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Thengai Paal Payasam; payasam with coconut milk

Thengai Paal Payasam

I remember the smells of festival days I experience as a small boy.  The early morning sounds.  The milkman and the newspaper boy were the most eagerly awaited visitors.  Soon the priest arrives on a bicycle and my father is briefly separated from his newspaper.

Boiling Milk

My mother is dressed in a nine yards silk saree.  Her hair in damp strands loosely tied in a knot. Fresh kumkum, the smells of nallennai, turmeric, shikkai and soap mingle in my mind with the aroma of boiling milk and pacchai karpooram. Her thengai paal payasam (coconut milk payasam) is the one that I taste as these images float by.  I always thought of it as her specialty.  All the other smells wafting from the kitchen of perungaayam and coriander fade in deference to the payasam.  

Jaggery

The festive lunch that followed the puja was usually served on big banana leaves.  She would always save an end leaf (nuni ilai) for me.  The hot payasam served from her big, round stainless steel flange pot was so full of milk and coconut and lentil flavors. I have never had it made by anyone else in quite the same way.  Today, on my father’s birthday, I make this payasam and I sense their presence with me.

Cardamom and Saffron

Milk and payasam are inextricably linked to our cultural memories with religious rites and festivals. Stories of Sri Krishna playing in Brindavanam mingle in our mind to the subtle refrain of songs like Ksheerasagara shayana and Palaale Kaal Alambi and memories of family weddings and the payasams we were served.

With all this floating through my mind, I boil three liters of milk. I  take care to reduce the heat and stir constantly lest it scald. As the milk thickens and forms a creamy texture I add cardamom, saffron and jaggery.  I keep stirring gently and add brown rice and moong dal (paruppu) that I had cooked together.  Gently stir some more. At the very end I add a handful of mixed dried fruit. My mother would have used golden raisins.  Finally, a full cup and a half of rich coconut milk is stirred in.  The payasam is now heated gently and taken off the heat before it boils again. 

For a more detailed recipe and additional pictures please see http://www.thesimplevegetariancookbook.com/payasam-coconut-milk/

Setlur Ramaswami Iyer in San Diego

Setlur Ramaswami Iyer in San Diego, California; a memorial concert by  Vidhushi Trivandrum Seethalakshmi

November 5^th 2010, San Diego, California.  

The Indian Fine Arts Society of San Diego is having a concert by Vidhushi Trivandrum Seethalakshmi. The concert is in memory of of S.A. Ramaswami Iyer (1855 -1936) the principal disciple of Walajapet  Krishnaswamy Bhagavatar  who was the son and disciple of  Walajapet Venkataramana Bhagavatar .

Ramaswami Iyer was a second-generation disciple in the Sishyaparampara of Saint Tyagaraja.   A graduate of Madras University (FA), he served as a salt sub-inspector in the Rayalasima area.  Attracted to Saint Tyagaraja's music, he gave up his government position to undertake gurukulavasam under Wallajapet Krishnaswamy Bhagavatar and soon became his principal disciple. He subsequently also studied under Umayalpuram Krishna Bhagavatar and Sundara Bhagavatar.

In 1910 he published, at his own expense, the book Tyagarajasvami Kirtanangal under the nom-de-plume Kanchi Mahavidvan Ramananda Yogigal. This is the first known publication of Tyagaraja’s works in Tamil and this book is a part of the collection in the libarary of the Music Academy. He also published a book on Tyagaraja's pancharatna kritis with notation.

Ramaswami Iyer shared his knowledge and expertise with whoever approached him. Sangita Kalanidhi Prof. P. Samabamurti was one his disciples.   In 1925 Ramaswami Iyer was chosen to supervise the construction of Tyagaraja's samadhi in Tiruvaiyaru.   He devoted much of his last years to propagating lesser-known kirtanas of Tyagaraja. 

