Usual Disclaimer – Rambling post.
Had taken leave from Thursday for the Festival of Lights, Deepavali, Diwali.
What makes a festival so special? As with everything in life, it’s the days leading up to the THE day. And sometimes because the path or our journey on that path is so eventful that the actual destination or the day becomes an anti climax.
I have always loved the idea of families getting together to make palaharams for Deepavali, or setting up the altar room for Navarathri, or putting up the Christmas tree for Christmas. I love the jokes, squabbles, everything about it. I hang on it, in the earnest, fervent hope, that these traditions, rituals, are passed down to the next generation, to my daughters, nieces, stutdents so that they do the same with their progeny.
Remembering my grandmothers and aunts huddling around coal stoves frying muruku, achu muruku and ribbon muruku in batches. Storing them in huge metal biscuit tins grudgingly given by grocery shop owners. Us children playing tag and hide-and-seek in the garden, kari-masak, baby sitting the younger ones, no maids then. The uncles lounging on chairs in the hall or verandah, supposedly watching us. Where has all this gotong-royong, doing-things-together gone? Most families have become nuclear.
I fondly remember mum filling huge eversilver trays with palaharams and offering to chinese neighbour on our left, malay neighbours in front, indian neighbours on the right. Those were the days when festivals were celebrated in full force, with such gusto.
On our first Deepavali in ‘92 as a married couple, we attempted Muruku, ribbon muruku using hastily written recipes from mum, mysore pack from my dear aunt, who’s not with us anyone, mixture from Rajamani Akka, fondly known as Pa ka. These recipes, written in illegible script, adorn pages of my recipe file, which I still refer to, to this day. Each year, each time, I read half pound ghee and translate that to grams, I remember my dear Kuantan Mami (yes, we all have aunts and uncles named after the towns they used to live in) telling me to add besan flour tablespoon by tablespoon carefully into the ghee, until mixed, something which I never do anyway.
But..every time I take that first bite of melt in the mouth deliciousness, (apart from other instances, of course), I remember mami with fondness, she lives on.
Anyway, that first Deepavali was spent making palaharams together, hastily letting down the hem of new curtains the tailor had made according to someone else’s specifications. We’d also visited an antique shop, found a beautiful Sleeping Buddha relic to adorn our home that Deepavali. He’s been on a special position on the staircase in our previous home and he now lies peacefully on my father’s antique turntable/radiogram set, beside a Tibetan prayer bowl, crystals and Himalayan salt lamp.
I am digressing.
Over the years, I have attempted this family palaharams making with sisters, cousins, mum, aunts.
I now do this with my daughters and husband here.
Celebrating in a land so far away from your homeland or your place of birth, can be difficult, but in this adopted land, we who once started off nuclear, have a large extended family of friends.
Held my usual annual pre Deepavali dinner at my home with a diverse, international group of friends from South Africa, Zambia, Sri Lanka, Malaysia, Singapore, Gujarat, Punjab, Mumbai, Bengal, Andhra – my, Suresh’s, Anusha’s, Vindhya’s friends.
Children, adults mingling, chatting, playing Pictionary, Articulate, charades.
Malaysian fare. Totally vegan.
Kuey teow. Rojak. Meehoon. Fried rice. Roti canai with dhall and soya curry. Vegan prawn curry. Vegan sesame chicken. Vegan lemon chicken. Sweet sour tofu vege. Vegan satay and peanut sauce, see foodspeak for photos. Lots and lots of desserts. One dessert made by husband who stayed up till 2am the night before to painstakingly ensure it turned out well.
Once again, let’s recap? What’s in a Festival?
Love.
The love you feel, that surrounds you, when you give, receive, share, laugh, rejoice, reminisce, yes and even cry.
Happy Deepavali dearest Sakhis, I have not met so many of you, but reading about you, what makes you tick, your love, your day, your comments, makes me feel I’ve known you all my life and that if I were to meet you in person, we’d just take up from where we’d left off in the virtual world.
Here’s wishing you Light. Love. Peace. Happiness. Great health. Prosperity. Lots of love to each and everyone of you.
The day before Deepavali, I am in a teal blue linen silk, which also looks sky blue in certain lighting, with royal blue checked borders and white and teal striped pallu. Refreshed after a shower, ready to take on the evening ahead. See below for photos of food and my daughter’s rangoli art.