Do you know what Onam is? Do YOU know what pookalam is? Of course not. You are steeped in ignorance and have no education. I, on the other hand, having learned what these things are a week ago, am sophisticated and worldly. Come, little grasshopper. I shall explain.
Our little family, as usual, was late getting to their apartment. Really late.
"Hello, hello! Oh Gof you're all here already. I'm sorry. We are sorry, " I said, coming through the door.
Alex came in after me. "Sorry, hi everyone. Sorry." We are often sorry, because we are often late. "Hello, and sorry. Sorry. Hello," we said. Actually mostly I said sorry, in hopes of being endearing. Alex is less stupid. But I digress. And so soon, too.
We were at Nayana and Tamas' home. Nayana and her friend Geetha, who hail from Kerala in India, were celebrating Onam. As sophisticated people know from frantically reading Wikipedia beforehand, this is a Hindu festival that falls around nowish, celebrates the harvest, and involves pookalams and special food.
By the time Alex and I arrived with Noodle on her push bar tricycle, everyone else was already there. The table was set, and also covered with food (that smelled divine). Everyone leapt to their feet as we came through the door, apparently starving.
On the floor of the entrance was the pookalam, which I, in my as yet unenlightened state, did not recognize. "What pretty flowers," I said.
"I did the design," said our friend Louise. She is not Indian, but her work looked very authentic to my sophisticated and expert eye.
"Right, please gather," said Nayana, before my child had time to even clamber down from her tricycle. All nine of us gathered. Well, 10 if you count the dog. You could almost hear the stomaches rumbling. ("So, so sorry," I whispered.)
She continued: "Now I will tell you all the story. Geetha, I want no interruptions to correct historical inaccuracies." We looked at Geetha. Geetha seemed prepared to correct historical inaccuracies.
The story is this. There was once a king called pause for Google search Mahabali who was wonderful and therefore beloved. He was so popular that the "lead God," Google reminds me his name is Vishnu, decided to take action. He disguised himself as a dwarf...
"No, a small boy," Geetha said.
"...a dwarf or a small boy," said Nayana. "Divergent narratives. In any case he was very small."
"Not all small people are dwarfs," said Louise, who has Views. Often from below.*
Nayana said, "Anyway..."
So Vishnu disguised as a person of short stature appears in front of the great and good king Mahabali and says he has heard that the king is very charitable, so would he please grant him (little Vishnu) a favor. The king, being lovely, says he of course will. The small person then asks if the King will grant him (the short one) as much land as he can cross in three steps. The King, ever kind, tells the little person that he has short legs so perhaps he'd like to define a slightly larger gift for himself. The little boy/dwarf says no, three steps is fine.
But, in what theologians are calling "a classic divine bait-and-switch", Vishnu then resumes his leggy god size and proceeds to cross all the earth with his first step and then heaven with the second step. At this juncture, Vishnu helpfully informs the king that pretty much all available surfaces were covered by the first two steps. King Mahabali, a proper bleeding heart if ever there was one, tells Vishnu to then please step on the king's own royal head with the third step. Vishnu triumphantly steps on King Mahabali, pushing him down into the underworld.
However, because the King is a really good person who worked hard all his life he is allowed to leave for a couple days a year during the harvest festival and check on the folks back home. Apparently the Hindu underworld and the American service industry have similar vacation policies. Anyway, because the people of Kerala love their king so, to this day they welcome him with pookalams and have a giant vegetarian feast to demonstrate how prosperous and happy they are. This is Onam.
The story over, all nine of us proceeded to the dining table where we descended like locusts upon a vast array of absurdly delicious dishes.
"If you see anything that looks like a green chilli and you don't like chillies, don't eat it," warned Geetha.
"Especially you," Nayana said to our friend Milica. Milica, I learned, was wary of chillies that might be lurking in the curry like tiny, cruel crocodiles. Her caution was based on a recent personal experience.
Milica explained, "I noticed the chilli first because the left side of my face was on fire, so I moved it to the right side, which was on fire, and then I didn't know what to do so I swallowed it. Big mistake. My stomach was like fzzfff..BOOOM." She made a little mushroom cloud with her hands. Upon receipt of this anecdote I started sifting my own plate for suspicious green capsicums.
I didn't find any, though. It was all so delicious we didn't speak to each other. There were fifteen minutes of determined chomping.
And for dessert there was super sweet, cardamom-flavored milky rice dish topped with cashews and raisins that had been fried in butter. It was epic. McNoodle first ate a whole serving and then had half of Alex's.
How fortifying was this lunch, you ask?
The Noodle and I came home (Alex had to go somewhere else for work) and this little girl...drumroll please...walked. WALKED! No hands! First one step, then two, and then she was doing six or seven at once before collapsing with laughter.
So thank you, Nayana, Tamas and Geetha. And thanks, King Mahabali. You are inextricably linked to my little girl's first steps. I hope her legs take her across the earth and the heavens, but I can pretty much promise she'll never step on your head.
*******
Re: This video, sorry it's vertical (I was scurrying backwards on my butt and somehow failed to turn my phone), and also please excuse my extremely overenthusiastic voice. Best to just turn off the sound on this one, really.
*I LOVE YOU LOUISE
 |
| Our fine hostess, cooking. |
Our little family, as usual, was late getting to their apartment. Really late.