He was not a performing musician though he is known to have participated in the Marghazhi bhajan groups in the madaveedhi’s of Mylapore where he is said to have frequently sung lesser known and rare kritis of Tyagaraja. He would also participate in expert discussions in the then nascent Music Academy, often correcting the singing of Tyagaraja krithis by the leading vidwans of the time. They would listen to him because of his stature. However, dissatisfied with what he perceived as deviation from tradition, he stopped participating later meetings.

After Ramaswami Iyer’s death in 1936, Prof. Sambamurthy made arrangements to provide his widow, Kamakshi Ammal, a monthly pension for the rest of her life.  

One could well ask why there would be a memorial concert in San Diego for S.A. Ramaswami Iyer. The reason is quite simple.  Ramaswami Iyer’s great grandson Subramanian Ramachandran makes his home here.  He and his wife Revathi, herself the granddaughter of musicologist and Harikatha exponent Kallur Krishnamurthi Sastri, have sponsored this concert. Seeking to have a fitting tribute, they have personally invited Vidhushi Trivandrum Seethalakshmi to give this concert under the auspices of the Indian Fine Arts Association of San Diego.

In his brief introduction Subramanian notes, “When we look back at our collective ancestry, it is filled with extraordinary stories of personal sacrifice for the sake of various ideals - whether it be getting independence for India non-violently, or propagating traditional art forms for coming generations. Today, it gives me great pleasure and pride to remember my great grandfather Sri. S.A. Ramaswami Iyer whose contributions to Carnatic music were made with a lot of personal sacrifice and sacrifice by his family as well.” 

There is still much to be learned about Ramaswami Iyer’s life.  A conversation with his grandson, Prof. K.S. Ramachandran (Professor of Mathematics retd.  Viveknanda College), who was six years of age when his grandfather died, suggests that the family is attempting to learn more about Ramaswami Iyer’s  life.    From the anecdotes  he shared,  it appears that Ramaswami Iyer was a talented and multi faceted personality whose life was stretched  thin between government service and family obligations  on the one hand, and a deep love of Tyagaraja’s music on the other.  This came at some considerable cost to family life.  With research and investigation, the family hopes to learn more about the details of his life and contributions.

For the weekend following the concert, San Diego took advantage of her visit by having Smt. Seethalakshmi conduct four workshops to teach Swathi Tirunal compositions to students of various age groups.   These workshops were held at the home of Revathi Subramanian.  Students of all ages and their parents attended and participated in these workshops.

The Concert   ( written by C.M. Venkatachalam)

 On Nov 5 2010, San Diego music rasikas gathered at Neurosciences Auditorium to hear a concert by veteran musician-teacher Smt Trivandrum Seethalakshmi.  And  what a concert it turned out be! A few of us have known about her, having seen the YouTube broadcast of the now famous navaratri mandapam concert by Smt Parassala Ponnammal where Smt Seethalakshmi assisted by vocal support. Despite being Deepavali day on a Friday evening, there are a good 150 people in the audience and they stayed to hear a full three hour concert.

The concert started with a Tulasivanam composition bhajAmahE in hamsadhvani. It was immediately evident this will be a traditional carnatic concert in the best sampradAya. A bright vasanta followed with tyAgarAjA's sitamma mayamma. Then came Tyagaraja's masterpiece ElAvatAra in mukhAri.  The alapana in mukhari was full of bhaava. The musician glided through the notes of mukhari effortlessly handling both dhaivatas, the alapana sequence climaxed with several sangatis ending in tAra sthayi rishbam; hearing this mukhari brings back memories of her guru, the inimitable Semmangudi Srinivasa Iyer.

The mukhari was followed by dharmavati alapana and Ambujam Krishna's jAnaki vallabha.  All sangatis very systematically rendered - one could learn this kriti just by listening to her rendering.  That Smt. Seethalakshmi is a good teacher becomes very clear when one hears her kriti rendering. The kalpana svara was beautifully presented. The sequence of gg mm dd n ending in jAnaki was very soulfully rendered , bringing out the Dharmavati effectively.

