ONE morning in January there was an unusual stir in the village of Kelambakam. The Pongal, the national feast of the Hindus, was to be celebrated on that day. For some days before, the inhabitants of the village, both male and female, were busy making preparations for the coming feast. Damages caused to houses during the recent rainy season were duly repaired, and the women were engaged up to the previous day in plastering the mud walls and the men in harvesting a portion of their crops, getting the grain husked, and making everything ready for the important feast. New faces were seen at the time in the village. Young men who had married girls from Kelambakam arrived in time to enjoy the feast in the houses of their fathers-in-law. On the morning of the feast day, the women were up betimes and were busily engaged at all sorts of work. Some were seen cleaning the floor with cow- dung solution and drawing quaint figures with powdered chalk ; some dusting the roofs of houses and cleaning old pots, and others decking door-posts with saffron and the red powder called kunkumam and putting strings of mango leaves over the doorways. Little girls were seen in the streets arranging in various forms lumps of cowdung and covering them with pumpkin flowers. The potter was the busiest man in the whole village ; and pots of various shapes and sizes were carried from his house by the women. Presents of vegetables were ex- changed between the people of Kélambakam and those of the neighbouring villages. The purohita Ramanuja Charriar rose earlier than usual, and after finishing his morning ablutions went forth and visited every household, in- forming the inmates as to the most propitious time when the pots should be placed on the fire, &c., and the people listened with eagerness to every one of his sayings. The whole village assumed a gay appearance. There was a cessation of work, and feasting and merriment were to be found everywhere.
According to Hindu notions the year is divided into two equal portions. The first half commences in January, and the second half, which commences in July, lasts till December. The latter is said to belong to the Asuras (evil spirits), and is therefore considered to be a very bad time for man. Everything is gloomy then, and people do not think of pleasure. Then come most of their trials and difficulties, for during the rainy season they must think of nothing but their fields and their cultivation. The other portion of the year is considered to belong to the Dévas (gods); and then festivities take place and there is merriment everywhere, At this time of the year, marriages are performed and festivals celebrated in temples in honour of Hindu deities. The Pongal feast is celebrated on the first day of this joyful portion of the year, which falls about the second week in January. The idea is, that, before the grain that is harvested is used for human consump- tion, a portion should be converted into rice, cooked, and offered to the Sun and Indra.
Indra is the god of rain, and the people are enjoined to worship him on this day and thus show their gratitude to him for having vouchsafed rain at the proper seasons. This has been the practice from time immemorial, though once upon a time Krishna, when he was spending his boyhood with the shepherds of Ayarpadi, asked them not to worship Indra, but to offer their devotions to the cows which supplied them with milk, &c., and to the hills whereon the cows grazed. “Indra,” he said, “sends rain for the benefit of those who cultivate the fields. The rain is of no use to us. We live by our cattle, and it is meet therefore that we should on this important occasion give our rice-offerings to the cows that supply us with milk and to the hills which supply them with grass and the various kinds of herbs upon which they feed.” To this the shepherds consented, and accordingly they went to the hill called Góvarthanagiri and there worshipped their cattle as directed by Krishna. Indra, seeing that the homage paid to him by the people from time immemorial had been withdrawn, grew envious, and directed the clouds to send down rain. For some days it rained very heavily, with the result that the country around was flooded and all the people suffered except the shepherds, who were saved by Krishna. The shepherds, as soon as they saw that Indra was determined to punish them by sending rain, flocked to Krishna and requested him to save them from the anger of Indra. Krishna there- upon lifted the hill of Góvarthana with one finger and held it over his people like an umbrella. The shepherds were saved, but the people of the country round about suffered much on account of the heavy rains. They all ran to Indra and said : " Save us from thy fury, O Indra! the rain is pouring and is causing immense destruction to our property. The shepherds who broke off their allegiance to you are safe under the protection of Krishna, while we, who remain faithful to you, are the real sufferers." Indra saw the false step he had taken, and immediately stopped the rain; then seeing that Krishna, the Avatar of Vishnu, took the shepherds under his protection, went and stood penitent before him. Then said Krishna: " Indra! I did not wish to trench upon your rights. I only wanted to punish you for your pride and teach you a lesson. I am satisfied that you are now humbled, and henceforth the people of the world shall continue to worship you on the first day as has hitherto been done, but, in commemoration of this event they shall on the following day cook rice and offer it to their cattle." Such is the origin of the second day’s pongal called the cattle pongal. (The word pongal means boiling.)
