Vishu… the Keralite people’s New Year, is something to look forward to, as it is with every festival. Even though we all have to wake up in the god-awful early hours of morning, this is made bearable with the viewing of the “Vishu Kani“, everyone’s auspicious first sight of the day, that is said have an effect on their entire year. The Vishu Kani, is prepared by the oldest woman in the household. It consists an arrangement of various fruits and vegetables; some articles of gold; the kanni konna, yellow flowers that bloom only during that particular period of the year. All this will be arranged around a statue of Lord Krishna, brightened by the little oil lamps.

The other hand, however, is brimming with cash to an extent that the wee little ones, fall into a coma just thinking about their supply of chocolates, the money can and will fund for at least a month. For the older siblings, it is more fun to watch our Grandparents’ morose faces, as they shake their empty wallets free of dust, after handing out “vishu kaineetam” to their kids, their grand kids and their great-grand kids, along with assorted family members who fall on to their laps at that time of the year…

The tale I would like to impart is one that happened six years ago to the date… when, one has extremely “bright ideas” that somehow seem to pop up in one’s sleep, where in you have to execute it!!! That particular year, during Vishu, I invited my best friends for, what I had described, almost feverishly, as the best feasting time they could ever have…

So the day dawns, my brother and I are grinning maniacally from the loot we have collected from our elders, and my friends descend. Now, in normal occasions, food is generally laid out and guests can pick and choose whatever they deem best for themselves. The problem they, being my friends, encountered was that, all the food my mother had madly prepared like it was the last meal we all would ever have, was already served on the banana leaves. Yes, you read right, we eat out of banana leaves, on special occasions. A bit daunted at first though, at my encouragement, they were game.

There are usually 24 different types of dishes served in a proper Keralite meal. So we are, all sitting down to a banana leaf each, served up to the full capacity. At my mother’s prompting, my friends rearranged their expressions of disbelief and started the meal. First came the serving of rice and parippu (green gram) curry; then rice and sambhar (mixed vegetable stew), along with the various home-made pickles, thorans (dry vegetable dishes) , avial (spicy, steamed mixed vegetables) etc. By then they were already clutching their stomachs as though they had been poisoned, and dessert had not even been brought out yet! Speaking of desserts, there are three servings of that too, different kinds of desserts. First came the Ada Pradhaman, then Semiya (vermicelli) payasam with Boli (puran poli), and at last the Kadala (chick peas) payasam. Now, we being used to the serving methods, eat a little of everything. My friends, however, ate rice and the curries to such an extent, that when they saw the desserts being laid out, actually turned a slight shade of green. Looking at that, my mother, thinking that she was helping, offered them buttermilk. I think it was all they could have done not to have leapt up from their seats and run away… screaming!

They politely declined the offer for anymore food (or drinks), and slowly made their way to my room. By the time I made it to my room, after being done clearing the table and storing the dishes away, they were fast asleep, and probably even having foodie nightmares. With much difficulty, I roused them awake, and took them out for a walk and of course, them being the best friends, cursed at me with such vehemence, I was sure even the most evil of witches, would have fainted at their tone, (I still think those curses haven’t burnt out yet). After much whimpering and said cursing, we managed to burn quite a bit of the letharginess away, and upon reaching home, they had made me solemnly swear that I was not going to offer them anything at all, to drink, eat, nibble, anything. and failing got do so would conclude in my immediate demise. Which made me think “Now how the heck am I supposed to break the news about the little parcels my mother prepared for them to take home?”

Well… they didn’t bite my head off, (or hang me by my legs off the balcony), but was at the receiving end of extremely dirty looks. However, six years later, we look back and laugh outrageously at that situation and our innocence, for, it was some of the last ever festivals we had celebrated together, before parting our separate ways to pursue our future. So, Amruta and Yashashree, thank you both very much for the memories of the unforgettable groaning fe-a-st.