Golu
Mom always rued the fact that she did not have a girl child during Dassara. She thought if she had had a daughter, we could have had a Golu like all other poor Brahmin families (display of clay dolls mostly... of gods and their rides.)
Suren and I were primarily interested in visiting every damn house in Greamspet during Golu time. We came back with a lot of Sundal (baked, spiced peas seasoned with mustard seeds.) The Chetty homes made the best Sundal. They added tiny slices of Mango and grated Coconut in it. We ate so much Sundal that we farted perennially. Preeen! Puf! Plift! And, if when we got lucky "Bbbrrrooommmm!" But the deadliest of them all had no sound. It is the muted killer. Nisabdham, Praana Sankatam!
I guess when I was in Fourth class, mom decided to have a Golu. Daughter or not. If you are wondering why a mother with no daughters can't have a Golu... Well, the tradition is that the women invited each other to their respective Golus and gifted each other blouse bits along with Vermilion, Yellow Banana, and Beetel leaves. It is totally a girl thing. Anyway, that year we went shopping for dolls and bought lots of them. We dug some earth and sowed Ragi seeds. When they sprouted, we planted the farmer and his bulls on a ploughshare. It was a pretty neat idea. We also planned to decorate the Golu on the wooden display rack with serial lights but mom dumped the idea. I had just started playing with electricity and I was blowing the fuse at consistent intervals.
Mom warned us that we couldn't afford to unleash the muted killer farts and chase our guests away. So no Sundal in our own home for me and Suren. Mom's Golu was a smash hit. My dad burnt a few hundred Rupees grudgingly. We gave away a lot of blouse bits that time. We moved to Chennai next year and forget a Golu, we didn't have space for ourselves in our Chennai home. And of course the landlord banned Golus. He thought it was some sort of a Pagan routine. May he rot in hell. So the memory of Golu faded away. We grew up into handsome young men. Ok, I won't push it. We grew up and got busy with the vicissitudes of life. We got girls. We married. And now I have a feeling Suren's going to have a Golu next year. And guess what I am going to do next year? Yeah! You guessed it. Muted Killers at Suren's. Here we come!
Suren and I were primarily interested in visiting every damn house in Greamspet during Golu time. We came back with a lot of Sundal (baked, spiced peas seasoned with mustard seeds.) The Chetty homes made the best Sundal. They added tiny slices of Mango and grated Coconut in it. We ate so much Sundal that we farted perennially. Preeen! Puf! Plift! And, if when we got lucky "Bbbrrrooommmm!" But the deadliest of them all had no sound. It is the muted killer. Nisabdham, Praana Sankatam!
I guess when I was in Fourth class, mom decided to have a Golu. Daughter or not. If you are wondering why a mother with no daughters can't have a Golu... Well, the tradition is that the women invited each other to their respective Golus and gifted each other blouse bits along with Vermilion, Yellow Banana, and Beetel leaves. It is totally a girl thing. Anyway, that year we went shopping for dolls and bought lots of them. We dug some earth and sowed Ragi seeds. When they sprouted, we planted the farmer and his bulls on a ploughshare. It was a pretty neat idea. We also planned to decorate the Golu on the wooden display rack with serial lights but mom dumped the idea. I had just started playing with electricity and I was blowing the fuse at consistent intervals.
Mom warned us that we couldn't afford to unleash the muted killer farts and chase our guests away. So no Sundal in our own home for me and Suren. Mom's Golu was a smash hit. My dad burnt a few hundred Rupees grudgingly. We gave away a lot of blouse bits that time. We moved to Chennai next year and forget a Golu, we didn't have space for ourselves in our Chennai home. And of course the landlord banned Golus. He thought it was some sort of a Pagan routine. May he rot in hell. So the memory of Golu faded away. We grew up into handsome young men. Ok, I won't push it. We grew up and got busy with the vicissitudes of life. We got girls. We married. And now I have a feeling Suren's going to have a Golu next year. And guess what I am going to do next year? Yeah! You guessed it. Muted Killers at Suren's. Here we come!
Labels: anecdotes, slice of life
Add to:del.icio.us| Digg| Reddit| StumbleUpon| Technorati