Her style of kalapana svara rendering had an easy flow - concealing kaNakku complications since raga bhava was adhered to throughout.

Then came a very soothing Maravakave O Manasa in Sama followed by paramapurusham in lalitapancamam. For the latter composition, a crisp cittasvaram by GN sir was presented.   A world class kambhoji alapana followed . Her singing was open throated and her akarams beautifully produced. As she developed the raga, it was clear that she was totally immersed in the music; singing the raga as if unaware of her surroundings. It gave the impression she was not performing for us. We were just witnesses. 

It was appropriate that such an alapana was followed by a majestic O Rangasayi.  Then we were treated to the slokam, sri raghavam dasarathatmajam aprameyam, in ragamalika. Her sloka rendering was very captivating. It was clearly one of the highlights of the concert.  This followed by a surdas bhajan, a punnagavarali manipravalam by swati tirunal, AyE giridhar by Swathi Thirunal, a Thillana in Sankarabharanam, tungAthIra virAjam (ragamalika). Before concluding a short slokam vElunDu bhayamillai in varali was presented with Sivan's masterpice ka va va. The varali sounded lovely at the end of the concert.

Smt Seethalakshmi certainly brings Semmangudi's bani in her presentation, but instead of sounding like mimicking her guru, she presents it with her own voice and as her own music as assimilated by her from her guru. There is a consistency in her singing, a sense of nischayam in her approach. Her guru has left us in her a legacy for all of us enjoy.

The vocalist was ably assisted by Sri Nishanth Chandran on the violin and Sri Raamkumar Balamurthi on the mridangam.

SONG LIST 

1. bhAjamahE-Hamsadhwani-Aadhi-Thulaseevanam
2. sIthamma mAyamma-Vasantha-Rupakam-Thyagaraja
3. ElAvathAra-Mukhari-Aadhi-Thyagaraja
4. jAnakivallabha-Dharmavathi-Misra Chapu-Ambujam Krishna
5. maravakavE-Sama-Rupakam-Patnam Subramanya Iyer
6. paramapurusham-Lalitha Panchamam-Kanda Chapu-Swathi Thirunal
7. O rangaSAyI-Kambhoji-Adhi-Thyagaraja
8. Sri rAghavam - Slokam - Ragamalikai
9. rE man-Sindhubhairavi-Ekam-Surdas
10. iLa thaLir SayanE (Padam)-Punnagavarali-Misra Chapu-Swathi Thirunal
11. AyE giridhar-Panthuvarali-Ekam-Swathi Thirunal
12. Thillana (nAdhrudheem)-Sankarabharanam-Desadhi
13. thungAthIravirAjam-Ragamalikai-Adi
14. kA vA vA-Varali-Adhi-Papanasam Sivan
15. Mangalam

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Kathakali with Supertitles; a welcome use of technology

The unlikely scene for an experimental innovation in Kathakali performances is a small liberal arts college in the Midwestern United States. A group of three artists; Kathakali exponent Kalamadalam Shanmukhan, journalist-writer and commentator V. Kaladharan, and Kathakali makeup artist T.R Sukumaran, spend a few days on this campus. The three day Kathakali residency includes a lecture demonstration with students and faculty, an interactive workshop with dance majors and culminates in a full Kathakali performance on the last evening.

Fall weather is upon them in early October and the leaves on the college campus and the adjoining faculty community streets shimmer red and gold. The bright sunny days disguise the chillness in the air. The artists are enjoying their stay at the home of the teaching couple who have worked with the college to make this event possible. The camp would not have been possible without the support of the college and an endowed fund which promotes such efforts in international cultural education.


Fall colors adorn the street where the artists stay.

