Monthly Archives: March 2014

Delectable food and celebrations are not the only definitions of festivals. Clyde D’mello asserts how MONTI FEST helps in strengthening family bonds.

It’s September 8 and in the little town of Mangalore in Karnataka, preparations have started for a glorious celebration of the mother.  Catholics get ready to go the church to celebrate this divine day and at the end of the mass, the priest gives the family a ‘NOVEM’ or rice paddy which stated by the name is ‘NEW’ or the first crop of the season, for the triumph that will soon take place i.e. the coming of Christ.

Monti fest or Mother Mary’s feast celebrates the Nativity of the Virgin Mary, and as we remember Christmas where a ‘Crib’ is made to signify the birth of Christ, here the feast has a single baby wrapped lying on a pile of hay with paddy seeds behind her. The Festival is native to Mangalore and was started by Fr. Joachim Miranda,a Goan priest during 1763 from Firangipet (which is translated as Foreigners’ market) located in border Mangalore, from the church Monte Mariano Church or Mount Mary Church. It was the time when Tipu Sultan was destroying and vandalizing most of the Konkan Catholic civilization (Goa Maharashtra and Karnataka), and this was one of the few churches that he didn’t touch due to the priest and the sultans Fathers, Hyder Ali’s close ties.

The festival celebrates the first crop of the year and like other harvest festivals in India (a few names to put in are Onam {kerela}, Pongal {Tamil Nadu}, Lhori {Punjab} etc.).Along with the paddy, sugarcane is also given as a reminder of the new life (Christ) who will soon come – ‘within the following months’ to children who bring flowers to the church.

It is a family event where all the members sit together and eat , though people have kept history at bay we need to thank Tipu Sultan for not destroying this church for among other reasons.This festival is now a national ‘thing’ as well as international, for many Magaloreans who basically live in the Persian Gulf this festival reminds them of their roots.

To a certain extent the food prepared is surprisingly ‘vegetarian’ (technically speaking most Christian are Non- Vegetarians by habit and Vegetarians by Choice). The Festival acts a reminder that Konkan Christians (Catholics) wherever they are, being Indian they were also Hindus at a certain point of time and due to the conversion or inter- marriage (Anglo Indians), bought in by the Portuguese (for a better life). The festival also reminds them of the  pain that the Konkans have been through during the reign of Tipu Slutan  , his 15 yr captivity that caused a near extinction of the community gives them pride that they have survived and carried on, and as ‘God’ would say ‘go forth and multiply’.

The food preparation starts from the ‘NOVEM’ that is blessed in the church at the altar by the priest and collected by the head of the family. After a sort prayer at any Mangalorean home, food is prepared by the ladies of the house (this can also suggest a patriarchal society), the menu includes a variety of dishes and a standard ingredient in these dishes is the Coconut.

The food is served on a banana Leaf and at the end of lunch a sweet dish is served (Vorn- made of Jaggery, Daal (lentils), coconut milk and Novem and garnished with cardamom). It is here where the NOVEM is added, that probably gives it a ‘Prasada’ feeling (or sweets given by priests after the end of a prayer or pooja) which incidentally happens also here not by priest but by prayer led by the head of the family.

There are atleast nine dishes prepared and eaten to the fullest

1. Allu Dentte (colocaesia leave with mangalorean masala with spinach stems)
2. Karate (bitter gourd – which is prepared in a paste form with grated coconuts and masala)
3. Ladies finger (fried)
4. Dry brown gram that is slightly sweetish.
5. A dish made of long string beans.
6. Tendli or Ivy Gourd, with grated coconuts and chilli.
7. A curry made of sponge guard
8. Pathorode or colocaesia leaves made with rice batter and steamed after that mangalore masala is added to make a dry curryAnd of course Vorn

On a more personal note to me, being a Mangalorean,this festival brings families together, it is the process of sharing responsibility among the family and that is where the fun lies in this festival, this is also a way for relatives to know other members and friends of the family that seem to be vanished or are “too busy to call” and for the younger generation to know how tight a family bond is.

