Surangi, The Child Bride

Part 19

"Wait for me, I am coming too!" Surangi called out, chasing Madhav and Waman, balancing the woven basket that was meant to carry back vegetables for the main meal for Ganesh Chaturthi. The Ganesh idol, whose pitambar or loin cloth was painted in the traditional yellow, had been diligently installed with the ritual of Praan Pratishtha. First thing in the morning Chandri had dropped off the pink coloured blossoms of the sacred lotus, which she had plucked from the pond next to her home.It was up to the children to gather the other obligatory flowers and patri or herbs for the puja, including the lush green durva grass, tulshi leaves, red hibiscus flowers, marigolds and the fragrant ketaki or pandanus. With Gaju nestled in her lap Vidya enthusiastically strung the marigold garlands while the children put together bundles of 21 blades of trefoil or durva. Vidya was happy to be in her father's home for the festival, she had fond memories of it from her childhood days. 

The monsoon had caused the taro patch next to the well to become overgrown with heart shaped waterproof leaves. Droplets of rainwater formed globular beads on them and rolled off without wetting the surface of the leaves. Every corm originally planted in the patch had been meticulously verified by grandmother to ensure that their leaves carried negligible amounts of oxalate, to minimise the risk of itching or irritation in the diner's mouth. To make doubly sure the taro tops were always cooked with an acidic ingredient such as tamarind or kokum rinds. The boys snipped off enough leaves for the kitchen, dropping them into the basket held by Surangi. Because the corms were left unharmed beneath the earth they would soon sprout new leaves as water was plentiful during the season.

Their next stop was the vegetable garden to procure the tart ambade or hog plums. The gardner helped them collect as many of these as the children desired. These were everyone's favourite, whether cooked with taro tops or pickled in brine. They also collected the pale green monsoon okra and yardlong beans before returning the basket laden with produce to the kitchen where it was swiftly dealt with so that the ceremonial meal could be readied in time. There was great excitement over the day's lunch which would have something stewed like the taro and lentils, something sauted like the beans and okra, something steamed like the coconut and jaggery filled modaks and something fried like the vegetable fritters and crisp wheat wafers called kurdai and the spiced pohe mirgund. It was a meal to look forward to.

While the men were busy performing the puja the women used their expertise to slice, chop, grate, and knead the ingredients to get the food sizzling on the stove. Surangi helped to shell tender peanut pods and corn kernels to be cooked with the taro tops. On other days jackfruit seeds would be included in the recipe but today cashewnuts took the place of pride, with a touch of tamarind and jaggery adding a sweet sour touch to the dish. Batch after batch of modaks were being steamed so that apart from the offering of 21 modaks to Ganpati there would still be enough for everyone. The boys and men would compete in polishing off as many modaks as they could. It took great skill and experience to shape the perfect modak, with the right amount of filling in the centre and and the translucent thin rice dough skin folded artfully into tiny pleats sealed together in the centre. Warm ghee would be drizzled over the top before eating a modak.

The men asked the family members to assemble for the aarti, a ritual performed twice a day in which everyone had to participate. During this a special lamp with five burning wicks of ghee and camphor is offered to the deity. The wicks symbolise the five Hindu elements- space, wind, fire, water and earth. This is accompanied by the singing of lyrical verses set against rhythmic clapping and the playing of taal or cymbals. The first aarti sukhkarta-dukhharta- dedicated to Ganpati  and the next one dedicated to Shiva were composed by Samarth Ramdas, a 17th century revered saint poet of Maharashtra. While the singing of the many aartis is an expression of spiritual solidarity, the skill of the singers fluctuated dramatically depending on the singer's prowess. Though the tunes were simple and familiar someone invariably sang off key or bungled up the words, turning the solemn situation either comical or mildly annoying. 

Surangi took care to recite the aarti in a barely audible, diffident tone, she often mispronounced big words that she barely understood the meanings of and a couple of times Madhav had caught her eye silently admonishing her for her mistakes. She never understood why it was necessary for the poet to weave in unnecessary expressions such as "pivlaa pitambar" where the word yellow describing the garment in question was implied twice. She was relieved when they sang the Namdev Bhajan "Ghaalin lotaangan", it was the last composition to be sung before the chanting of the Mantra Pushpanjali (sacred offering of flowers). Suddenly even the ones who merely moved their mouths without uttering much put extra vigour in the chant of Hare Raam during the Bhajan, looking forward to the delicious meal awaiting them.

The flame of the sacred aarti was offered to everyone present and people moved their palms over the flame in acceptance of the blessing. The women then retreated back to the kitchen to commence service of the pangat (banquet). The children placed neat rows of banana leaves and hurried to place all the accompaniments and mains in their respective spaces on the leaf plates. When she finally sat down to the pleasant business of tucking into the festive lunch Surangi was unsure where to begin, her perpetual favourites were the modak and the fried kurdai although it was obligatory to finish everything on the leaf as the food was consecrated. She avoided taking second helpings of the usal of dalimbi beans which were notorious for causing flatulence. She would rather perish than risk breaking wind unwittingly, she could never look Madhav in the eye again if she did. She was not as brazen as Waman who would fart without any inhibitions if he had to. Instead she concentrated on the cashewnuts and tangy ambade that Sharayu had generously heaped into her bowl of taro. 

The Ganpati celebrations in her natal home had always been demure and Surangi thoroughly enjoyed the generosity that the Oak family exhibited on all occasions. "Marry your daughter off to a wealthy family but seek a daughter-in-law from a modest one" was the custom of the day and fortunately Surangi was not old enough to be sensitive to the difference of means between the two households, nor did her marital family ever make her conscious of it. Her father's judgement had been quite sound when he paid scant attention to cautionary warnings of others before marrying Surangi off young, because he was sure his daughter would be treated by the Oaks as one of their own. Though Surangi did miss her deceased mother now and then she gave heartfelt thanks to Ganpati for having blessed her with affectionate in-laws. She got along well with almost everyone, specially Waman and Vidya, though she kept a respectful distance from grandmother. And of course, she was still unsure of how she felt about her husband Madhav.