For the whole year, I was looking forward to this month of Chingam, where I get to spend ten of my lovely days in my home near the River Pamba. It is our holiday taken out of the books, where we enjoy a quiet retreat from the hustle and bustle of the crowded city where we live. From where we live, we can hear the high spirits of the echoing boatsongs from the snakeboats dashing through the river.
We wander around like tourists looking at the sights, smells and sounds that have denied to us to the place where we live in---the noise of the cicadas at night, the fragrant jasmines at the window that beckons you at night, the September full moon peeping through the horizon in our night rides, the grandstyle of the chundanvallams as they make a run through the river Pamba and the touch of rain on our skins as we stand immersed in the river. And, to tell the River Pamba as you stand hollering in its waters, that you are home once again.
For me, I love this much-awaited time spent at my ancestral home, the place I was born. I just love the memories of Onam from childhood, where this was the time when one went frolicking in the water waiting for the palliyodams to show their power. On growing up, it meant eating out onam delicacies to your heart's content and relaxing after a long luxuriant bath daily for ten whole days- learning how to rewind and relax after a long days of hectic work.
It means going back to your roots and learning how to make the traditional curries from scratch though you never reach the perfection of your grandmother's tasty curries. It means the art of letting go of the modern trends that you learnt in your growing years to appreciate the taste of food handed over through generations. This effort of making traditional dishes from memories slowly grows into a personal recipe book as well, with special additions of favourites that we enjoyed.
We wake up early in the twilight time and enjoy our morning coffee outside. Often, we wander across the green fields nearby taking in the breathtaking loveliness of the morning sights. Even the bird formations and the ducks swaddling delight us and our pixels. During dusk, we listen to the sounds of the insects and see the birds flying home in perfect formation. And, we listen to the gurgling of the stream nearby.
The days of our togetherness are marked with identical shades of kasavu saree and kasavu mundu and shirt. I wear strings of jasmine on my hair and darken my eyes with kohl. After the sumptous Onam feast made with the help from the whole family, we rest together like the ancient king and his demure queen. You sing the old boatsongs in your mellow voice and I sing along like a beginner as usual. Like, newly weds we learn the art of togetherness though it's been quite some decades. And, this is the Onam that we might know till the end of our lives.
