Pongalo Pongal- part one (Bhogi)

Well, someone woke me up at 3 o clock this morning. It must have been Amma or possibly Appa. The sweet aroma of freshly lit fire already was in my eager nostrils and was sooner getting excited. It also slowly dawned on me that today was Bhogi, and at instant started remembering, Amma, scavenging lots of oldies over the past two months for this day of Bonfire eve, before the great day of PONGAL , tomorrow in Kanchipuram, at our grannies, 80 kms from our house here in Coral Merchant Street. Alas, now it’s time to wake up and worship Nature.

Well, I have been looking for this day for nearly 3 months, especially after the recent Deepavali holidays, in November; this would be the time when we shall get to meet all my cousins; young and old; aunties and uncles; favourites and not so ones; family friends; get to see new movies hidden away in my Amma’s sarees from my  hawkish periya maama or big uncle; get to exchange the lovely PONGAL Vazhthugal or greetings cards; get to wear lovely, yearly new clothes and get Pongal special inaam or money or gift  from oldies and young one alike, across our neighborhood here and also from our relatives in Kanchi . 

Amma is shaking me bit vigorously now; have to get out and help her out too. My Molams or drums are already tuned and toned for a good bashing for this morning (readied them last night itself) and I already could hear the noise emanating from here and there from our neighborhood. Appa bought me a Molam yesterday, a good one,  a bigger one of them made from fresh calf skin this year against Amma’s reluctance, (Well, I would never imagine in my wildest dreams that Appa would soon sell them in our corner shop), cause of the way they smelt with a strong stench. I had already prepared a drumstick myself with the local black Tar stuck to the tip of a stick and am really excited to display my prowess at Molam.  

My sister and Brother are already out on the street, I guess, in front of our house, helping Amma and Appa. I slowly, hesitantly migrate towards one vantage point amongst the infinities in that fine circle and began to beat my Molam for a hitherto unknown Thaalam!

The sound of crispy fire withering and eating away the wind and in the process engulfing  and munching away eagerly and rhythmically , the old mats, unused wooden logs, loads of disused and useless paper, card boards, mats, bug infested beds, coiled  mattresses, slithered and slaughtered pillows, decade old furniture, stained and disfigured nameless clothes, once  fancied and now not so objects, age old toys and finally to surprise us all, sometimes with an odd Deepavali cracker thrown in by mistake , shall always be a beautiful and scary sight too to behold.  Well, lots and loads of bonfire pits have come up all across our streets now and I could already see a bit of visible competitiveness amongst the oldies and kids alike, vying with each other to show us the street, which does what and the best of bonfire!

Drum sounds blaring, echoing and blasting our north madras neighborhood and the early morning dew was already drenching my petite head; well, the fire and heat would soon help us to fend off the dew and the cold, according to my sister; and she may be right. It is amazing to see an abstract (!) visual of red, orange, yellow mix of glorious fire, at ease with itself, and at objects thrown at it, subjugating them elegantly like a big elephant devouring a big casket of sugarcane, whilst swaying and dancing to the Molam beats; it is spectacular.

There were many a time when I wanted to stick my fingers in…. albeit not today. The fire is now lit in all our eyes and in our face too, and we are all already excited. Well no sooner the Bonfire done, which may take another hour and half, Amma would soon start cleaning the front yard with my sister and the next door ladies for the traditional display of cultural mathematically inclined KOLAMS.

I once again may have to draw in chalk, Sugarcane stems with Pongal cooking pots on either side of big kolams; well as I am good at it, hence may be invited to do the same on few neighbors’ front yards too.  Well no sooner the kolams were done; Amma would soon drag us to our open veranda for our traditional oil bath followed by sumptuous non-veg food and a good day spent at our corner shop selling greeting cards and what not!

The plans are not etched out yet , as it is always with my Appa, whether to start for Kanchi and join the other folks tonight itself or to leave early morning tomorrow on Pongal’ s day, after a brief stint with Sun God at our house before the epic three hours journey( I prefer the other, leaving tonight!) and join the gala get together for Pongal at my granny’s house :

where  pristine human bondage disguised as Pongal festival  celebration shall ensue in full swing; where nearly 100 of us relatives and friends shall eat three to four times a day over next four days; a family feudal ice breaking factory where, months of annoyance and feuds shall be easily dissolved at the insistence of my grandmother, also affectionately called  Amma; where ghee soaked Sweet Pongal on Pongal day, will be traditionally proudly handled by my grandfather , also affectionately called “ Naina” ; where we city dwellers shall be considered as fashion icons and  culturally advanced; where carrom games and champions shall be worshiped; where new genre songs from a movie called Annakili and few others from a chap called Illayaraja, will be talked upon with excitement ; a pucca  gossip haven,  where the fun of watching test match cricket live on TV shall soon began and end with Doordhashan with the  likes of chaps called Gavaskar and Gaekwad testing us kids , ducking every ball known in the game; where courtships shall bloom and may  blossom into wed locks( I guess); and where  for the next  16 years, at least until 1994 (the last grand Pongal?) , fun, fun nothing but fun shall ensue……

I am only 9 years old and it is year 1978!