H.A. Anil Kumar reminisces about old days when Bengaluru celebrated Shivaraathri in its true spirit and essence.

As we came out of the second show film from the touring talkies ‘Gajanana’ theatre at Yeshwanthpur (Bengaluru), it was almost impossible to completely exit out of the building. Those who wanted to watch the third show at 1am, midnight, literally pushed us in, like a huge wave pushing a ship in the direction which it did not intend to go. As a result, we – all the friends in their teens – were pushed back into the theatre, inside the theatre to watch the same film for the second time, that too for free of cost! We saw our favourite star Rajkumar’s film, though not very willingly because one could not sit through the film, literally. Everyone was standing throughout, perhaps to keep themselves awake, or because more people could be accommodated by standing than seated. Even the audience silhouettes became inevitable part of the screen all through. When we came out of the theatre at 3.30am, we still had few more hours for sunrise and for Shivaraathri festival to conclude and pave way for our eyelids to get united.

Shivarathri is a festival that captured our imagination in our childhood days in Bengaluru, like no other festival, in the 1970s. Throughout the day, we would wait for the night to arrive, because it was Lord Shiva’s raathri or night; and also waited for the dinner in the form of sacred offering, because we had to fast throughout the sunlit day. So it was a festival of waiting, of the future.

My grand mom or aunt or mum or all of them together, would for the nth time repeat the story of a hunter who was the reason for the formulation of Shivaraathri as a festival. It was a ritual to tell this story as well as listen to, every year, like the ritual of watching Attenborough’s film about ‘Gandhi’ on 2^nd October, every year on television. Kannappa, the hunter, would climb a tree and wait throughout the night for a hunt, endlessly plucking off leaves from the Shivalingam tree so as to not fall asleep and fall off the tree. He was hungry and sleepless; hence all who adored Shivarathri (or the school holiday and the pleasure it brought in) should oblige to fast and go sleepless on that festive day. Born into a generation after the hippy generation, we still had this reasoning: why should we go hungry since for Kannappa it was inevitable? Reason and logic don’t go hand in hand; and would play a spoilsport in celebrating the festival.

Shiva’s temple at Yeshwanthpur would be jam-packed throughout the day and the night on Shivarathri. On the festive day(time) we would just take a glimpse of the temple from outside, to which we were bound to come back in the night out of compulsion. This was the third element of waiting inherent in the festival, apart from fasting and being awake.

The dim lit temple interiors would be brighter by the evening and the wild flora and fauna of Bengaluru all around it would trigger off our imagination, to personally imagine the Kannappa’s story in our own style. The ignorant and innocent Kannappa (man who gifted his eyes to Shiva) sees that the Lingam has eyes and is crying. God crying in front of the innocent! He plucks off his own eyes and pastes it as crudely as possibly onto the lingam. Incidentally Rajkumar’s first ever film was “Bedara Kannappa” (1954) and he is Kannappa in it! Most of the films I saw during Shivaraathri, annually, was only this film and when it was remade after four decades, his son played the role of Kannappa while Rajkumar himself played the role of Shiva. He was better suited as a devotee than the lord, because his screen presence was longer in the former role. This populistic imagination might be one of the reason as to why we rejoiced Shivaraathri better than any other festivities. Also, there was only one hero who acted in all Kannada films, no matter how many different actors acted as heroes, when my generation was in the making – that was only Rajkumar for us!

(i) Innocence, (ii) stress on visuality, (iii) not closing one’s eyes for twenty four hours (iv) fasting and (v) populistic imagery – were the elements which fascinated us.

I still wonder as to why that day was a holiday for the school, which should have been the next day, by all logistics. Most of us who managed to reach the school next day due to the lure of parental threat did so with red eyes.

Shivaraathri is always a night of cold and chill, no matter how hot the days on its either side were. We did all that had to be done, to be awake on that night, often even sleep in the afternoon! We also did almost everything possible to fast, by eating only loads of fruits and drinking milk, almost to the extent of suffering from indigestion when it came to eating cooked food, the next day morning!

