Kerala celebrates the Onam festival
4 September 2024
Around August and September, ticket prices to airports in Kerala skyrocket, largely driven by an influx from the UAE. Clothing shops flaunt gold-tinged sarees and mundus in prime spots. A month prior, rowers across the state rise at 5am, honing their skills. What fuels this fervour in God's Own Country? The eagerly awaited festival of Onam. The ten-day celebration will unfold from the 6th to the 15th of September this year.
Why does this festival hold such sway over the Malayali heart?
The origins of Onam are anchored in myth, from a time when gods and demons walked the earth. Under the rule of King Mahabali, a demon king whose virtue eclipsed even the gods, Kerala basked in prosperity. His reign was so golden that it unsettled the heavens, prompting the gods to seek intervention from Lord Vishnu. Disguised as a commoner, Vishnu approached Mahabali with a simple request: as much land as he could cover in three steps. King Mahabali agreed, at which point the commoner expanded to cosmic proportions, claiming the earth and the sky in two steps. True to his word, Mahabali surrendered his crown for the third step and was consigned to the netherworld. Yet, Vishnu, touched by Mahabali’s unwavering righteousness, granted him a boon: to return once a year to visit his people, and so Onam was born—a festival of return and renewal.
Onam also coincides with the arrival of Chingam, the harvest season. With 55 percent of Kerala’s land devoted to agriculture and more than half of its population engaged in farming, Chingam is a season that resonates deeply across the state. Granaries overflow with fresh harvests, homes and farms are spruced up, and the land's bounty is celebrated with grand feasts and festivities.
More than the origin, it is the unanimous celebration of the festival that makes it so special. Despite its roots in Hindu mythology, Onam is a festival all Keralites embrace.
Across Kerala, colourful flowers overflow in the baskets of vendors; flowers that will eventually find their way into the courtyards. Pookalam is a combination of the words ‘Poovu’ meaning flowers and ‘Kalam’ translating to art. On Atham, the first day of the festival, a simple design using thumba (white ornamental flowers), is seen. As the day passes, other vibrant coloured flowers are layered in concentric circles to form intricate designs as a welcome to King Mahabali.
At the heart of the Pookalam, a traditional brass lamp, the Nilavilakku, is placed. Women clad in Kasavu sarees—traditional off-white garments bordered with gold—dance gracefully around the Pookalam in a performance known as Thiruvathirakali. Their movements, synchronized to the rhythm of folk songs, embody the grace and joy of the festival.
Another iconic spectacle is the Chenda Melam, a traditional percussion performance that reverberates through homes, temples, community clubs and educational institutions. Men, dressed in mundu, gather to play the Chenda, a cultural practice over 300 years old, and an enduring highlight of Kerala’s festival scene.
Pulikali and Kummattikali are also performed by men across Kerala, especially in Thrissur. Pulikali, where men painted as tigers prowl the streets, dancing to rhythmic beats, draws large crowds. Kummattikkali, on the other hand, sees men clad in grass-like costumes and masks of gods moving from house to house from Uthradam’s first day to the fourth day of Onam. These performances, rich in tradition and spirit, are particularly cherished in Thrissur, where the oldest forms of Kummattikkali have been passed down.
Along with floral scents and celebratory beats, a sportive spirit is also present. On the banks of the river Pamba in Alappuzha (or Alleppey, famous for its boathouses and languidly scenic backwaters), a 100 feet long boat with a stern that looks like the head of a majestic snake-like creature seats a group of 60 men (and recently women). It is the beginning of the Vallam Kali (Snake boat race) and the mix of competitive and celebratory energy is palpable. A small group of men on the boat yell out rhythmic chants called Vanchipattu and set the cadence for the rowing race ahead.
No matter where they live, people report to their village rowing clubs to train. From waking up at 5am for training to following a strict diet, the rowers train for months. Hearts and souls go into the race, and as the roaring cheers of the visitors meet the rhythms of the Vanchipattu, the true essence of Vallam Kali is felt.
On a smaller scale, people across Kerala engage in a game of tug of war. This game is equally popular among women as well. While they pay attention to their graceful drapes of Kasavu and the flowers on their hair throughout the day, it becomes hands-on and the gentle grace goes out the window.
Another hallmark of this festival is the feast – Onam Sadhya. While a traditional Sadhya usually has around 26 vegetarian dishes on a banana leaf, the number of dishes can change depending on how elaborate they are. Prepared with fresh produce, each dish has a unique flavour profile and a designated spot on the leaf. The whole process is so intricate; there is a correct direction to place the leaf and the order it is served.
The narrow tip of the leaf is towards your left and the condiments, relishes and small bites. On the top half of the banana leaf are the dry items like chena chops (fried yams) and thoran (shredded cabbage sauteed with mustard, grated coconut and dry chillies). On the bottom half, towards the right, are the heavyweights and gravy dishes like boiled red rice, sambar and rasam. This placement allows you to ensure that the gravies do not fall off the leaf. When it comes to eating there are no rules, you use your hand to mix and match a variety of dishes and simply devour the meal. Some of the other dishes include injipuli (a tangy relish made with tamarind and jaggery), fried pappadams, avial (a thick stew made of mixed veggies), pulissery (a curd-based curry), sharkara varatti (deep fried raw banana coated in jaggery) and ada pradhaman (a type of dessert). Filled with a variety of flavours and textures, the Sadhya is a feast that not only satisfies the appetite but also nourishes the soul, a fitting culmination to the season of abundance.
For those far from Kerala’s shores, there are still ways to partake in this experience. Consider booking at one of these venues:
• Auckland Malayali Samajam
• Saffron Restaurant Manukau
• Whangarei Malayalee Association
• Kerala Cultural Forum, Christchurch
• Wellington Malayalee Association
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