passed on and m-i-l is a widow living in a different city far from me. These poojas are so NOT you, I am told by some friends who wonder how I could particiapate in rituals which may not hold much relevance and significance for me.
Yet I have the idol's face m-i-l bestowed on me and children who need a legacy from me. The link continues.
15 comments:
Joyful one,Shankari..
And hey..Me thirsty about such celebrations...haha
And my hearty wishes on Varamahalakshmi habba!
--Gangadhar
A joyous Sravana Habba, it was!
In fact my son started the clamour for a pooja by going around talking of VarmaLakshmi, (which is the short form of Vara Maha Laksmi), in these parts!:D
Great shankari. it is really v. sweet of you to take time apart from yor hectic professional schedule to continue with our traditions.
I really feel that children should have our traditional legacy along with the modern ways of living. I am glad to see that your children are getting a combination of both.
Shankari,
Glad that you are passing on the legacy. The decorating of Varalakshmi, the eager wait for the kozhukkattais (or other sweet delicacies) - and the festive atmosphere makes for warm memories. More than the religious part, its creating these memories that's important to me.
Priya.
Hey Chitra, Priya, wish we could have gathered round and gossiped over spicy sundal, wotsay? ;)
welcoming! Courier the sundals across
and gossip over the phone
What a wonderfully written post -- though I am (as always) ignorant of the specific celebration, I love the images you create with your words.
reminded me of my childhood, thank yu :-)
Becky,
Welcome you are to peek into the celebration! As for the words, high praise for one who ain't taking your course! :D
Ende,
Aren't you still a child da? I hope I am! :p
its all in the mind .. I say.. you dont need to look it to feel it.. .
Got pretty homesick for it all on the 4th, when I went to the temple to join in the pooja.....reading your post took me back a week to the same feeling of homesickness!!
Meena
Lovely post! For me too, Varalakshmi Vratam is very important---it is the only pooja I do in the entire year. It is definitely a tradition to be passed on to the younger ones, in any form, and with whatever modifications.I feel it is not only the pooja per se that is done with devotion, but the entire preparations--the decorations, the cooking of the prasadam, everything is a manifestation of our devotion.
Pallavi,
:) @ the look!
Meena,
Hey glad to be a link to home (even if it ends in home sickness!)
lak,
Thanks for liking the post and relating to it. Yes, the form of the decoration, cooking and all, is as much a part of the legacy as the pooja.
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