Accordingly, on this day, in the open space inside every house in Kélambakam, a number of huge pots, three or five as the case might be, were placed on the fire in a line, at the time directed by the purohita, Ramanuja Charriar. The new pots were all well cleaned and smeared over with saffron. White and red marks were also put on. A quantity of rice with as much water as it would absorb in the cooking was put into each pot, and some milk was also poured in. The boiling of the rice was anxiously watched, and when it began to simmer the youngsters of each house shouted several times the word pongal. The shouting took place at about the same time in every dwelling in the village, from which it may be inferred that all the people without exception acted strictly in accordance with the directions given to them by their venerable purohita regarding the auspicious time for placing the rice pots on the fire. When the rice was boiled, the pots were very carefully lifted out and placed in safe positions. A handful of the cooked rice was then taken from each pot, and after being mixed with ghee, sugar, and fruits, was offered to the sun. Coconuts were then broken and camphor was lighted. Then all the members of the family knelt down before the sun and worship- ped him. After this the males sat down for meals in two rows in the kutam or hall of the house. Plantain leaves were first spread out, and a number of vegetable preparations were served. These were placed near the edges of the leaves rice being served in the centre. The place of honour in the dining-hall was given to the son-in-law. A little of the rice served was first mixed with dhal and ghee, and eaten. Then a little was taken with some vegetable broth. After this came the third course, when the remaining rice was taken with pepper water. A fresh helping of rice was then given, which was eaten with butter-milk. Between the third and fourth courses, cakes and sweet drinks were served. Thus ended the midday meal of the first day of the Pongal, to the villagers a most sumptuous feast. The males then took betel and nut and, smearing their bodies with sandal, retired to rest. After this the females sat down for meals. Lastly the servants were fed in their masters’ houses.
On the morning of the second day, the cattle pongal feast was celebrated. As on the pre- vious day, although not on so large a scale, rice was cooked, but on this day it was given to the cows. The cattle were not sent out of the village to graze. They were all taken to the tank and well washed. Their horns were painted and garlands of flowers and foliage were thrown round their necks, and they were led in procession through the streets of the village with tom-toms and music. Then com- menced a round of festivities. The people went about visiting each other. It is said that when Indra punished the people by sending heavy rain, they were not able to stir out. They were shut up in their houses for some days, and then when the rain ceased they ran about in all directions, anxiously inquiring of friends and relatives how they had survived the destructive rain ; and it was in commemoration of this event that the villagers went about inquiring after the welfare of each other. The first question asked when two persons met was : " Has the milk boiled ? " Then some compli- mentary questions were exchanged, and in token of the goodwill existing between them, betel and nut were offered. These mutual visits lasted for some days. The pariahs and the menial servants of the village also made merry at this season. Some disguised them- selves as byragees (wandering mendicants from the north), others as pandarams (professional beggars who sing religious songs). Their powers of imitation were much applauded by the villagers, who gave them presents. The dancing girls of the temple also visited all the houses in the village, along with a number of musicians, and after dancing and singing for some time received presents. The young girls of the parcherry, about ten or twelve in num- ber, led by an elderly lady, went about singing songs. The girls formed a ring round a certain object, and went round it several times singing songs and clapping their hands. New cloths were bought and worn for the first time on this important occasion. The sons-in-law who came to the village to enjoy the feast had valuable cloths given to them, as also had their wives. On receiving their presents they fell at the feet of their fathers-in-law and mothers-in-law as a token of gratitude and respect. The youngsters also prostrated themselves at the feet of their elders and received their blessings.
