Varamahalakshmi's blessings

Today is Varamahalakshmi’s day. On this day, Lakshmi, the goddess of wealth and prosperity grants boons (vara) to anyone who worships her. Everyone wants wealth, prosperity and a few boons, so this is a popular puja day in South India.

The market was busier than usual this morning. People were busy buying things they need for the puja like betel leaves, fruits, coconuts, and flower garlands.

The puja is performed by married women who pray for the welfare of their families. Traditionally, women fast on this day until the puja is over. I was invited to an acquaintance’s house for the puja. It was more of a social than religious affair, with ladies sitting around chatting and eating snacks. There was a beautiful colourful kolam in front of the front door. An image of Lakshmi was in the kitchen decorated with flowers garlands.

I also went to see what my landlady was up to because I know she celebrates every puja day without fail. She showed me her puja room where Lakshmi was garlanded with flowers. There was a little tray with a pot filled with water and rice, some sandalwood paste, vermilion powder and a small mirror. It also happens to be her birthday – she’s happy to share this special day with Lakshmi.

For more information on how this puja is performed, look here.

On the rooftops

Raji’s balcony looks out over the roof of the building next door. This building is a simple South Indian restaurant where I often go for breakfast or an evening meal. In the early mornings and late afternoons, I see people sleeping on this roof. I recognise them. They work in the restaurant. They’re the waiters and young boys who clear the tables. I can’t help but be fascinated by this. Why do they sleep on the roof? It is cooler to sleep outside but the sheets of corrugated iron that make up the roof can’t be a comfortable bed. Also, there is a lot of traffic noise and pollution, with a flyover running just metres away. But I am often surprised at some people’s capacity in India to sleep just anywhere. I often come across people fast asleep by the side of the road. Sometimes I pause to see if they’re breathing but I seem to be the only person who notices these destitute people.

I imagine these young boys sleep on the roof because they have no other place to sleep. Maybe they have come from other towns and villages in Tamil Nadu to Chennai to look for work. Maybe they had a friend from the same village working in the restaurant who helped them get a job there.

They start work early, once the restaurant opens at 6am. Maybe some of them work in the kitchen, helping to prepare the idli batter or coconut chutney. Some work as waiters. They serve me a stainless steel tumbler of water and bring me the menu. They switch on the ceiling fan over my table. They often don’t understand me when I order a dish because my accent is unfamiliar to them, even though I’m only saying ‘rava idli’ or ‘masala dosa’. When I’m finished eating, one of the younger boys in shorts and bare feet will come along with a plastic basin and collect the dirty metal dishes, dropping them in the basin with a clang. They observe me with as much curiosity as I observe them.

They must make very little money. Not enough to rent a room or even a bed. Maybe they send home the little money they make. They have their meals once the customers are gone. In the afternoons when the restaurant is quiet, they have some time off. They go back up to the roof and have a nap, have a smoke or just watch the world go by. Until it’s time to go back to work.

Smashing pumpkins

I didn’t know that I had arrived in Chennai on an auspicious day: the first Friday of the Tamil month of Adi.

When I arrived at Raji’s apartment, the kolam drawn on the floor in front of her door was bigger and more intricate than usual. This was a sign that it was a special day.

I had arrived just in time for lunch. She told me we would have a special meal because it was the first Friday of Adi. She had made some coconut milk payasam (like a sweet pudding) which is prepared on each Friday of Adi.

Raji explained that Aadi is an important time, but it’s considered an inauspicious month for weddings and other ceremonies like housewarming pujas.

The newspaper had a special shopping supplement. I’m not sure what the significance of shopping is during the month of Adi, but I guess any excuse for shopping is a good one.

When I stepped out yesterday morning, I saw shopkeepers breaking huge green pumpkins in front of their shops. The tops were cut open and filled with red kumkum powder. A candle was then stuck in the opening and lit, before the pumpkin was smashed on the ground. For the rest of the day, I came across the red-coloured fleshy remains of these pumpkins on the sidewalks. Later when I quizzed Raji she told me that it was a new moon day, Adi Amavasi. On this day, ancestors are remembered. The broken pumpkins are to ward off the evil eye.

Today happened to be the solar eclipse. It took place early in the morning and I slept right through it, waking up to a sunny and very hot day.

