Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Priya Anand

The invite read – “Come visit my Bommai Golu on 3rd September between 530 and 730 pm”. It was created on CANVA and featured a picture of Vishnu reclining on the coils of a serpent, with Lakshmi at his feet. Vishnu and Lakshmi had an oriental look, like actors from her favourite Chinese historical dramas. Leela had found the dolls on Amazon at a reasonable rate of Rs 599. It was made of resin and featured a miniature Brahma on a lotus held in Vishnu’s hand. A three-in-one bargain.

Leela, precariously perched on the stool, stood on her tiptoes to gently place the figurine on the first step of the Golu. The Golu had grown to nine steps this year from a modest five three years ago, and Leela had added to her repertoire of Golu dolls with figurines from various states.  Dolls from Odisha, West Bengal, Rajasthan, and even far-flung Sikkim and Ladakh vied for a place in her Golu.

This year’s theme which depicted the various avatars of Vishnu took center stage with giant three-foot dolls in eye-popping colours. The Gods were painted in lurid colours of mint green, flaming orange, and an eye-popping purple. The last but one shelf featured various animals in bronze and clay that stood next to a portly and prosperous Chettiyar couple, a boy and a girl in school uniforms with bobbing heads, and a set of Russian nested dolls. The village scene with miniature houses with real straw on their roofs, an entire market of shops and vendors, and a little stream with a bridge across it took over much of the living room. There was, even a maidan with a cricket team positioned across the pitch, waiting in eternity for the bowler’s delivery.

It had taken almost four days to put the entire tableau together.  The forty-year-old stand inherited from Leela’s mother-in-law were assembled with the help of the driver and Vasu. Leela was particular about the positioning of the dolls and was insistent that no one else handle them.   Vasu had broken a small doll, one of a Dashavatharam set and it had put Leela into a blue funk for an entire week.  She had refused to speak to Vasu and the children and the household help kept out of way till she cooled down. She had tried her best to glue the pieces together but the forty-year doll seemed to have seen its last days.  Vasu had to comb the streets of Malleswaram to identify another set that was identical to the original one.

“Neeraja, can you please get dressed? It’s almost five and I don’t want the guests to see you in your shorts and  T shirt. Have you even had a bath?” said Leela, as she folded the pleats on her saree. Vasu knelt at Leela’s feet, smoothing the folds and aligning them for her to tuck the pleats into her petticoat.

Leela poured fragrant ‘Idayam’ pooja oil onto the two large silver lamps that flanked the Golu display. The orange and yellow marigolds along the sides of the stand served as a perfect foil to the red and gold saree that served as a base sheet for the stand. The dining table pushed to one end of the room was stacked with cloth bags to be given to the guests. The cloth bags, made from Leela’s old cotton sarees were upcycled by an NGO that empowered underprivileged women through tailoring skills.

“Is it not clever of me to repurpose my old sarees? Can you believe that I got each of these bags made, for just Rs 40? ” asked Leela as she pinned her pallu to her blouse. Without waiting for Vasu’s response, she mentally ticked off the items that would be given as return gifts.

Ensconced within each bag, were small bottles of organic honey from natural beehives in the Nilgiri region, ghee made from A2 milk from native cows, and a cute little box of incense cones from Sampoorna Dzines. Each box came with a small note about the woman who made them.

“This year, I decided I would do something different. I want to promote sustainable products and support local communities. No more plastic bottles. And brass lamps have become so passe,” said Leela as she re-arranged the bags.

It was 530 and Leela was ready to receive guests. The chilled passion fruit juice made from her garden, was ready to be served to the invitees in little glasses she had picked up from Turkey. There was also piping hot sundal in sal leaf cups and healthy sabudana vadas.

“I made the vadas in a panniyaram vessel and used very little oil. No one wants to eat fried snacks these days.”

“Not now, we have to make sure that the guests have enough to eat,” said Leela as she pushed away Vasu’s hand that reached out towards a vada.

At 615, the first of the guests began to stream in. She welcomed them with Kumkum and Chandan and little strings of fragrant jasmine flowers. Soon a small crowd had gathered around the golu display and were peering intently at the dolls.

“Leela, this one looks so interesting,” said Prema Mami pointing at a display of a man kneeling in front of a mythical creature made of many different animal body parts. “Tell us about it. It even has the neck of a peacock.”

