September 8th

The boy entered his grandfather’s farm in the evening with his mother and his brother. (If you have followed my previous blog postings you would by now been familiar to the boy’s grandfather’s house. It’s situated in a rural area which is full of plantation trees and hills).  The next day was September 8^th, the feast of Nativity. As the custom would be in Mangalore, the children would carry flowers in plates and throw it on the statute of Our Lady. This activity would begin one week before nativity and culminate on September 8^th. For the boy and his peers the main attraction was the sugarcane that was distributed after the celebratory mass and the meeting with his cousins.

The boy and his brother were the first ones to enter the farmhouse. Slowly more cousins joined in and before the boy knew the house was filled with children and their parents.  The kids then started to run up and down the farm to hunt for flowers. The boy’s mother had saved up some flowers which she has got from the teacher’s day celebration and added it to the now rising pile of flowers.  The eldest of them led the troupe and before they knew they had enough flowers for all of them.  Night fell and there was a lot of hustle and bustle in this large farmhouse with its many rooms. The rosary as usual was led by grandfather; the aunties led by grandmother were busy in the kitchen preparing for the next day’s all vegetarian diet which was part of the custom and the uncles were assisting in whatever way they could. The children finished the rosary asked the blessings of all the elders in the family and resumed their play. Soon it was bed time and after making plans about the next day they went off to bed. Sleeping together with all the cousins for the boy was quiet an experience. But let’s leave that for another day.

It was grandmother’s hen which gave the wakeup call in the morning. All in the family were up except for the children who had to be dragged out of the bed one by one by the elders. The mass was at 8’O Clock and the children had to walk three kilometers on the village road crossing a few hills, carrying the flowers in plastic bags. The walk to the church to the boy was quite an experience by itself. The children were playing on the road much to the annoyance and concern of the elders who were worried that they would be hit by the passing vehicles. Soon they reached the church.  The children were late for the procession and simply emptied the flowers on the road and ran towards the church as the precession entered the church. The mass began and ended. The blessed paddy crop was given to all in the church including the boy and his cousins. Now came the best part of it all, the sugarcane. They all lined up along with other children and tried to get the biggest of the cane. After all of them had collected their cane they made their way back to the farmhouse. As soon as they got back grandfather asked all the members of the family to deposit the blessed paddy with him. As per the custom the grains would be peeled off and added into a dish called ‘Roce” which would be consumed after the family prayer led by grandfather thus beginning the feast.  This peeling off would be led by grandfather and his battalion of grandchildren.

Children lined up  ready to throw flowers 

Grandfather who was a teacher and a farmer came to the boy and his cousin and asked them for their grain. Both of them now began to frantically search for the grains in their pockets but they could not find it. Now the boy grandfather was a strict disciplinarian. The children were really scared of him. He had these huge bamboo canes in his rooms which came out once in a while and return after coloring a few bum cheeks red. Grandpa sensed the situation and now began to scold the boy and his cousin. “Go back and search for the grain, its blessed grain and you should learn how to be responsible which such things”, said grandpa in clear konkani. The boy was filled with fear and he along with this cousin walked back the entire way back searching for the paddy shoot. Luckily for them, they did not have to walk too far and they found the paddy and brought it back to grandfather who of course took it back with a kiss planted on each of theirs cheek. Later in the day grandfather led the prayers and invited all to partake in the meal tat followed.

Our Lady being showered with flowers

The boy mentioned in this post is of course me. Today, as we celebrate this feast again I feel sad and miss those good old days. Grandpa and grandma are no more. The big farm house is empty and everyone now celebrates this feast in their houses. As I came out of the church with the blessed paddy, it started to rain heavily and I remembered this incident with a big broad smile but with sadness in my heart. As I saw children lining up with flowers I remembered the good old days of flower hunting and throwing. As sugarcanes were distributed I remembered how my feet used to get dipped in the slush which was just formed by the rain and how our small body frames used to haul those huge sugarcanes all the way back home. Today, I did not feel like joining the line for sugarcane at all. I simply got into the car as my dad was reversing and was lost in the past. My life indeed has changed!!!!!!! …. J