The Harvest fete

This is a partially-almost-complete documented journey of life through our eyes. Our, intending--me, Shylu and Andy, one of my best friends and also the co-contributor of this blog. Sisters alike! Yea, that’s us! We seem to share almost every particle of life along the same instance of our individual time-lines. Would it be just to call it a mere coincidence? Would it not? Would it even matter? Would that even make any sense to you? I think not! Well, join me-neither to me.

We are just a regular bunch of girls enjoying the city to its most, bunking college rather too often, hanging-out, driving without a license, with great appetites at any part of the day, freaky, so full of ourselves, a daring nerve to try the impossible and most likely, the unthinkable (if you know what I mean ;)), a bit weird, shocking at times, investing too much thought and pride to our grown-up selves (!) If all that just sounded like too much to take, then I would suggest that either you are too unacceptable a guy, spending too much time in the realms of some bygone doctrines of life. Or you are a woman yet to visit this phase, or most likely, much past this phase which you have overlooked and now self-reproaching.

On this note, let me introduce the people to whom I am ever grateful, the people who MADE me and the raison d'être. School life and my people who complete the picture, when I say ‘My School Life’. To do it in a chronological array—I begin with Krithika-my pre-grade friend and well, practically my first best friend! Nandini who became my ‘chicken-licken’ best friend (Well, don’t ask ‘what?’ It’s a long story!) and my best well-wisher; Kannal-who remains a constant source of inspiration and a charming friend; Saranya-who turned out to be a Tamilian after all and not a Bengali (private joke!) and a very close friend to this day. I thank you and all my other friends for what you were, and much more vital-for all that you still are.

And that brings us to TODAY! It’s the eve of Pongal. And there was a punch of surprise to our glass of dull expectations. Well, to state the fact, we* hadn’t anticipated or wished for something extra-ordinary for the day. We aren’t such great fans of our class nor of its members and the only reason we ever make it to college is to flee away from the otherwise meaningless crap we might indulge in. Believe it or not, I still remain skeptical when having to refer to my class girls by name! There is a good number of names I find hard to place it with the associated person. Lack of anything else better to do, we went to college. There was a strict ‘only ethnic wear’ dress code today. But what’s the fun in adhering to rules? And what’s the point? : D We made it to the college as usual by standards of time (late! And therefore having to pay the fine, that’s a daily ritual) in a nondescript salwar just to the infuriation of some! But the day did work out to be good, despite the fact that our friends were missing in the scene. Totally detached from the rest, we did find some solace and peace in clicking away everything that deserved a ‘picture moment’.           

Pongal-as we all know through the millions of essays and composition texts made to write as home-work during the younger grade classes (failure to do so would have resulted in imposition and similar punishments) – is the harvest festival of Thamizh Nadu. It is a thanks-giving jamboree to the farmers, to the cattle and above all, to the Sun God, who remains the ultimate source of energy, enlightenment et al. What my mind had in picture for a ‘Pongal celebration’ at college was of young girls in colourful sarees finding great difficulty to remember the Thamizh names of the ingredients used to cook, discomfort reeking in every act of the day, laying out vibrant patterns for rangolis, having to cook using traditional stoves, with no knob to control the fire and well, you get the picture. But surprisingly, girls seemed to be adept in having to transform when need calls for it. There were dishes made in the traditional way-chakkara pongal (sweet pongal), payasam (dessert), vadai (hot donut) and salted butter-milk with chili for beverage. They were handed out in traditional cups made of dried leaves. It would be so very unfair to comment on the taste of all these, seeing that they were prepared completely by students who are amateurs at the least. Nevertheless, everything tasted scrumptious, especially with the flawless chakkara pongal that tasted just like how it should. Vadai was scarce in number and only the elite few ;) , just saying, who were near the point of distribution, could treat themselves to the Sugar-cane is the other ‘sweet’ factor of Pongal. Being a tomboy, I was readily helping some friends with breaking the sugar-cane stem into small edible bits.

All in all, we couldn’t have asked for a sweeter ‘Pongal Day’.

Love and Peace to everyone ♥!!