The Tamizh month of Thai comes with promises of new beginnings. My grandmother always used to say, “Thai pirandhal Vazhi pirakkum”—when Thai arrives, new paths emerge. Pongal is not just a festival. It’s a connection to home and to a different time. A time when life was carefree, when simple acts nourished the soul, and joy didn’t come with a price tag.
My fondest memories of Pongal begin with Sakkarai Pongal. Bubbling in a mud pot over a stoked fire of fresh pieces of wood. The pot brimming with jaggery, filling the air with the richness of ghee. And then, sugarcane. Thick, juicy, and wonderfully messy. Sugarcane is a festival in itself. Chewing through it feels like embracing life’s natural sweetness, mess, shaff, and all.
These days, traditional festivals are more than just about food. They’re my tenuous link to my roots. They transport me back to memories of innocence, laughter, and togetherness. A quiet search for belonging, perhaps.
For those of us living far from home, these festivals become something more. They are no longer simply celebrations but yearnings—yearnings for the familiar sounds, smells, and sights of a life left behind. Pongal, like so many other traditions, brings with it a longing for a time and place that feels so close yet so far! It’s a reminder of where I come from, even as I navigate a different life filled with its own rhythms and routines.
It’s easy to stay blind to that longing. Life in a different home, with its own traditions, aromas, and sounds, is a new reality. A rich one at that. Yet, I can’t deny the reality of the longing. Dipping into nostalgia won’t change the reality of distance—of time and geography. But making the effort to celebrate, even in small ways, perhaps soothes the soul. Pongal made on a gas stove or shared in a simple gathering refreshes me beyond what the jaggery can.
These traditions dig deeper, clearing the confusion about the “why” of what I do every day. Sure, they can seem like symbolic motions. And yes, symbols can sometimes feel superficial. But not this one. This one puts a little spirit back into the soul. I don’t have a perfect answer if you ask me why that is. Perhaps, I don’t want to find out. Besides, I have some Pongal to dip into and sugarcane to chew on.
This year, I’ve reminded myself to carve out time. To pull out old pictures. To tuck into some Pongal. To relive the times gone by. Perhaps even to sit down and write. After all, holding on to these traditions, even in small ways, is like holding on to a part of yourself.
( Here’s something that I wrote in 2009. Something things done change. Even as change dances all around me).
