We are at the fag end of the year. The Christmas plum cake
with its rich, fruity taste and texture has been savoured and toasts have been
made for the New Year too, which of course still a few days off. There is
something magical in this month. I love this month and after much deliberation
I concluded that it was mostly because of the prevailing climate. After a harsh
summer and chaotic rains, Chennai settles down to a cool, tender climate which
begs the pulling out of moth eaten sweaters that smell of naphthalene balls
(not always a bad thing), the crisp, beautiful silks and the thick woollen tops
which are generally reserved for travels abroad or to cooler climes. The cool
air is redolent with smell of cinnamon and chai and of hot crispy vadas and
filter coffee (which of course is a staple the whole year too). In other words,
it is the closest we come to sharing the white, snowy, cold Christmas setting
that prevails over the parts of the world where it is celebrated.
In Chennai, we also know this month for the Margazhi events
and line ups. The month of Margazhi is special for Hindus here – for its
spiritual significance and aesthetic insinuation. This month the sun’s gravity
on Earth is at its highest, in other words, having the effect of pulling the
human system to its base. Margazhi according to the Sadhguru,
is the time to bring stability and balance to the system. Having been brought
up in the Brahmin dotted neighbourhood of Mylapore, I have had the pleasure of
watching households waking up early in the morning, cleansing their home front
with cow dung mixed water and drawing elaborate kolams or rangoli. I found that
all fascinating. My friends seemed to go from one kutcheri to another in their
tightly bound, jasmine adorned hair and silk pavadai chattai. All grown up now and having attended a few
kutcheris myself and having had the good fortune of dipping my toe in the
mysterious world of ragas and classical dances, I understand the magic that
envelopes Chennai around this time. A part of me craves these events that
ground me and expose my senses to the finer tastes and aesthetics of life. The
aroma from the mess of the sabha we go to is another reason, but I shall not
dwell too much in this post about it.
With such joy and servitude abounding this season, it is
quite easy to forget the troubles that have assailed us the previous year and
this year. With Chennai
flooding like never before in 2015 and with it taking up life and property
of a largely placid population, margazhi, Christmas and the New Year were just
markings on the calendar. This year too, with demonetization and the violent
cyclone Vardah playing havoc to day to day existence, one can be forgiven for
not cheering up. Worse for me has been news of the plight of the people in
Syria – so many people displaced, so many children who have lost their
childhood – it’s gut wrenching. It does make one realise that we are mere
mortals, just numbers waiting to be struck out by fate...our time in this world
borrowed. It is very humbling.
In all this there has been cheer of some sort – the moments
that bring focus to the things that keep us grounded in reality, the moments
that make us give up the tears and the hopelessness for its sake, those that
teach us to brush off the disappointments and frustrations and look up to each
day that is presented to us because one must keep going on. That is the only
thing that is a constant. For everyone.
For every one.
And as the new year dawns on us, my prayer to the Almighty
is to shower his abundance on all my near and dear ones, to forgive us our
complacency and presumptuous existence and to give each of us the strength to
believe and plough on when times are tough, because we simply have to.
Happy New Year you’all!
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