Sushradhamasthu

Chandanam thrice, water once, all put together thrice.... their Othikkon (the Priest  in helping them perform the annual rites), takes them through the various steps as he slowly partakes the sumptuous meal solemnly offered to him in plantain leaf as part of the ritual. Three sets of offerings facing South, one for the three brothers together, the other two for the two sisters and one facing east for the other sister are arranged and rites performed in tandem. Maternal uncle, who was meticulously watching the offerings to his beloved sister,  comments : "Don't be stingy about offering water as the departed are very thirsty".

The Priest adds "Their one day is our One Year!" They visit you this day every year to see you all and to enquire about your well being." Years passed by after the departure of their beloved father and  mother, the personification of Love, now the missing links of a well-knit family. The death anniversary of mother falls first although Father left them for heavenly abode much earlier, perhaps the former is more anxious to see her children!.

Putting the 4G to shame, his memory flew past a few decades. He lay prostate on the feet of his father and mother. A few drops of warm tear fell on his back as he was getting up with their trembling hands on his head profusely blessing him and praying the Almighty to bestow the very best on him. Bidding a painful farewell to his brothers and sisters, he began to stride forward, his first journey outside the village to the great city of Bombay (now Mumbai)  to eke out a living.  A few steps ahead he was received by  the Kamadhenu of their family, under the control of Kuttan, more a member of the family than a servant;  a pre-arranged setting  to prevent him from coming across any ominous person, a belief strongly followed by the innocent villagers! A few yards farther, the closest of his friends was waiting by the roadside, sunken face, tears rolling down her cheeks, but putting on a half smile, perhaps to minimise his sorrow and in the hope that he was leaving for his betterment. Speechless as he was, he waived his hand and she too waived slowly. He began to walk briskly. 

     

During his 36 hour long not-so-comfortable train journey through the green and arid lands in turn, he was only thinking of his dear ones, the beauty of his village surrounded by the rivers on two sides, his home situated on a hillock, the valley with golden paddy fields ready to be cropped. the folk music of the farmers, the fragrance of rose, jasmine and other flowers from the garden, so meticulously landsacped by him in front of the house, the soothing music from the fountain in the centre. He remembered the silent affirmation from Amma and his youngsters that they would look after his garden. In between he managed to swallow the foodstuff prepared by Amma taking extra care to prevent them from being spoiled and so lovingly packed and handed to him by his father. Several small and big railway stations passed by with the hawkers breaking the chain of his sweet dreams by their loud shouts. At last the train reached its final destination, the Victoria Terminus now (CST). He carried the heavy suitcase which contained mainly food items to be delivered to known and unknown Keralites living in Mumbai, and moved towards the door where he was received by his elder brother. His real journey began here, the urbs prima in Indis.

"Dreaming?" The Priest raised his eyebrows. "Let us now invite her soul to the Earth. Take chandanam, ritual flower etc. together, hold them in both hands, move the hands upward and gradually bring them down in a semi circle, like this (his action was lucid), thrice. Empty the hands at the head of the grass bed. Fold the hands downward and pray, wash your hands and get up. Now your younger brother, let him repeat all these".  The Priest  resumed to relish the meal. 

With the help of his younger brother, he got up from the step stool as he can no longer sit on the Padmasana,  sat on  the chair nearby and attempted to watch the proceedings. Yet, he was unable to concentrate and began slowly slipping into his past. 

Decades  passed,  as if in a jiffy. Several events, important and frivolous alike, flew past like in a movie. It was very vivid in his mind the first job he got with the recommendation of his first cousin in a multinational company at rupees eight per day while he was still in his teens. On attainment of 18, he got a regular job in a factory office, the first step forward to a steady growth in his career. His disappointment over not getting opportunity to have a decent education, not because he was not good at studies, but perhaps vissisitudes of life had a say over it, began to surface as he progressed in his employment. His insatiable thirst to improve his educational background helped him attain a bachelor's degree though against several odds and subsequently post-graduation too.  

   

"Now let the ladies also continue. Someone of you please help them", the clear cut instructions of the Priest  fell on his ears and he woke up again, which was noticed by his uncle who quipped "you should not get lost in dreams when rites are performed and your mother is watching you". The very fact that he was  seeing his parents and their good deeds, through the inner eye, who knows?

He again began to travel down the lanes of memory. Scarcity of funds and inadequacy of privilege leave prevented him from frequent visits to his home far away. He once told his friends during a Sunday get-together about his much awaited  travel to join his parents and siblings on the occasion of his sister's marriage. He said "as the train was late by around 6 hours and the connecting bus departed in time, I was hapless and wept seeing the marriage party crossing him half way,  walking back  after the function  although I walked as fast as possible with the suitcase in hand, at times on head, to have a glimse of the marriage".    

Life continued to flow like a river with interruptions like check dams   and inundation. A joyful event was that his beloved joined him  and they together moved the Wheel slowly but steadily. They were blessed with a boy and girl who where given enough education so that they would be one-up  their parents. With God's grace, they are well-placed.

"Now it is your turn brother and then your younger brothers", said the Priest. Suddenly he got up from the chair, now fully awake. "Let us complete the rites one by one and send your mother's Atma back to where it belongs". To this end, he gave them step-by-step instructions. Holding together  the pooja flowers, sesame seeds, sandle paste and water with both hands one after the other they threw them upward reverently  and said adieu to her until the same day next year.   

Under the instructions of the Priest, the daughters also completed the rites and sent Amma's Atma to heaven. By this time, the Priest  has completed the holy meals, washed his hands and sat down. He was offered traditional gifts and  upon his request all the participants stood down and he blessed them with his palms raising towards them and saying Sushradhamasthu.  

 As  I lay prostrate in remembrance of my parents, a sob escaped me.  For a moment, I  felt I was lying like a child on their laps and they were caressing my hair affectionately.