I visited my mum for Pongal last week, not at her condominium, but at her final resting home.

Pongal was an important celebration for my mum. It marked the beginning of the Thai month, which I, for the longest time thought, was the first month of the Indian calendar. Mainly as it falls in January, which is the first month of the Gregorian calendar.

Duh… I should have known or at least checked especially as the Indian New Year is in April, the obvious or maybe not so obvious to me, first month of the Indian calendar😊. Anyways, Thai Pongal happens in the 10^th month of the Indian calendar.

My mum observed most, if not all, of the celebrations listed in the Indian calendar. During her younger and more able days, she began her day earlier than her usual 5am’ish to prepare for each celebration. She did her to-do list a few days earlier just to get a jump start on the actual day.

Hair wash. Tidy the altar. Make a vegetarian meal of dhal, vegetables and rice for the family. She’d cook her ‘Pongal’ or sweet rice for the evening prayer always in the afternoon. The evening prayer was timed for between dusk and nightfall. For this, my mum required brother number 1, to deliver/supply a large banana leaf, with no rips or tears. Where from? That was brother number 1’s job to find a banana tree with leaves that passed my mum’s muster. And buy betel leaves, betel nuts, and bananas of the ‘pisang emas’ variety for the evening prayer.

The banana leaf had to be placed in a particular direction, I always forget which. It served as the vessel on which she laid all the constituents for the prayer at the altar. The Pongal rice in the centre. On the left-and-right hand corners she sat the bananas (usually odd numbers) on the betel leaves and betel nuts. Lit incense sticks were stuck into the bananas. There were usually nine incense sticks. There were also an oil lamp, camphor, prayer ash, and a tumbler of water.

My memory is a little hazy but when my dad was alive, my mum would set everything up, and he would initiate the prayer. Followed by my mum, and us lot i.e. my six siblings, in chronological order. After my dad passed, my mum took the lead, then her children, in-laws, grandchildren and whomever was present, in age order. She also blessed the house. My mum then shared the offerings placed at the altar with all of us. More food appeared from the kitchen, and we would sit, chat and savour what she had put together. That was how I remember it.

As the years passed, and after she moved into her own condominium, Deepavali was, I think, the only festival that was fully attended by brother number 1 and 2 and their families, my husband and I, and sister number 3, who timed her annual visit home for this special occasion, which was also my mum’s favourite.

For the other Indian festivals like the New Year or ‘Puthandu,’ Ganesha Pooja, and ‘Kartigai’ (a three-day festival when oil lamps are lit in and around the house), attendance varied depending on work and school schedules, traffic (evening prayers coincided with peak traffic in the city centre, which is where my mum’s condo is still located) and general availability especially as these festivals are not public holidays. Only Deepavali and Thaipusam are.

That said, the festivals continued to be important to my mum even after she became easily more tired, and less steady. She knew the dates of the various celebrations from the calendar that hung by her bedside. It was only after she became unwell and reliant that I, yes, me, took over making Pongal rice for most of the Indian festivals, and ‘Mothagam’ for Ganesha Pooja. And, even Deepavali cakes during one of the Covid years.

I’m not keen nor good at any of these cooking stuff but like ‘they’ say when needs must, I stepped up to the stove and oven, and did what I had to do. During those times, the number of attendees dwindled to four (could be the ‘chef’😊). My mum, my husband and I, and Kalyani, my mum’s carer.

I have always wondered and have asked my mum many times about the many man-made rituals/ practices related to the many Indian celebrations. I’m not sure about a lot of stuff that people follow and do. The relevance and significance escaped me, and continue to escape me. Anyways, I followed and did the rituals/practices/preps for and because of my mum.

At Pongal, I thought of the attention to detail my mum placed on preparing for the celebration. Meticulous and precise. How it was all so important to her. That’s what I will remember at every Indian festival.

Following and doing, not so much.