 In the lecture demonstration the language of Kathakali is introduced to a group of fifty students. The hand mudras and the abhinaya as well as the facial muscle control that is quintessential Kathakali are presented to the students. The absence of the elaborate make up and costume reveals the often hidden complexity and rigor of this dance form. Shanmukhan enacts the first portion of the play without any music and Kaladharan simultaneously explains the narrative and abhinaya to the class. The “master class” workshop engages some thirty dance majors in a participatory experience. Shanmukhan has them trying out the footwork, the hand gestures and basic Kathakali postures.

The lecture and workshop set the stage for the performance on the third day of the residency by familiarizing a large number of students with the mudras, the footwork, and other elements in the language of Kathakali. The story line of Ravanodbhavam, the classic operetta written in 1777, is also introduced. For Shanmukhan, steeped in a tradition of rigorous one-on-one training with his guru, this is all a novel experience.

However, the professor has something more in mind for the on-stage performance. She wishes to ensure that the intricacies of the abhinaya and storytelling through Kathakali become accessible to the entire audience. How best to achieve this without long introductory speeches or explanatory notes which would be distracting to the audience and artist alike?

These ideas were soon rejected as being too intrusive in favor of projecting explanatory notes on the backdrop with the help of a projector and a PowerPoint presentation. This would be akin to supertitles that have become vogue in opera since they were first introduced in 1983 by the Canadian Opera Company. Supertitles have been credited with making opera accessible. But would this really work in a Kathakali performance?

The professor and the artists sat in an office and worked on this effort for nearly two entire days. Every minute of the day except for the time allocated for the lecture demonstration on the first day and the dance workshop on the second was consumed by this effort. As they tell it, Shanmukhan sat in the office and enacted the entire play completely from memory as it was taught to him by his guru. Imagine performing a 90-minute play from memory. The performance text was what he had imbibed from his guru at Kalamandalam. His teacher has taught it to him, he said, mudra by mudra. Sitting in the professor’s office he would first do the abhinaya and then explain each set of gestures and their significance in Malayalam. Kaladharan would then explain it in English. The professor and Kaladharan would come up with the translation and she would then type it into the PowerPoint slides, trying to achieve a reasonable translation that could capture the meaning. Kaladharan would then double check with Shanmukhan to ensure that the translation fully conveyed the subtleties of the original libretto.

After two days the PowerPoint files stretches to 84 slides. As they tested the slides in the auditorium they realized it was most effective when each slide included just two lines of text. This way the audience could just glance up and take in the text at a glance with minimum distraction from the performance. Kaladharan would advance the slides during the performance. The audience would be able to take in the subtext and watch the performance while the artist on stage repeats each abhinaya sequence two or three times to the accompaniment of a recorded soundtrack of the chenda, the maddalam and the manjira. This was the plan and they all hoped it would work.

I arrived on the afternoon of the program and at the professors’ home. When I was told about the “PowerPoint” they were going to use and I was quite skeptical. I didn’t really see how this could be done without detraction and dumbing-down the audience experience. I was quite perturbed and was prepared to write the whole thing off as another American experiment; well intentioned, but a recipe for disaster.

When I get to the auditorium and see the first slide being tested my fears are confirmed. I silently hope for the best.


Kaladharan and the professor in conversation before the performance.

 The auditorium soon fills up until every seat is taken. There are even a good number of students sitting on the floor just in front of the stage. The two faced Kuthivilakku is lit with one flame turned to the artist and the other to the audience.

The performance begins. Shanmukhan in full regalia of kathivesham is revealed from behind the Thirasseela. I barely notice the text softly projected high above on the stage backdrop. Kaikasi is seen caressing the baby Ravana. The tender scene unfolds and Kaikasi rocks the child in her arms.

Caressing the baby Ravana. Note the superscript on the back drop screen.

As the complexity of the story line evolves I find myself glancing up and reading the superscript and soon find it is a part of my experience. Far from being a distraction, it helps me understand much more of the performance than I would have unassisted. The audience, which includes the students who have participated in the workshops, is drawn in further. Even those who had not been to the workshops could comprehend and enjoy the nuances of story line. Kathakali was no longer just a visual experience. It was also an intellectual challenge and remarkably subtle.

