An ode to every mother and 'grand'mother

“Two Birthdays!!! How can I have two, amma? Is it magic? Does everyone have it? Do chechis have it? I am the only one who has it right? Will I get two gifts?  ….“ The 7  year old myself rambled on and on…

Amma slid a third crispy dosa, drizzling with ghee, onto my plate. While the rains poured outside , she expertly swirled the ladle of batter on the iron pan.

“ Noo monkey. You were born on the 25^th but there was a star shining bright at the same time. So we celebrate when the star appears around the same time as your date of birth. And yes all of us have it.” I understand the plight of my mother who may have tried to explain the astrological point of view nevertheless  I didn’t understand a thing but was quick enough to ask “ What's the star called? “

She slid the 4^th dosa onto my plate and stood with her arm on the chair- “Makam”

 In what we call perfect timing , my green/violet eyed cousin brother  (What is the exact  colour of his eyes ,I still don’t know) sits down next to me, "Makam pirana monkey”.

In retaliation , I damaged his perfect volcano shaped mound of  dosa podi and the ready -to -mix oil spilled all over his plate . I successfully destroyed a dosa lover’s satisfaction of seeing the oil spill slowly out of the golden mound of podi. ( I  refuse to give dosa podi an English name. Its my story, my choice of words !) Meanwhile His fingers were confused as to whether they should stop me from running or contain the damage on his plate.

Lo and behold, the D day arrives. The sun is still not fully up but  my excitement and I are up. A quick shower with a fresh bar of Palmolive and minutes later I am dressed in a purple Kancheepuram Pattupavada. Amma tightly screwed the gold jhimkis into my ears, the pain of which   reminded me of booster shot vaccinations. Isn't there one more to take when I am 10 years old. I shuddered for a second; making the tiny screw slip out of her hands. The next few minutes saw her scanning me from top to bottom to check if it fell on the folds of my rustling silk pavada. My uncle dutifully brought the torch (Jhimki screws falling on the floor is no new phenomenon in the house) and I lay flat on the red oxide floor hitting the light at every corner. We finally found it in a corner that only I could crawl in and out of .

Pavada..reset. Blouse..reset.. Hair ..reset. Jhimkis.. Firmly reset. Purple Bindi…Set. Amma and I marched out while my sisters chose to hide under the blanket lest amma, in a divine moment, feel that they should accompany us as well. 

There is one most important character amidst all this who has already begun the work for the day’s feast. She has already met the gods at 4;30 am even before amma was up and about. (Difficult to believe that someone could wake up earlier than my amma).

Our dearest industrious Ammuma! The seniors in the family can validate but I think she knew everyone’s (children and grandchildren) star birthday at the tips of her fingers. Needless to say, the ones living next to her were mandatorily in the ancestral home on their star birthdays.

On such auspicious days, actually every day, she insists on fresh cooking of the choicest set of items that still make the younger ones salivate. Today’s Magam Star Birthday special menu includes.. ( No.Lets wait for lunch time)

Post the temple visit, Amma and I walked home with a smeared forehead and hands full of palm sized plaintain leaves brim with separate pastes of  sandalwood , turmeric and vermillion  which were slightly squashed with finger size bananas , lone flowers and tulsi leaves ( whole world of botany in my hands,I say).  I rush to ammuma in the kitchen who gives me the first gift of the day. She allows me to quickly hug her because I am visible proof of purification post temple visit.

I could smell potato stew in the making before I ran out to wake the others up. Amma has announced that I am excused from studying today. Could this day get any better?

An hour later , my cousins have arrived and we have been playing indoor and outdoor depending on the rains. Today is my birthday so naturally I am a winner in all the games. I will not be declared “out” while playing cricket, I will not be caught while playing catch , I will scream and hit “Sat” first while playing hide n seek.

A point to be noted here is when we played indoor , the appetizing smells from the kitchen distracted our good intentions. We weren’t allowed near the kitchen’s periphery but my little cousin brothers had their ways. One of them could crawl and run better than walk. Post the border breaching activity, the salted banana chips and jaggery coated chips would come out of their pockets while we innocently played ludo or snake and ladder.

When I look back today, I smile at these memories that were designed to make us feel special.

Rewind to lunch time and we step into the dining hall where I see amma, my aunts and ammuma laying the freshly washed plaintain leaves checking twice for slits on the same. A round wooden slightly elevated block  placed right in the centre is where the birthday girl or boy, uncle or aunt is privileged to sit. 

So todays’s menu that they have cooked and served with all the love and happiness is – Avial, Sambhar, Stew, Pulinji, Cabbage Thoran ,  an erissery that my mother’s elder sister makes extra sweet because she believes it tastes better when the block of jaggery blends with the spices(Sweet-just like her). The other allies are of course pickle, papadums (Thousands of it), salted banana chips, jaggery coated chips, curd mixed with ginger and chillies ( apparently in the olden times  it is said that this one dish is equivalent to a thousand- a belief I definitely uphold ) and my favourite brown coloured payasam.  (Reader, I am only 8 so I differentiate  payasams by their colour!)

My most favourite part and this one I am sure everyone recalls with fondness is when ammuma brings a glass of water with tulsi in it. She blesses and sprinkles this on my head after which begins the feast. Even though the children have tiny fingers and feet and some of us have to lift our torsos to reach the pulinji on the far left of the  leaf, we all knew how to eat with not a spill on the outside of it. 

But my most favourite was when the aunts announce no one can get up until Birthday girl finishes her lunch. Just to delay ,  I would slow down and relish every bite , every lick, every sound of the crush of papadum over the mashed potato stew, pulinji , curd and rice.  All eyes would be on my leaf and they would howl if I asked for more payasam. .” Magam pirana monkey” my green/violet eyed cousin would call out knowing I would get up to attack him during which the others would escape… and it goes on.

I am sure that every ancestral household with an industrious grandmother will have such customs and traditions that pertain to no particular festival but a birthday.

Unfortunately I have no pictures of our birthday lunches with her . She is but a happy memory today but look at how many memories she has created for us. Her smile is vivid in our minds. She may not have said much in words but her actions and beliefs made each one of us feel special. It was definitely not easy to cook up a feast but they did it for us. She never missed a birthday, she never missed to do a pushpanjali and she made his or her favourite payasam even if they were in another country.

The tradition still continues.. The tulsi  water is still sprinkled by the eldest on the birthday girl or boy, aunt or uncle in our homes. I don’t know if they still wait for the most special one to finish their lunch first but if I were home , I would ensure none moved till I finished.

A standing ovation to all the mothers and ‘grand’mothers for giving us such beautiful memories at the cost of your tired bare feet walking with us on the temple grounds  and the endless hours standing at the kitchen.

“Amma when is my payasam birthday? Can you make brown paysam without nuts? “ I turn to wink and slide the 6^th dosa onto my daughter’s plate…

 

 Love from Birthday Girl

Rani ( Makam piranna... Manka)