Years back, when my friend Maya invited me to accompany her to perform Pongala, I had agreed out of sheer curiosity. I had only heard of Pongala till then.After years of gallivanting along the length and breadth of India, when I returned to Trivandrum, it was Maya, with her kindness, grace and warmth, who had given me the most enduring moral support.So it was a given that I would accompany her to her aunt's place at Manacaud, to partake of the festival and express solidarity with the lakhs of women performing this holy ritual on an auspicious day which marks the culmination of the nine day festival of the temple..
We had to walk for miles and miles. For some 5 kilometres around the temple, the whole area was cordoned off , preventing all vehicular traffic.Rows and rows of bricks arranged in triangular fashion sported earthen ware pots in which would be cooked the offering. There was no distinction between the rich and the poor- all were equal in front of the Goddess, bound by an invisible bond of devotion to the Goddess. As we all kept waiting, the priest lit the main kiln in the temple at an auspicious moment. This was the signal for all of us to kindle the fire and start preparing pongala- a concoction of rice, jaggery,coconut, bananas, ghee and dry fruits. The brave hearts amongst us experimented and came up with so many innovative varieties but Maya and I stuck to the usual sweet one. We fasted for the whole day and broke our fast only when the priest sprinkled holy water upon our offering. Afterwards we partook of the sumptuous feast generously offered by the lady of the house to all those who had accepted her hospitality and usurped every nook and corner of her vast compound.
A few times, we had even ventured into the temple, braving the scorching heat and the serpentine queues, to have a glimpse of the deity.Though it is a festival for the ladies, men also took an active part, mostly as volunteers, helping in the arrangements, offering water, lemon juice, buttermilk and meals to the devotees.Altogether, an unforgettable experience that made us feel elated.
After years of offering pongala together, Maya and I had to part ways, as her husband's transfer to Delhi took her away to the capital city. Now I don't go to Manacaud to perform the ritual. Instead I do it at home, in my own compound. I do it because, like thousands of other women, I too have turned into a devotee of Attukal Devi. Also because it signifies a togetherness never before felt or seen. Besides, in my mind, this festival is inextricably tied up with a rare friendship, unhampered by jealousy, rivalry, selfishness and all other baser emotions. It is this friendship that I celebrate as I perform this ritual year after year..
