As I write this, I can smell rain. You know that smell. Dig deep into your olfactory memories. It is that smell at the onset of the monsoon season. For those of you who have never experienced a real monsoon, it is that smell when rain falls on parched land. It releases that smell. I don't know if it has a word to describe it, but I know what it is. Well, my nose does. The first time I read the God of Small Things I wanted to get on a plane and go home. Arundhati Roy does a brilliant job of describing the rain and Kerala in general. That home exists only in my mind, but anyway.
In the midst of an unprecedented draught, rain is finally falling on this parched rain forest. I am so happy. Back to the story at hand. Another happy story. As a child, I would have been looking forward to the 10 or so days off at this time of the year (well, it depends on something called a sidereal solar calendar which isn't in sync with the Gregorian calendar we use). People would make these elaborate designs out of rice flour likely and add in flowers to decorate them inside their house, outside their house, wherever.
I remember one year practising drawing a design on paper and then trying to scale that out to something much larger and failing. Drawing was never quite my forte. Onam is a festival in Kerala to celebrate various things; the rice harvest, the return of the mythical king Mahabali, a reason to get 10 days away from homework. It is something of a homecoming for Kerala's primary export, its people. I remember all kinds of people waiting for their near and dear ones to come home for Onam from Dubai or Madras or wherever they had left for.
The school I went to used to organise competitions between the 'houses' in school. A house is a sub grouping in school. You got assigned to one and had badges and things. There were all kinds of competitions between houses. Personally, I liked the flower carpet competition. I have no idea how many flowers are used in Kerala during Onam, but suffice to say, it is serious business. Valentine's Day has nothing on it. If you browse an image sharing site like Flickr or something, you will come across some really gorgeous pieces of elaborate art work out there. There is something beautiful about these intricate designs filled up with petals of various colourful flowers. Something peaceful and joyous.
The story of the footsteps now. The legend goes something like this. Mahabali, or Maveli as he is known in Kerala was an Asura King who seemed to adored by his subjects. Somehow this was an issue for various gods in the Hindu pantheon and they asked lord Vishnu to do something about it. Vishnu came to see him as Vamana, a brahmin boy. The king wanted to offer the brahmin boy something. Vamana asked for enough land that 3 steps or paces would take and Maveli obliged. Except Vamana could take some rather large steps. He took earth and heaven with his first two steps. And, since Maveli didn't have a whole lot left (talk about being generous!), he offered his head for the third step. Vamana stepped on him and sent him to the nether world. But before he went, he asked to be allowed to come visit his people once a year. And so people celebrate Onam to celebrate the return of Maveli.
I can't remember the last time I was in Kerala for an Onam festival. But I want to go. One day I will see the snake boat races. That was not really a thing where I lived. I want to go see the Nehru Trophy boat race. Think of it as dragon boat racing on steroids. I want to try my hand at filling a flower carpet. And eating some really delicious food. Seriously delicious traditional Kerala food.
And, for all those times when people have asked me what we do in Kerala for Baisakhi or Deepavali... I don't really recall anything special happening. Yes, Kerala is part of India, and yes these things are Indian festivals. But not quite the same in Kerala. As Doug Allan, one of the camera guys who worked with Sir David Attenborough on various ocean related videos (Blue Earth, Frozen Planet) said, Antarctica is rather large place, so asking me what it was like to dive in 'Antarctica' is a bit silly. He was on the BBC yesterday. Kerala is a bit like that. It is part of India. But different. We celebrate the return of benevolent demon kings with flower carpets. And bursting a lot of fireworks for Vishu. I like to think we're the most special, but that's just me. Anyway, for those who celebrate, I hope there is a delicious sadya somewhere and flower carpets to admire. I best go to sleep as I have to work.
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