My Vishu

Yesterday was Vishu, the Malayali New Year. For some reason I felt disinclined to celebrate this time. Usually I love the whole rite of preparation that goes into Vishu. I love staying up late and setting out the ‘kani’ for the next day. I love the gorgeous golden konna flowers which symbolize both beauty and prosperity – may you have a golden year ahead, the profuse bunches seem to whisper as they adorn the ‘kani’. The vast array of fruits, vegetables, grains, pulses that are arranged in front of the Lord Krishna, the mirror that reflects back bounty, the gold jewellery and crisp notes for the ‘kaineettam’ arranged artfully on a silver platter – all need to be displayed just right so that when you bring the children to see the Vishu kani in the wee hours of the morning, the first sight that greets their sleep-laden eyes is this beautiful plethora of riches softly illuminated by the lit brass lamps. We then bless them with rice grains and place money in their little hands. The firecrackers are burst shortly afterwards and the children usually (at least mine!) run back to get some more sleep.

I found myself unable to summon the energy to look forward to Vishu this year. Perhaps it was the double drain of our getting two organizations to some sort of stable state financially. Perhaps it was the all-encompassing heat which rendered me tired even before the day began. Perhaps it was the fact that we usually go to Kerala to celebrate Vishu and I can feel like a child again for a while when there are elders around – here S and I have to be the ones giving the ‘kaineettam’ and  organizing the ‘kani’ – in Kerala, we would only help and we would start the day with blessings and best wishes heaped on us – the little grains of blessings would be in my hair for hours serving as a tangible reminder of the wishes and prayers that accompanied us albeit unexpressed for the most part on other days and at other times.

I told S I would not make a feast, I would not invite friends as was my wont when not in Kerala for Vishu because I was simply worn out and did not have any kind of inclination for celebration. He insisted we should do something for the kids so I agreed. Two days before the big day, we had an invite from an older couple to celebrate with a few families. I thought it was a good idea. We each had to bring a few dishes and we could relax and enjoy the banter and the great food. I felt better after the plan was in place but still found myself low on energy. We put together a rather lackadaisical ‘kani’ but perked it up with flowers and lit lamps so that the children could enjoy the sight. We went through the ritual of giving them their ‘kaineettam’ and then went back to our usual routine of morning walks and breakfasts. 

After preparing the dishes, we went to our gathering and instantly felt better for sharing the day with friends. Vishu was never about celebrating alone. Family is the biggest part of this festival and not having any family around who cared enough to come and spend the day with us was a big blow for me. I tried not to show the sadness but my husband could see it in my eyes whenever I sat quiet. He told me very clearly that everyone had a choice, for us it would always be each other and the children, together for the highs and lows. I was not to feel low but rather be grateful for what we had together. We would celebrate our special days with people who wanted to be with us, not with those who felt obliged to do so out of a sense of duty that carried no real feeling. 

The day went beautifully with laughter and lots of food. The children were doted upon for there were no others for them to compete with. We all exchanged wishes. We all sat together and served each other the ‘sadhya’. It was a lovely feeling to spend the day as part of a large family. I could see that everyone was lonely in their own way whether it was the generous couple who opened their home and hearts to us or the mother and daughter who were used to spending their festivals with only each other for company since the father worked abroad and could visit only a few times a year or the other couple whose only child was now married and living in the Gulf. The magic of being in a group cheered everyone and we all agreed that the day was a great success.

Getting home in the evening, we felt replete with the wonderful food and the heartfelt wishes. This year’s Vishu surprised me with its beauty – it felt like there was someone looking out for me, and it filled me with renewed hope and anticipation for the year ahead. Here’s to more Vishus filled with joy and harmony…