April Showers

Growing up, April was a month I looked forward with great expectation on the calendar. Not because it a birthday month or anything… but growing up in the Gulf (or Gelf as us fraud Mallus would call it) it was a month of a short holiday post final exams. Nothing to do for atleast 2 blissful weeks, no holiday projects, no exams on reopening day, no studying at all! Yayy!

But more than that, it was the month of Vishu, also for some odd reason celebrated as the New Year. But since the Malayali calendar disagrees with that and calls Chingam the first month of the year, for sake of simplicity let’s just leave it at an occasion eagerly awaited by young and old alike.

Having only a couple of weeks before school reopening, we would rarely come to India for Vishu. Hence my earliest memories of Vishu are arranging the Vishu kani with my parents, with our limited resources of what specially imported kanni konna(Cassia fistula) fresh off the Indian Airlines flight from Trivandrum.

But my favourite memories of Vishu are inextricably linked with celebrating at home in Cochin, with my maternal grandfather. I was his chief lieutenant in all escapades growing up and arranging the traditional Vishu kani was a special time for us. He would get out the large uruli and arrange special brown rice in it. Then I would be given the privilege of spreading the fresh bunches of bright yellow kani konna over the rice. I remember watching (supervising!)my mother as she expertly arranged the stiffly starched kasavu mundu in the shape of a fan. We would then arrange various items of jewellery, earings, necklace, a ring, on a bright yellow vellarikkai (Yellow Cucumber). Setting out the lamps, polishing the mirror and setting up the best picture of Krishna prominently completed the setting.

 

In spite of having arranged late in the night, the kani itself is a breathtaking experience. The patriarch would wake up first and light the lamps. Each family member is awoken by an elder with warnings not to open our eyes. Soft hands cupping my eyes, we’d make our way over side stepping obstacles that inevitable strew the path. Voices directing me where to sit, the gentle hands of my grandfather would wipe my eyes with water and ask me to open my eyes. Oil lamps lit all over providing the only illumination lend a magnificent aura to the vision.

Then came the kaineetams. The most special part of Vishu where elders would bestow their blessings on the younger members of the family with money. Walking around collecting “blessings”, the money would come to a substantial windfall by the end of the day. Since I rarely trusted my mother with my earnings, I would entrust them to my grandfather, him being the safest bank I knew.

Meanwhile the ladies of the house would already be slaving in the kitchen for the veritable feast that was mandatory on Vishu. By noon, large plantain leaves would be laid out with 6 to 7 different curries ranging from sambhar, olan, kalan, thoran, pachadi, avial, etc. accompanied by all the trimmings of pappadam, chips, pickles, ghee-parippu, etc. Dessert followed in the form of payasam, which to be enjoyed best must be eaten off the leaf.