Ravanodbhavam was perhaps an ideal play for this approach. An innovation inspired from Thorana Yuddham from Ramanattam which was a precursor of the present day Kathakali.  The play by Raghava Pisharoti is a departure from the usual depictions of Sri Rama and his exploits. Here is Ravana presenting clues to his character in his own terms. Why and how he came to be so powerful, his motivations, his passion and his sense of filial duty are all explored through the story of his penance. Despite himself, Ravana displays his pride and growing arrogance as he struts like a peacock upon receiving each boon from Brahma. This arrogance and the fatal mistake when he demands and receives what he thinks is the boon of immortality comes across as the essential tragedy in his life.

Kalamandalam Shanmukhan as Ravana

 A single dancer who masterfully portrays Kaikasi as well as the ten headed Ravana, Shanmukhan even brings Brahma down on stage as we see Ravana conversing with him upon culmination of his terrible penance. Without any vocal music and no climactic battle scene, Ravanodbhavam relies heavily on the abhinaya to convey the story. The only prop is a simple wooden stool.

As the students congregate excitedly after the program many can be overheard discussing the papers they were going to write about this performance as this was one of their assignments. I wished I could read these papers to see what these students were able to take away with them from the intensely emotional spectacle of tenderness, innocence, horror and tragedy.

The artists with some of the students and faculty after the performance.

The next day the same program is presented in another mid western city; this time to a smaller audience made up mostly of South Indians. For some this was their first exposure to Kathakali and others had been to several performances. The same superscript is used here as well. The program seemed to flow even better the second time. After a standing ovation nearly every member of the audience is heard commenting about the superscript and how it made the program so much more meaningful and enjoyable.




We can only hope that this innovation will be repeated by others and used with restraint. Whether they earn the sobriquet superscripts, subtitles, supertitles, foot notes or backdrop notes; short phrases effectively written in English and/or Tamil and Malayalam may be just what Kathakali needs to make it accessible to present day audiences in India and abroad. This could very well rejuvenate audience interest in this remarkable art form. Superscripts have several advantages over extempore introductions. They are less intrusive. The content can be carefully written and polished over time. The effect is not dependent on the speaker. The artist can focus on performing.

My fervent hope is that bilingual superscripts will catch on at Bharathanatyam recitals as well.   I can only dream that this will happen in my lifetime.  I wish to be able to see a program without the intrusive convent school introductions before each segment.  I find these are usually poorly written, simultaneously jarring and intrusive.  Superscripts may well be able to address the need to engage the audience in the story line in a much better manner. It puts the audience in control of when they seek to take in the explanations. Done bilingually, superscripts can reduce the impact of the disconnect in English translations.  Let us hope it catches on.


“Ravana then looks at the Sun God and commands: “O Sun, until my penance ends, you shall not move from that spot.”

GRANNY SMITH GOES TO HEAVEN!

A perfect recipe for apple thokku ( chutney or relish) South Indian style.

Ingredients

12 large Granny Smith Apples
2 large Fuji, Gala or Pink Lady Apples
12 fresh Serrano or Thai peppers
14 tsp sea salt or table salt
1 cup virgin raw sesame oil (light)
3 cups canola or vegetable oil
2 tsp mustard seeds
6 dried chilies
4 tsp turmeric powder
12 tsp coarse chili powder
1 tsp asafetida (lightly fried and ground)
3 tsp fenugreek seeds (toasted dark and ground)
2 tbsp white sugar