"Hello, hello! Oh Gof you're all here already. I'm sorry. We are sorry, " I said, coming through the door.
Alex came in after me. "Sorry, hi everyone. Sorry." We are often sorry, because we are often late. "Hello, and sorry. Sorry. Hello," we said. Actually mostly I said sorry, in hopes of being endearing. Alex is less stupid. But I digress. And so soon, too.
We were at Nayana and Tamas' home. Nayana and her friend Geetha, who hail from Kerala in India, were celebrating Onam. As sophisticated people know from frantically reading Wikipedia beforehand, this is a Hindu festival that falls around nowish, celebrates the harvest, and involves pookalams and special food.
By the time Alex and I arrived with Noodle on her push bar tricycle, everyone else was already there. The table was set, and also covered with food (that smelled divine). Everyone leapt to their feet as we came through the door, apparently starving.
On the floor of the entrance was the pookalam, which I, in my as yet unenlightened state, did not recognize. "What pretty flowers," I said.
 |
| This is a pookalam, you ignoramus. Thanks for the photo, Milica! |
"Right, please gather," said Nayana, before my child had time to even clamber down from her tricycle. All nine of us gathered. Well, 10 if you count the dog. You could almost hear the stomaches rumbling. ("So, so sorry," I whispered.)
She continued: "Now I will tell you all the story. Geetha, I want no interruptions to correct historical inaccuracies." We looked at Geetha. Geetha seemed prepared to correct historical inaccuracies.
 |
| Noodle and the chefs and Onam experts Nayana and Geetha |
The story is this. There was once a king called pause for Google search Mahabali who was wonderful and therefore beloved. He was so popular that the "lead God," Google reminds me his name is Vishnu, decided to take action. He disguised himself as a dwarf...
"No, a small boy," Geetha said.
"...a dwarf or a small boy," said Nayana. "Divergent narratives. In any case he was very small."
"Not all small people are dwarfs," said Louise, who has Views. Often from below.*
Nayana said, "Anyway..."
So Vishnu disguised as a person of short stature appears in front of the great and good king Mahabali and says he has heard that the king is very charitable, so would he please grant him (little Vishnu) a favor. The king, being lovely, says he of course will. The small person then asks if the King will grant him (the short one) as much land as he can cross in three steps. The King, ever kind, tells the little person that he has short legs so perhaps he'd like to define a slightly larger gift for himself. The little boy/dwarf says no, three steps is fine.
 |
| Team Eaters, minus me, Alex and the Noodle. And the dog. L-R: Milica, Tamas, Louise and Markus |
But, in what theologians are calling "a classic divine bait-and-switch", Vishnu then resumes his leggy god size and proceeds to cross all the earth with his first step and then heaven with the second step. At this juncture, Vishnu helpfully informs the king that pretty much all available surfaces were covered by the first two steps. King Mahabali, a proper bleeding heart if ever there was one, tells Vishnu to then please step on the king's own royal head with the third step. Vishnu triumphantly steps on King Mahabali, pushing him down into the underworld.
However, because the King is a really good person who worked hard all his life he is allowed to leave for a couple days a year during the harvest festival and check on the folks back home. Apparently the Hindu underworld and the American service industry have similar vacation policies. Anyway, because the people of Kerala love their king so, to this day they welcome him with pookalams and have a giant vegetarian feast to demonstrate how prosperous and happy they are. This is Onam.
The story over, all nine of us proceeded to the dining table where we descended like locusts upon a vast array of absurdly delicious dishes.
"If you see anything that looks like a green chilli and you don't like chillies, don't eat it," warned Geetha.
 |
| No chillies in the dessert |
"Especially you," Nayana said to our friend Milica. Milica, I learned, was wary of chillies that might be lurking in the curry like tiny, cruel crocodiles. Her caution was based on a recent personal experience.
Milica explained, "I noticed the chilli first because the left side of my face was on fire, so I moved it to the right side, which was on fire, and then I didn't know what to do so I swallowed it. Big mistake. My stomach was like fzzfff..BOOOM." She made a little mushroom cloud with her hands. Upon receipt of this anecdote I started sifting my own plate for suspicious green capsicums.
I didn't find any, though. It was all so delicious we didn't speak to each other. There were fifteen minutes of determined chomping.
 |
| Pretty much Miss Noodle's favourite food. |
And for dessert there was super sweet, cardamom-flavored milky rice dish topped with cashews and raisins that had been fried in butter. It was epic. McNoodle first ate a whole serving and then had half of Alex's.
How fortifying was this lunch, you ask?
The Noodle and I came home (Alex had to go somewhere else for work) and this little girl...drumroll please...walked. WALKED! No hands! First one step, then two, and then she was doing six or seven at once before collapsing with laughter.
So thank you, Nayana, Tamas and Geetha. And thanks, King Mahabali. You are inextricably linked to my little girl's first steps. I hope her legs take her across the earth and the heavens, but I can pretty much promise she'll never step on your head.
*******
Re: This video, sorry it's vertical (I was scurrying backwards on my butt and somehow failed to turn my phone), and also please excuse my extremely overenthusiastic voice. Best to just turn off the sound on this one, really.
*I LOVE YOU LOUISE