Adi is also a month when the goddess Amman is worshipped. I read that she cures heat-related diseases like pox and rashes. If I pray to her, will she cure my heat rash? I left my prickly-heat powder in Bangalore!

Sacred snakes

Above: A stone statue of the snake goddess at the base of a tree in Lalbagh Botanical Gardens

At the local fruit and vegetable market I often see a woman walking around with a small basket in her hands. She once approached me and opened the lid of her basket. There was a snake inside! I don’t know if she was expecting me to give her some money for her snake, but after she saw my look of horror, she quickly realized there was little chance of that. The fruit vendors had a good laugh watching my reaction.

Many animals are worshipped as gods in Hinduism. There’s Ganesh the elephant and Hanuman the monkey. The snake is also worshipped as Nagaraja: the king of snakes. Killing a snake is considered inauspicious and it’s believed that this can bring bad luck which will follow you in all your successive lives.

Above: A shrine to the snake god on a Chennai street.

I sometimes come across small shrines and stone images of snakes, often at the base of a tree. This is considered to be the entry to the underworld and a resting place for snakes, believed to be the guardians of the underworld. Trees and snakes are also symbols of fertility.

Above: A roadside shrine on a Bangalore street I pass often

Many temples in South India have a shrine to the snake goddess Nakamal, the snake virgin. There are also temples dedicated to snake worship. Snakes are offered milk to appease them and to cure infertility. Snakes even have their own festival day, called Nagapanchami.

For more about snake gods and temples, see this link.

Online puja

I was the first to arrive at the post office. The employees were shuffling into the office with their metal tiffin boxes in one hand and the morning newspaper in the other. They milled around behind the counter, chatting, shifting packages and piles of mail. A man was busy combing his hair. Another was reading the paper. As usual they were completely oblivious to the first customer of the day and made no effort to acknowledge my presence.

At last a woman shuffled over to the counter and turned on her computer. Without looking at me, she lifted up her right hand, rounding her fingers and bringing her fingertips together in that Indian sign language which means: “Just 5 minutes.”

I watched as she busied herself in front of the computer. She closed her eyes. Her lips started to move. Is she praying to her computer? I wondered. Curious, I moved to the side of the counter and picked up a money order form. At the same time, I glanced toward her computer. I didn’t need to try to be so discreet, but I felt like I was an intruder in this morning ritual.

On the computer screen was an image of Ganesh, the elephant god. This devout post office employee was starting her workday by paying her respects to Lord Ganesh, the remover of obstacles. With a click of her mouse, flowers started to shower down on Ganesh. With another click, she lit a virtual stick of incense, a trail of smoke drifted upwards. Another click set off a brass bell.

I was intrigued. I didn’t know there was an ‘online’ version of a puja. When I got home I looked up ‘online puja’ on the net and sure enough I found what I was looking for.

On this website you can choose your favourite deity and go through all the puja rituals. You can ring the brass bell, light incense, draw a ‘tilak’ on the god’s forehead, move the arati lamp around, and shower the god with flowers! There’s also the suitable sloka for the god in question displayed in Sanskrit as well as a description of the god.

If you’re stuck in the office and can’t make it to the temple, no problem. Just do an online puja to your favourite god and ask for his or her help to close that important deal!

Do you speak Indlish?

This post was inspired by an email I received which I’m copying here:

Dear Madam,

This is with reference to our telephonic talks. I am awaiting the details of the programme as understood by me during conversation. Please do the needful and oblige.

Regards,

Dr. CS

This is a true masterpiece of Indlish!

The English spoken in India has its own particular charm and flavour and is peppered with local colloquialisms and idioms, old-fashioned figures of speech, as well as some innovations of its own.

Some examples of expressions you'll only hear in India:

“I’m here only.”

“I’ll come today itself.”

“It got over at 12:00.”

“He came today morning.”

“I go to temple thrice a week.”

“I’m a localite.”

There’s a book on ‘Indlish’ written by an Indian journalist, Jyoti Sanyal. He explains that the English used in India has been shaped by its Victorian legacy. Expressions which were used by the officials of the East India Company are still in use, like “Please do the needful and oblige.” Newspapers are also full of old-fashioned expressions and phrases. Sanyal gives the example of a newspaper article about ‘miscreants’ who ‘waylaid’ and ‘relieved’ unsuspecting women of their gold chains. In a travel review, I once read: “The manager informed us that our bamboo cottage would be ready in a few minutes and offered us coolants.”

