My Deepavali in the 90s!

As the festive season falls upon us, I find myself reminiscing about my childhood Deepavali celebrations. I wonder if I could ever find the same excitement for the festival. My happiest and colorful Deepavalis were at my paternal grandmother's place in Mannargudi. It is a very small town near Thanjavur. There would be at least 10 of us in the big, old-fashioned house with thinnais on the exterior, one on each side of the door leading in to a long mitham at the center of which stands a tulasi maadam welcoming the guests. The living room, elevated from the mitham, turned super hot from the blazing heat that poured into it during the summer and super chill and breezy during the winter. I had spent most of my time there with my twin sister and my two cousins Baddu and Balaji. Wow, it feels like a distant dream now. Splashing water on each other from the cement tub in the rendaam kattu (second part or portion), the bathroom that did not have a ceiling, was one of our favorite time pass. Sacks of rice were once piled a little away from the long wooden swing in the living room. Four of us, kids around the age 7 or 8 I think, had so much fun swinging very high and landing on the pile of sacks. I remember the afternoons I spent making tiny vessels out of clay and filling them with juices squished out of the plants in the backyard.

On the day of Deepavali, we would wake up at 4 in the morning. All our new dresses would be stacked up in front of the pooja room. We'd head there straight out of bed and sit in front of the dresses waiting for our grandparents. Our thaatha and paati, who are no more, would rub some oil in our head and give us the new dress. Sometimes we, the kids, had to use the mitham for our bath as the bathroom was reserved for the elders. We didn't have geysers back then. They heated water in a large vessel on a wood-burning stove. After a hot steaming bath, we would dress up quickly, shivering and quivering, to join our cousins. There used to be a competition between the neighbors as to who will be the first to fire a sara vedi and decorate the road. Sara vedi has always been my favorite. It doesn't go Boom!!! with an unpleasant deafening noise. It is more like Pada Pada Pada ;) like a girl chattering loud and clear. Then busuvanam (flower pot) is my second favorite. Again it is an agreeable sound, BhuzzZZZzz, and a treat to the eyes too. But something has changed these days. I am no longer interested in firing crackers. May be I am growing old ;) It's just too noisy and smoky out there! Well, going back to my child hood now, my dad or uncle usually rushed to be the first to fire a saram in the street. We would all then light flower pots in a row. When the morning loses its last bit of darkness and it is no longer possible to enjoy the dazzling light from the crackers, we would start lighting the paambu maathirai (snake tablet) which when lit, rises and coils into snake like shapes. When the cracker frenzy is over finally, we would get to the endless varieties of sweets and savories. Oh dear god, ravaa laadu was and is still my favorite. I take each and every bite hoping to find that buried treasure of a cashew nut or an almond! Ah and the very famous, Deepavali Marundhu! Well, It is a kind of medicine, a dark green colored paste, made to keep your digestive system working as you keep over working it. Then there would be calls from our relatives asking, 'Ganga snanam aacha?'. I should find out why they ask that! :) Do you know?

Wishing you all a colorful and vibrant Deepavali!

The Ultimate Irony!

   As I delve into my self, trying to make sense of my existence or my 'quarter life crisis' as they call it, I find myself questioning faith. Born in a typical middle class Brahmin family, I grew up watching my mom start the day with slohas. She wouldn't miss any hindu God I would say. I remember reciting many slohas every morning as a kid. As I grew older, I gradually lost the habit. I started my 20s with a lot of questions. In my mid 20s now, I am still trying to figure out the answers, if at all there are any. I must admit though, that this seeking in itself is a Joy. I have always been amazed at my mom's faith in God. But I failed to associate myself, devote myself to these physical forms, I would like to call, of Gods.

   I have always believed that my God is faceless. God doesn't care about one's religion or caste. Whenever I gaze at the Sea, the mighty waters that change their color under the Sun light, with their incessant tides sloshing up and down the rocks, I find myself astonished by the wonder Nature is. Likewise, rivers give me this feeling of ecstasy. I visited Galibore nature camp on the banks of river Cauvery, near Bangalore two years back. It was pure joy to listen to the perpetual humming of the water flowing on the river bed. Moments like these make me wonder if this is what God is. The impeccable beauty of Nature, the goodness in people, the empathy that we feel towards others, those little acts of kindness in moments of misery, that feeling of gratitude, these are all my physical forms of God, of Faith. I would like to believe that.

  Recently, I happened to watch a few episodes of Mahabharatham on TV. I haven't read the great hindu epics or holy books of any religion. I remember hearing stories from my grandmother though. She used to tell me how Krishna, a naughty kid, ate mud from the garden. When his mother chided him and asked him to open his mouth, he opened his mouth to show her the entire universe. I was fascinated. I always thought Krishna is this God, who is not so angry or scary like Siva or Kaali.

  So I happened to watch the episodes in which Krishna gives Updesh to Arjuna. He tells Arjuna that he is the Paramathma. He is neither a man nor a woman. He is not the gender that is neither of the two. He is the entire universe. He is Lord Siva, Kaali, Brahma, Saraswathi and everything in the Universe. All human beings are a fragment of Paramathma. Well he tells a lot more. What got me thinking was, Krishna said that he is a human form of the almighty. Here the significance lies with the Universe, the Nature, the Energy, Science or whatever you want to call it. And not with the mere human form of God.

  But that is where it got tricky I guess. People started associating this power and ecstasy with the human form. So one says Vishnu is the almighty. The other says Shiva is the one. So they got busy fighting for their Rama, Allah and every other God in every way possible, thus forgetting the ultimate truth that God has no face. God doesn't know religion or race. Religion was created to make men lead a noble life and give him a sense of what is just and what is not. Different people understand things in different ways and so were born different religions with different practices conforming to the geography, food habits and the very nature of people. So people understood the exact opposite of what God was trying to say. Don't you think this is an irony? Isn't it amazing that a small change in perspective could make things look different?

 Well, these are just my musings. I might be wrong. Feel free to agree or disagree with me in the comments! :)