Ø Heat a small cast iron pan on the stove and dry roast the fenugreek seeds. Stir constantly until the seeds begin to splutter and spin and turn dark brown. Remove from heat when you see a light smoke and immediately transfer the roasted seeds to a cup. Allow them to cool and then grind them to a coarse powder using a mortar and pestle or a small electric grinder.
Ø Peel and core the apples and grate them coarsely using a hand-held grater or a Molinex grater. The coarser the shreds the more texture you will have in the final product.
Ø Slice the Serrano or Thai Peppers lengthwise into inch long pieces
Ø Heat the sesame oil in a large heavy bottom 6 quart sauté pan
Ø Add mustard seeds and allow to sputter for a few seconds
Ø Add dried chilies broken into large pieces and stir
Ø Add the turmeric and asafetida. As soon as they are fried add the fenugreek powder and all the other dry ingredients and stir for 1 minute.
Ø Add the cut ingredients and heat over a medium flame while stirring gently and frequently until the mix comes to a boil.
Ø Add sugar and stir in.
Ø Continue stirring constantly until the apple juice begins to thicken and the entire mixture gets to a jam like consistency.
Ø Remove from heat and allow it to cool uncovered.
Ø Spoon into canning bottles.
Ø Refrigerate
Ø Send a jar or two to Shankar


HINTS
ü Use large apples and prepare them quickly before the apples begin to darken.
ü Make sure you have all the other ingredients prepared before peeling the apples.
ü If you do not have asafetida pieces use powder but increase the quantity by one tsp.
ü Use light sesame oil.
ü Do not use the dark toasted sesame oil that you get in Chinese or Japanese markets.

Rhapsody with Lemons

A simple but delicious recipe for making lemon pickles right in your kitchen.
First concocted in fond memory of my grandmother - Rukmini Krishamurthi.

Ingredients
12 – 14 fresh lemons
2 large segments of tender fresh ginger
12 fresh jalapeno peppers
16 fresh Serrano or Thai peppers
18-20 tsp sea salt or table salt
4 cups virgin raw sesame oil (light)
2 tsp mustard seeds
6 dried chillies
6 tsp turmeric powder
16 tsp coarse chili powder
3 tsp asafoetida (lightly fried and ground)
3 tsp fenugreek seeds (toasted dark and ground)
2 tbsp white sugar

Ø Cut the lemons, ginger and chilies making sure to use a clean and dry knife and surface.
a. First slice off a bit near the stem
b. Then into 8 segments each by cutting each into half and then each half into four quarters.
c. Peel, slice and cut the ginger stems into 1cm pieces.
d. Slice the jalapeno’s lengthwise and remove the seeds
e. Chop the Serrano’s into 5mm pieces

Ø Layer the lemons, chilies and ginger into a large glass or ceramic bowl sprinkling the salt liberally over each layer.
Ø Allow this to marinade for five days on a cool shelf. Keep it covered but stir once a day with a clean and dry spoon or spatula
Ø Heat the sesame oil in a large heavy bottom 6 quart sauté pan
Ø Add mustard seed and allow to sputter for a few seconds
Ø Add dried chillies broken into large pieces and stir
Ø Add the turmeric and asafetida. As soon as they are fried add all the other dry ingredients and stir for about 1 minute.
Ø Add the cut ingredients and heat over a medium flame while stirring gently and frequently until the mix comes to a boil.
Ø Add sugar and stir in.
Ø Remove from heat and allow to cool uncovered.
Ø Spoon into canning bottles.
Ø Refrigerate
Ø Send a jar or two to Shankar


HINTS
Use the freshest possible ingredients.
Get the tenderest bits of ginger you can find and the freshest of chilies.
If you do not have asafoetida pieces use powder but increase amount by one tsp.
Use best quality sesame oil but for a lighter taste you can use half sesame and half canola oil.

Bharatanatyam for aficionados; a humbling experience

The evening Bharatanatyam performance by Prof. C.V Chandrasekar was an eye opener for many in the audience. The clean lines, perfection in posture and footwork and precision in hand-eye movement, were new experiences. The full program included an invocation to Ganesha, a Tanjore Quartet varnam, an astapadi, Javali and Padam. Click here to see the full program list Items that should also be mentioned are “Adum azhagai paaradi”, Ksheera Sagara Shayana choreographed by Chandrasekhar as well as the concluding Hamsanandhi tillana which was composed and choreographed by him.

