The days of Deepavali past

Charumathi Ramachandran remembers a festival where shopping would be last minute and children would burst crackers at dawn

For children, Deepavali usually means waking up at dawn and bursting crackers.

The excitement of an approaching Deepavali, the rush to buy new skirts, the search for a good tailor, animated discussions with classmates about plans for D-day, proud declarations of purchases (“I got mine at Radha Silks!” “Mine is from Spencer’s!”), the frenzy to attend the first day first show for a Sivaji or MGR movie, and the meticulous counting of days leading to the festival. Deepavali has indeed seen a lot of changes. Meanwhile, at home, a flurry of relatives and friends descend, some even bringing their choice clothes to show off to the elders and procure advance blessings. There is also the talk of the newly-wed daughter and the son-in-law heading home for their thalai (first) Deepavali — a major event in a couple’s life. And then there’s more talk of the seeru or the paraphernalia of gifts and snacks for the couple and the boy’s family from the girl’s family.

Repeated visits to sari shops with personal attention from the owner himself — who is a picture of piety and is adorned with gold chains and diamond studs, while the father sits patiently in the Plymouth car, apprehensive about the final bill. He twiddles his thumbs and stares hard at the five huge cardboard boxes. Having no choice or say in the matter, the father drives home silently where the sons are waiting to go to Parry’s for firecrackers. And with hundred rupees that has gone up in smoke, he becomes stoic.

After school, the children eagerly come home when the

bakshanam — mysorepak, ribbon pakoda, badhusha, murukku and ompodi — is getting ready. Grandmothers and cooks toil in the kitchen all day but it’s worth it because the end products are scrumptious and are strictly meant to be consumed only on Deepavali. Nothing beats the pungent smell of the Deepavali

legiyam being expertly ladled out from a huge vessel.

For boisterous boys, the day dawns at 3 a.m.; they’re raring to start bursting the Lakshmi

vedi . Others are urged to wake up by their mothers and grandmothers to partake in the traditional ganga snaanam . Each one is made to sit on a wooden palagai (stool) and kumkum and sandal applied along with generous amounts of gingelly oil on the scalp. A little bit of mysorepak is offered as prasadam . The kolams, meanwhile, are already in place.

After morning prayers, everyone dresses up in new clothes, has a hot breakfast of fluffy idlis and the family sets off to visit close relatives — to eat snacks, laugh and talk, play a game of cards, and finally fall asleep.

The writer is a Carnatic vocalist.