The English used in official documents is even worse. A good example comes from my rental contract: “Lessee – which term shall unless repugnant to the context mean and include …” Further on it continues: “And whereas the lessor is desirous of giving on lease…”

Indian English also has it’s own creative innovations:

‘Updatation’ is an update

‘Upgradation’ is an upgrade

‘Localite’ is a local

‘Prepone’ is the opposite of postpone

Communication can be confusing in a country where cakes are called pastries, a dress is clothing, people ask you to off the light and on the fan, backside is not your rear end but the rear of a building, and people don’t die, they expire (like a gym membership or credit card). People also shift and not move house. And just to make things more confusing for foreigners, a cover is a bag or envelope, vessels are not ships but dishes, a hotel is actually a restaurant and a parcel is not a package to be sent by post but a take-away.

Come to India, and you’re likely to be asked what your ‘good name’ is. Someone may tell you that their head is ‘paining’ or that they have ‘loose motions’ (diarrhea). Be sure to ‘click some snaps’ and don’t forget to let others know that you’ll be ‘out of station’. You’ll also see many signs for ‘suiting and shirting’ and ‘boarding and lodging’. You’ll also notice that the cost of a cup of tea is ‘very less’.

Then there are the differences in pronunciation which can make communication a challenge. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been asked by waiters at the end of a meal if I wanted to order a desert. Then there was the time I was looking for 4th Cross (the streets in Bangalore are classified by a myriad of ‘mains’ and ‘crosses’. “1st Cross is there Madam!” is the reply I got. “No, not 1st Cross, 4th Cross,” I repeated. “First or Fort? You are confusing me Madam!” The tendency to pronounce ‘th’ as a hard ‘t’ sound common in many Indian languages also transforms third into ‘turd’, thin into ‘tin’ and thanks into ‘tanks’. And if things were not confusing enough, in South India ‘years’ are ears, ‘yearrings’ are earrings, and USA is pronounced You Yes Yay.

Indians also have a deep love for acronyms. They’ll tell you about the VVIP who spent a week in ICU with high BP and a persistent UTI. Or they’ll complain that the OTG broke down but luckily they had an AMC. A student might say that after his MSC he wants to work for a BPO or MNC. And if you want to phone home, don’t worry, there are PCOs everywhere where you can make ISD and STD calls.

On restaurant menus, you’ll often find creative spellings. I found some brilliant examples as I was having lunch today in a small ‘hotel’. The ‘desert’ menu proposed a variety of ice cream flavours, including: veneela, chock light, butter swatch and block current!

Indian English can be a bit confusing (and at times amusing) for the outsider, but the colloquialisms, idioms, old-fashioned usages and innovations of the language are part of the charm of India and what makes India, well, India.

As Indians say: “We are like that only!”

God's place

Above: A puja room (image: Wikimedia)

A friend was telling me recently how her cleaning lady is upset with her because she keeps her dirty dishes in the puja room beside the kitchen. This friend is not particularly religious and her place is small - hence the decision to maximise space and use the puja room as an extension of the kitchen sink! For her cleaning lady however, it’s disrespectful to keep dirty dishes in the most sacred room of the house.

Every Hindu home has a special puja room where religious idols are kept and the daily puja is performed. When we were looking for a place to live, I remember one landlord had pointed out the small room with a decorated door inset with brass bells and told us solemnly: “This is god’s place.”

A puja room is usually near or beside the kitchen. It could also be just a cupboard or simple shelf or a special cabinet. In our kitchen there is a cupboard without a door which I assume was meant to be used as a puja space. According to Vaastu, a puja room should be located in the north-east, north or east. Sure enough, our kitchen is on the north side of the house.

The puja is an important morning ritual: lamps and incense are lit, prayers are recited and the idols are offered fruits and flowers. In the mornings, I see men on bicycles delivering flower garlands to my neighbours’ letterboxes, especially for this purpose. For festivals like Dasara and Diwali, my landlady takes special care to decorate her puja room and always invites me to come and have a look.

Many foreigners living in India assume this small space is a closet and use it for storage. I even heard of a family innocently using it as a shoe closet. Their maid had told one of their neighbours, who felt it was her responsibility to tell the family that keeping shoes (considered impure) in a puja room was close to sacrilege!