The simple and elegant costumes distracted nothing from the aesthetic movements on stage. It was also refreshing after a long time to see a program without the usual and insipid “convent English” translations. The nattuvangam by Jaya Chandrasekar was crisp and unobtrusive, complementing and blending with the dancers’ movements. This was a program that any aficionado of Bharatanatyam should have seen and heard. The vocal music sung by Vanathi had been meticulously prepared and presented.

More the pity that the hall, though well filled, was not packed to capacity as would have been the case if the dancer was one of the glitterati names who adorn the Bharatanatyam stage today. The audience was also given reassurance that yes - the art and classicism of Bharatanatyam is alive and well even if not in abundant evidence. V.V Sundaram sums it up well in his remarks by saying “I thought I had seen some Bharatanatyam in my time. But I feel humbled by what we have seen today”.

The following day Prof. CV Chandrasekhar conducted a two-hour lecture demonstration on two themes: the emotive aspects of nritta as well as aspects of music for dance programs. The latter brought out the significant differences in singing for dance concerts versus singing at a music concert.

This was followed by a presentation of his abstract dance ballet, Panchabhootam. Ramya Harishankar and her troupe presented this program. They had come all the way from California at their own expense. In Ramya’s own words “ we wanted to present and share Chandrasekhar’s work and pay tribute to him at this event where he was honored with the title Nrithya Rathnakara.

Shankar Ramachandran, Cleveland, April 14, 2004

Navarathiri; a womens' festival

Young Rukmini gets ready to go to the temple with her mother. Her hair is braided into two tight plaits. Her face is scrubbed and shines with expectation and pride at wearing her newest skirt, a bright blue one with a red border. She and her mother are about to walk to the temple near the village for the evening Navarathri celebrations.

All the women from nearby will be there with their daughters. For weeks now each family have been busy with their preparations, polishing a brass plate until it shines like a mirror, making powders of various colours from vegetable leaves and such. Black from dried curry leaves, red from powdered brick, little white beads from cooked rice paste. With a light sticky gruel they had made kolams on the tray and stuck these rice beads to form the lines and borders. The space in between is filled with the painstakingly prepared coloured powder. And this evening all the women congregate at the temple and offer these “painted prayers” to the Goddess.

Dressed in their best, dark shining tresses tightly tied back, red kum-kum shining on their foreheads, the women arrive at the temple with their daughters in tow. The children wear the little jewellery they possess. As the evening light fades and the only sounds to be heard are that of the gently swaying coconut trees and the rustle of pepul leaves, the oil lamps are lit . The mothers and daughters hold out the trays in their outstretched arms. Together they rotate them in front of the shrine and pray for the future of their families and their children.

The scene is visual. But the smell of freshly broken coconuts, camphor and incense fill the air as do the fragrances from the jasmine and tulsi and kadambam garlands that adorn the shrine. Every woman has a small bunch of flowers tucked in her hair. The sound of brass bells from the temple doors mingles with the soft chimes of the silver bells on the little girls’ ankles.
After the pooja, the girls talk excitedly about the kolam competition the next day. Who will win this year? Will it again be Mala and her mother from the next village? People from nearby villages come to see the kolams in the temple courtyard. The simple, white rice flour with the occasional dab of red from crushed brick pieces belie the complex patterns. Yellow flowers from pumpkin creepers are occasionally used to add a flash of colour.

Navarathri is essentially a woman’s festival. It reflects and perhaps helps develop an aesthetic sense that is essentially feminine. No crackers or boisterous processions here. Neither big feasts nor ostentation are a part of this celebration. Each family decorates its home in a simple fashion. An arrangement of dolls and ornaments form a prayer area. Each evening the women and their daughters visit their friends and neighbours and sit together in a ritual bonding that helps them remember who they are. They are the keepers of the hearth. They share a little sundal and a simple sweet, sing songs for each other and pray for peace and tranquility. The Goddess of Navarathiri, Durga in the form of Mahishasuramardini, is the one who vanquishes the demon Mahisha who represents violence and evil.