Even after watching the midnight-third-show film, we would roam around the dimly lit and zero traffic roads of Yeshwanthpur. Often we would burn cycle tyres, wooden plaques from the shafts that constituted the petty shops, to keep awake and away from cold that would inflict sleep. Only if Kannappa could have imagined the kind of characters who would express their empathy with his sleepless-hungry night!

Hence Shivaraathri surpassed being mere festivities. It was Bangalore’s response to the elaborate, nine-day-long Desersa of the Mysore Maharajas. The nature of the then Bengaluru, less populated, more homogenous in nature and the absence of yet-to-arrive idiot box (television) were the reasons for such a public participation. Shivaraathri was more of a community, cultural and populistic festival rather than a religious one.

In the beginning decade of the current century, I went to pick up a foreigner friend and welcome him to Bengaluru at HAL airport. On our way back, near to the airport, I stopped to show him the huge Shiva image, recently installed. We had to pass through a den-set-like dark passage. As soon as we emerged out the image, a monstrous-sized Shiva in plaster-like fibre-glass moulded physique pounced on our sight, though seated. It was no Shiva, but a pop-kitsch-pastiched version of the diety, with mutiliated sense of iconography, like those thousands of Buddhas showcased in glass-cases, at every corner of Srilankan roads, or the Christ on every district in Kerala. God save Shiva from those who attempt to recreate him in a contemporary avatar. Evoking the experience of being ancient and nostalgic are the true identities of Gods in general and Shiva in particular. Due to such and other reasons, Shivaraathri has been an experience, lost and camouflaged in Bengaluru, now.

Nisha Aggarwal details myriad forms of celebrations of the harvest festival exploring the significance and rituals of the festivities throughout the country.

‘You are invited to the festival of this world and your life is blessed’, said Rabindranath Tagore. If I imply this saying of Tagore, I would say, ‘I was born in India in this world and my life is blessed’. Because the cultural diversity, thirty five divisions of India including states and union territories imbibes, elsewhere is not seen.  Each community owns the uniqueness of their culture and religious beliefs. And celebrations, mostly the religious celebration of particular community are known as ‘festivals’. The word festival devours the ‘feast’ in itself, which means any large meal. So, a meal in honor of sacred god of particular community is an essential part of any Indian festival.

I belong to Rajasthan by birth, where Punjabi and Marwari cultures have mingled to an extent. Then living in Delhi for a decade was being a deponent of cross-cultural stream of India. Now, a central government employment, with a posting in Andhra Pradesh, gives me opportunity to peep into various cultures at a single place. Here the majority of the people are Telugu speaking Andhraites, most of others are from Kerala, Tamil Nadu and the northern parts of India. I often try to hoard these cultural diversities into single pocket of mine, while living here and travelling to other places, which seems collecting the precious pebbles residing roadside.

Just now, while writing this, I am remembering the ‘colorful gems’ I have collected so far.  Picking out one amongst all is going back in the month of January this year during Makar Sankranti, when I was in Andhra Pradesh.  It is like opening up the page of a Hindu calendar, because besides being a major harvest festival of India, Sankranti is considered a New Year for Hindus also. The festival is celebrated in almost all parts of India and south Asia in myriad cultural forms. The day is also regarded as the beginning of an auspicious phase ‘the holy phase of transition’. It marks the end of an inauspicious phase which according to the Hindu calendar begins around mid-December. It is believed that any sacred ritual can be sanctified in Hindu families, this day onwards. That’s why the day is considered an ‘unasked’ auspicious day for marriages and other providential/ritual works. Scientifically, this day marks the beginning of warmer (termination of winter season) and longer days compared to the nights. It is a beginning of new harvest or spring season and cessation of the northeast monsoon in South India.

