Pongalo Pongal - part two: Grand Pongal day!

Well I am knackered and too tired to wake up anyway. It’s around 8 in the morning in Kanchi. The morning is still young and Sun has not gone stronger yet and I was still having a lie in with my cousins and few uncles on the terrace yard, where we slept last night after a protracted and an intense game of Thaaya Parisu (Sadhurangam) with the house hold folks.

The lovely scent of early morning dew on my nostrils and the dampness on the bed sheets was so soothing and cozy and I almost forgotten that it’s the fourth day of Pongal celebrations (called Kaanum Pongal or sight-seeing Pongal), and our third day here in Kanchi; and sooner we have to leave; feel low, want to stay longer; well I am lazy and knackered, unlike the ladies of the household, cooking yet for millions and minions, incessantly without any grudge. Well, I could already smell the spicy chicken and mutton gravy or kuzhambu on the breakfast menu served traditionally with Idli’s and Pooris, at the back yard of our huge and a long ancestral house in Kanchi, with all us youngsters queuing to hog as much as possible in few moments.

The last couple of days have been fun; nothing but fun; albeit been hectic; intense; emotional; joyous roller coaster ride; with lots of food, laughter, stories, bonding, shopping and what not!

Appa spent some time in our corner shop on the Pongal morning, selling whatever we wanted, before we grew impatient  and started pestering him to close the shop asap, so that we could get on with the plan. The order from Kanchi according to Amma from Naina on a mail (inland letter) was to start early and reach Kanchi before 1’O’ clock in the noon, in time for prayers; when the gathering would be ready with all offerings or padaiyals for the sun God and our ancestors.

As suspected Appa made a mess of my and our plan of arriving in Kanchi on Bhogi day itself; well, he didn’t come with one until Pongal day morning possibly restricted by his finances; hence after a brief stint at our place performing a minor version of prayers, our epic journey to Kanchi began with a small trip by a cycle rickshaw to drop us off at the major bus interchange besides the famous Madras high court. Appa and Anna (my brother) had already left to catch a connecting bus, whilst I, Akka (sister), and Amma with few luggage started very eagerly once again for our yearly carnival at Rio. Well, we were on our new attire now and I was very proud to flaunt them as usual.

We somehow managed to sneak into a point to point bus at interchange on time, beginning our next two hours of journey, and I got very impatient as usual to myself waiting for the sight of Kanchi mutt, hitherto announcing the arrival of the Kanchi; where, I couldn’t wait to see a hoard of  uncles, aunties, mamas, Athais, cousins, Anna’s, Akka’s, and other nameless relatives with their friends ; where I can’t wait to shout and dance  Pongalo Pongal with my cousins, on high decibels, aiming to be heard at least over a few miles radius!

The bus was 76 B (pp); which means there would not be any stops until we arrive in Kanchi; which if not, would take anything between 3-4 hours; stopping at places including Poonamalli, Sriperumbudur; Sunkuvarchathiram with sight to behold though, with people cramming into each and other at various markets en route and into the bus; vibrant colours and hues matching the different emotions and moods by also flaunting their new attire for Pongal.

Well, we avoided that journey this year with the newly introduced point to point and hence we could make it within two and half lovely hours of bus trip to Kanchi; but not once again without the sweet aroma of remnant rice, husk and crop emanating from the  freshly harvested paddy fields, strutting  on either side of motor way, being etched on my fickle mind and flared up nostrils ;not without the rational (!)chit chats with my Anna and Akka,when I also would be tested on my IQ and patience(mind you, I am doing year 4^th and my sister in year 6th ); not without my usual huddle and cuddle sessions with Amma, whilst Appa continues to disappear in his voluminous snoring sessions; when I could actually ,discreetly smell and enjoy the  tobacco scent of his PANAMA cigarettes, wafting  from his ever snoring nostrils and his big, rough stained sturdy fingers.

Alas, we arrived….

I would actually hear and could see from a far off distance, few of my exited cousins, stationed themselves as sentinels cum messengers outside the household of, announcing our and likely other’s arrivals to the seniors inside, just by spotting us in that slow moving squeaky cycle rickshaw, into which we hopped en-route from the bus stand and hence, yelling with unchained happiness and excitement, “Athai is here….Mama is here”. 

Well, what a sweet rattler of an announcement it was; a true harbinger of greater fun and joy! Much to our happiness and satisfaction, the three big humongous fresh terracotta pots with loads of pristine pure traditional Pongal were almost done and ready to welcome us at 67A, Kamatchi Amman Koil Street and I was already in tears !!