Onam after the deluge......25thAugust2018

The ‘flood’ of events that bamboozled my naive sense had myself locked in a cocoon of thoughts over the frivolity of human wisdom. The deluge of the century had caught us napping and we as a state ,ironically shaped like the Noah’s ark ,was busy searching the Noahs in ourselves. It was a glorious spectacle to see the collective response of the citizens putting away their differences for another day. Legends were born.
The muck had not yet settled in their half washed away homes when the air turned murkier with the allegations from across the state border about being too ‘beefy’ on matters of accepting monetary help from compassionate neighbours. I ,till date believe that we malayalis were born with a flexible spine and the only state where we never allowed jingoistic ideals to derail our practical train of thought. For the first time in my life there is a call among us to wear the state as the trademark mallu moustache and stand up to the obstacles with a macho fervour. The ideals stamped by the social media convinced us to refrain from our Onam festivities and show solidarity with the flood victims. My mother meekly succumbed to our demands and said there will be no Onam celebrations.
This morning my mother came to my house and said that we need to acknowledge Onam at least by having a glass of payasam and sitting together as a family for lunch. I could see from her face that she was under pressure from my dad who had just sailed into his 91st birthday last week and hooked on for more family get togethers. Helped her in purchasing grocery  from the supermarket across the street and as she was sheepishly inviting my wife for the lunch,I could notice that she badly wanted it for her husband and more for herself. I broke her uneasiness by announcing that we three will have masala dosa together. We got one packed for dad . My old man was sitting with his cats slicing gamboge when his eyes lit up seeing the packet in my hand.He was delighted with the small packet of love delivered ,which got me emotionally stumped.I exited the house so as not to show the maudlin side of me. This evening my mother told me to get a few plantain leaves  from my backyard so as to have our frugal Onam fare. While I was still pondering about the fact that we had no plantain in our compound and contemplating on stealing it from my cousin’s plot I got a call from mom again. My dad himself had done the honours by limping away from home and cutting it from a small bit of property which he owned . The risk at which he put himself for the sake of a lunch puts me to shame.
Tomorrow, rather today is ThiruOnam. It took me all these years to understand the  real spirit behind the festival. It’s not the superficial Onam festivities that I look forth today. The spirit of togetherness that my dad cherishes is something I look for in every malayali.Wishing everyone love that would bind us all ,for times to come.