Makar Sankranti has an astrological significance. On that day the sun enters in the Capricorn (Sanskrit: Makara) zodiac constellation on its celestial path and the movement of the Sun from one zodiac sign into another is called Sankranti. So, the day is named as Makara Sankranti in Hindi/Indo-Aryan language. It is one of the few Hindu Indian festivals which are celebrated on a fixed date i.e. 14 January every year or may be sometimes on 15 January (leap year). This date remains almost constant with respect to the Gregorian calendar. However, precession of the Earth’s axis (called ayanamsa) causes Makara Sankranti to move over the ages. A thousand years ago, Makara Sankranti was on 31 December and is now on 14 January. According to calculations, from 2050 Makara Sankranti will fall on January 15.

All over the country, Makara Sankranti is celebrated with fervor and euphoria. However, it is observed with distinct names and rituals in different parts of the country. It is known as Pongal in Tamil Nadu, Uttarayan in Gujarat, Maghi in Haryana, Himachal Pradesh and Punjab, Lohri in Punjab (Lohri is celebrated a day before Makar Sankranti), Bhogali Bihu in Assam, Shishur Saenkraat in Kashmir Valley, Khichdi in Uttar Pradesh and western Bihar and as Makara Sankramana in Karnataka. The importance of this day has been signified in the ancient epics like Mahabharata also. So, apart from socio-geographical importance, this day also holds a historical and religious significance.

I had observed the ‘Sankrat’ as a festival of daughters, hieratic charity to needy ones, kite flying and an enjoyment around the ‘bonfires’ in night during my days at Rajasthan. Specially, the ladies take it as a ritual of giving any type of object (related to household, make-up or food) to 14 girls/married women/needy ones (may be because the date of festival is marked on 14^th of January). And it was something interesting as a child to me, because being a girl child I also used to be one of those 14. First Sankranti after marriage is special for a daughter. People invite friends and relatives (specially their sisters and daughters) to their home for special festival meals (Sankrant Bhoj). The day is celebrated with some special Rajasthani delicacies and sweets such as pheeni (either with sweet milk or sugar syrup dipped), til-paati, gajak, kheer, ghevar, pakodi, puwa, and til-ladoo etc.

In Andhra Pradesh, it is ‘Sankranthi’ instead of ‘Sankrant’ and celebrated for four days as Day 1-Bhogi, Day 2-Makara Sankranti (the main festival day), Day 3-Kanuma, and Day 4-Mukkanuma. On the preceding day Bhogi, people discard old and derelict things, which represent realization, transformation and purification. The next day/main festival day is marked with new clothes, praying, and offerings of traditional food to ancestors who have died. Andhra people are expert in decorating front of their homes with ornate drawings and patterns. They do it as daily ritual so how their festivals can be completed without rangoli? They usually make geometrical designs with help of ‘dots’ on the ground with chalk or flour, called ‘muggu’ or ‘Rangoli’ in Telugu. Afterwards these drawings are decorated with flowers and colors. In temples rangoli competitions are also organized on this day mainly depicting the bull and cow within design. In food people prepare Ariselu, Appalu (a sweet made of jaggery and rice flour) dappalam (a dish made with pumpkin and other vegetables), Pongal (a kind of Khichadi) and make an offering to God.

On the third day, Kanuma is celebrated. Nowadays Kanuma is not being celebrated widely as it used to be. Fourth day is called Mukkanuma which is popular among the non-vegetarians of the society. People in Coastal Andhra do not eat any meat or fish during the first three days of the festival, and do so only on the day of Mukkanuma, whereas people in Telangana region observe only the first two days as part of the festival. They eat rice cooked with til (sesame seeds) on the first day and eat meat on Makara Sankranthi (Pedda Panduga), the second day of the festival.

Another distinctive feature of the festival in Coastal Andhra Pradesh is the Haridasa who goes across the houses early in the morning with a colorfully dressed cow, singing songs of Lord Vishnu (Hari) hence the name Haridasa (servant of Hari). It is a custom that while going to everyone’s houses he should not talk to anyone and only sing songs of lord Vishnu. People offer rice and money into the pot like vessel that he wears on his head. People enjoy the festival as kite flying occasion also. The customs are different than of I experienced in Rajasthan and in Delhi, but the charm is same. And that is the one color of India, one can experience while living in any corner of the country.