Amidst all these rejoicings the temple deity was not forgotten. One day was set apart for celebrating a festival in the temple. Early in the morning, about five o’clock, several rockets were sent up, by means of which the villagers were apprised of the festival in the temple. The people, as soon as they heard the sound of the rockets, arose, and after bathing and putting on the usual marks, got ready coconuts, fruits, flowers, and camphor. The idol of the temple was placed on a vehicle and was carried through the streets of the village. It stopped at every house, and the inmates taking the coconuts, fruits, flowers, and camphor, came out and worshipped the god. At about eight oclock, the idol was taken to the top of a neighbouring hill on which there is a very ancient mandapam (porch) built of granite stones. The hill, which is at a distance of about two miles from Kélambakam and which slopes up from the banks of the river Palar, is about five hundred feet in height. There is a fine flight of steps, ten or twelve feet broad, leading to the porch at the top. The hill is called Ammamalai, i.e., literally, the mother’s hill. The following is the explanation given of the origin of the name. The story goes that in old days this part of the country was ruled by a petty prince. He had a very beautiful wife and a young daughter. On one occasion he had to leave his home to fight for his country. He was absent for several years and his queen, a very brave woman, ruled the country wisely and well during her husband’s absence. After the lapse of a few years, the prince returned, and burning with the desire to see his beloved queen after such a long separation ran to the fort at the top of the hill. There he saw a woman, a girl of sixteen summers, coming out of a tank after her morning bath, the water still dripping from her cloth and her long flowing hair. In her the prince saw the likeness of his own dear wife, and soon ran to embrace her. The beautiful maiden was struck with terror, and, seeing a stranger approaching, sprang into the water ; but before doing so, cursed the man. The maiden was drowned and was seen no more ; and the king fell down dead as soon as the curse was pronounced. The bold queen, seeing the fate of her beloved husband and her beautiful daughter, had a pyre prepared, and between the dead bodies of both laid herself down to die. The fire was lighted and all three were consumed to ashes. Just over the spot where they were burnt the mandapam was built by a loving people. The fort is now no more, nor does the tank exist in which was drowned the fair girl whose career of brilliant promise was cut short by a father’s unfortunate mistake and unbridled passion. But their sites are still pointed out by the people. Such is the local tradition. Every tree, every rock, in fact every spot has its tradition, and even to this day unmarried girls hold in veneration the un- happy virgin and pray to her to bless them with good husbands ; and married women, in order that they may enjoy the married state till death, worship her,
" who counted it A sin her noble husband to survive, And in a moment flung her life away."
To the top of this hill and to this porch con- nected with so many sad associations the god was taken, and there during the day it was bathed in rose water, milk, curd, &c. In the evening, the idol was placed on a vehicle pro- fusely decked with flowers and jewels. The sight on the top of the hill was really grand. Thousands of people were seen below eagerly waiting to catch a glimpse of their god as he issued from the porch. The course of the river Palar was clearly visible for miles, and all round were smiling fields and nestling villages. Nor was the spectacle from below, when the idol had been brought down from the top, less imposing. The light of numberless torches and blue flames blended with that of the setting sun and the rising moon, and falling upon the Brahmins who recited the sacred Vedas and upon thousands of simple villagers in their holiday dress, densely packed all along the flight of steps from the top of the hill to the bottom, gave a beauty and charm to the scene that to be realized must be actually witnessed. Such a scene would form a fit theme for a poet or a painter. In the midst of this immense crowd were seen sellers of toys, professional bards reciting interesting stories, jugglers and acrobats exhibiting their feats, beggars with torches in their hands, and last, but not least, the members of a religious association all dressed alike and singing songs in praise of their deity. An account of this religious association I must reserve for another paper.