There is a school of thought that suggests that these are the demons we face within ourselves. The worship is our endeavour to come face to face with the turmoil and conflict within each of us. For this we seek the grace of Goddess Durga. And in Her name the women gather to unconsciously reflect on their most basic social obligations. They keep the peace, raise the children and promote gentleness and maintain cultural memories.

In recent times, Navarathiri has changed and transformed itself as it adapted to city life and the urban environment. Dolls are made and sold in markets. These are collected, some painted clay and others in tiny plastic forms. The decorations became more elaborate as the collections of dolls grow. Small themes would be created. A hill with a temple on it, a bus stop and a few dolls become the pilgrims. The fact that the pilgrims are disproportionately larger than the bus stop does not matter. A mirror edged with sand forms a small pond. Sprouted mustard seeds and coriander seedlings form a grove and a forest behind the hill.

Another practice involves dressing up children in different costumes. These costumes are made with odd pieces of cloth, a dab or two of talc, and a prop or two taken from the odd cupboard. A little girl becomes Krishna with a peacock feather stuck in her hair. Another in a turban becomes Thyagaraja the composer. Together the kids go from home to home in the neighbourhood. In each home, they are welcomed with smiles and affection. Their costumes are admired, they are given sundal to eat. So many varieties of sundal! Some have fresh coconut grated over them, others have a lime dressing and still others are made with dark beans and chopped unripe mango that imparts a crisp texture and a tart aftertaste. Plenty of mustard seeds, a few dried chilli peppers and lots of asafoetida are the secret to the success of any sundal.

Navarathiri is a time for giving. In each home are prepared little bags of take away gifts. Typical gifts include a comb, a small vanity mirror, a small plastic kum-kum box, along with the usual betel leaves and nuts and of course the omnipresent haldi andturmeric which have come to represent all that is feminine in our culture. Each family gives gifts that reflect their means and budget. The importance lies in the joy of giving.

In recent times the Navarathiri Kolu has become more elaborate and thematic. Affluence, urban life and a market economy have left their indelible mark. The Kolu has become a festival in itself. Big themes from the Ramayana and other Hindu stories are portrayed. The dolls and the theme park efforts often remind one of elaborate Lego lands or other Disneyland like properties. Some are tasteful. Others are garish and some glitter gaudily in the dark. Secular themes of Independence days and national political figures form the basis of some Kolus. Environmental themes predominate now, with water conservation a particularly popular theme. This is only natural in a city whose population has grown well beyond its ability to supply water to its citizens.

Perhaps this year someone will have a 9/11 Kolu replete with burning towers, Bush and Bin Laden. Some more daring themes include an anti-war presentation with newspaper headlines and photographs pasted on the wall. Quixotically, birth control and AIDS awareness, infanticide and other pressing social issues are nowhere to be found.

Despite the vivid imagination, the artistry and skill reflected in these theme extravaganzas, despite all the good taste and the new ideas, these exhibits are missing in something. Perhaps it is the essential simplicity of our lives that is gone. Where are the children and their mothers who used to make and display these dolls together? Is it a life and an innocence that we have lost forever?

But Navarathiri is also being reborn. An artist friend, Deppika, is organising a 'traditional' Kolu replete with handmade dolls and clay figures hearkening to yesteryears. A 'tableau', she calls it. The theme is Andal Charithram, the Tamil story of the woman who is regarded as the greatest of the Alwar poets. Deppika and her mother Uma have together worked on this Kolu. I wonder if the sundal will have grated coconut and chopped mango in it! Will it be homemade or will it be catered from “Suriya’s Sweets”?

Shankar Ramachandran, Chennai, October 2002