Mami, that’s a Navagunjara,” said Leela, eager to share her knowledge with the guests

“Nava..what?” asked a young child accompanying her mother and she leaned forward to touch it. Leela steeled herself to not grab the child’s hand, but fortunately, the mother pulled her child away and snapped “Don’t touch, Kanna!”

“Navagunjara is a manifestation of Vishnu and has the head of a rooster, the neck of a peacock, the back or hump of a bull, the waist of a lion; the tail is a serpent and stands on three feet, those of an elephant, tiger, and horse.”

If you notice, the fourth limb is a human arm carrying a lotus or a wheel,” continued Leela with a sweeping gesture.

“Arjuna encounters a strange creature and is initially surprised and scared. However, he soon realizes that Navagunjara is a manifestation of Vishnu. Arjuna submits before it and lays down his weapons.”  

Leela concluded her monologue, with a triumphant flourish, leaving her captivated audience in awe of the meticulous attention to detail, evident in the figurine.

“We got an Odiya artisan to custom make it for me, when I went to Puri last year”

Leela then moved on to another reincarnation of Vishnu and began another rather obscure and little-known story.

“Leela, I really have to visit three other people’s homes, so can you…?” said Parvati, with a glance, at her watch.

“Of course, let me give you, the haldi kunkum and the prasad. Will you have the sundal and vadas here, or take them with you?” said Leela as she hurried into the kitchen.

“Please pack them for me. I really cannot eat any more Sundal today.  It creates so much gas.”

As Leela busied herself in packing the snacks, she heard snatches of conversation from the crowd in the living room.

“Have you been to Meena Subramanya’s house? Her display is outstanding. She has a beautiful replica of the Tanjore temple.  She, even, has an idol of Raja Raja Chola strewing flowers on the lingam.”

“Why do themes always have to centre around religion? I quite like Priya’s golu. It’s small but a unique one. She has created an inclusive, pluralistic village which includes a temple, a mosque, a cross with Jesus on it and Buddha sitting under the Bodhi tree.”

“She even has prayer flags strung across. Rather cute, I think.”

“Everyone seems to have a replica of the Ayodhya temple and Ram Lalla statue. That seems to be the in theme for this year,” said Shilpa as she received her prasad and takeaway gift from Leela.

“Where are your kids, Leela? Nowhere to be seen. I heard that your daughter is in Bangalore for a few months. How is her PhD going?” asked Rashmi, whose daughter was also in the US for her Masters.  

“Has she found anyone? My daughter Ashwini found her husband on the Elite Matrimony site.”

“You should ask your daughter to register on the site. After all, she is doing her PhD in an Ivy League college. She certainly qualifies to register with Elite. She will definitely find someone suitable, a like-minded person who is from IIT or IIM and and has a US degree too.”

Leela desperately hoped that Neeraja would stay put in her room and not choose that moment to make an entrance.

“Ok. I really have to leave now Leela. Look at the time. It 730 already and I have to visit a few more houses. Thank you for the return gift and I hope you will come home tomorrow to visit my golu.”

Leela nodded to confirm her acceptance and turned her attention to others waiting to receive their return gift and prasad.

It was past eight. The exodus of guests had slowed down to a trickle and finally stopped.  Vasu and the children emerged from their rooms like wary animals who had escaped becoming prey to nosy neighbours.  Dinner was leftover Sundal and a few pieces of sabudana vada.  Vasu was annoyed that he got only the last few remnants of the vadas, now cold and soggy.  Rohan and Neeraja decided to Swiggy in some Moroccan chicken. Leela was too tired to protest and sank down on the sofa and put her aching feet up, conveniently forgetting that she had shouted at her son a few hours ago for doing the exact same thing.

The cat, finding the drawing-room empty, sauntered in, and came to a sudden halt. The golu and the dolls perched upon it, seemed to be a strange entity and it cautiously traversed a path around it, sniffing the dolls on the lower steps. The golu, soon ceased to be an object of interest and it jumped on the sofa and rested its head on Leela’s lap.

Leela absentmindedly stroked the cat while her mind drifted ahead to make preparations for the next day. She must remember to soak Channa for tomorrow’s chundal.

***

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