Rath Saptami

 I have always maintained that I am indeed lucky to have been born to high caste Brahmin parents. Let me explain why. We had the best of both the worlds. All that is good, ideal,wonderful in the caste was mine by birth, and through upbringing. Yet such was the kind and generous behaviour of my parents that all that could be considered wrong (actually every caste would have all such problems) never ever even entered our consciousness! 

An example thereof could be the Rathsaptmi  celebrations. Actually, the day symbolises the beginning of the sun's symbolic journey towards the northern hemisphere. Clearly it signifies the beginning of, the ushering in of the spring/summer cycle. In the agrarian calendar, it means the harvesting of the rabbi crop.

All the rituals followed in my family signified these climatic, geological changes. And lucky were we that all such explanations happened, too. Aai could draw the Surya/sun rangoli pattern. The seven horses of the chariot would signify the seven days of the week, the seven colours of the rainbow, for example.

Aai used to make a small little bonfire in the backyard, and she used to boil a special kheer of rice, jaggery, and milk in a special small little utensil. She would consciously let it overflow. The explanation was that every small little creature, ant to birdies, must get a share! We were thus from childhood itself environmentally conscious, and considerate of lives, however small and insignificant, around us. 

She used to make that tough to make gulpoli yet again for the second time.Her perfect polis would never burn, burst at the seams on the 'tawa'.  The simply lovely and tasty filling inside would be spread till the edges, artistically cut. The dollop of homemade ghee spread on it, the sesame chutney, the special veggie, we were so indulged in a very healthy wholesome way. Oh, yes, Papa taught us all the Surya Namskar's , too! Happy and healthy was our childhood.

 Aai was an expert at making the halwa. It is an extremely difficult art, a tedious process. I still remember the lily white cloth she would use to see to it each halwa grain would get perfectly formed.

She could make lovely ornaments of these delicate, fragile goodies. She did make them for both her daughters-in-law and her three grandchildren. Backbreaking work! It was a labour of love for her 

In other words, all that is artistic, poetically rich entered our souls consciously as well as unconsciously. It made us sensitive and sensible, too.  Thus our upbringing was  healthy, wholesome, symbolically like the tilgul, the perfect mix of roasted sesame seeds and the sweet jaggery!

Pratima@Yes, I can make tilgul and gulachi poli. But neither is perfect like Aai's. Slowly but surely, my generation started outsourcing all such delicacies. That is why, may be, childhood has been let out to the t v. cartoons. May be, beyond the Mandal Bill, this ousting of sensitivity, too, is a subtle soci(et)al reason why caste consciousness created externally is so bitter and harsh these days!