Being mallu

I woke up on Thursday feeling very mallu. Now, this was not as bad as getting chicken pox. Being a mallu means doing different things differently, especially on an exclusive mallu festival day like Vishu. On such days it becomes real hard to turn away from this lineage. Early enthusiastic morning calls from god's own country or god's own people from the other parts of the country reminded me of my mallu duties.
This vishu I was lost in memories of my yearly visits to my native place(kulapully in palakkad district) as a child. The visits are still undertaken but things are different. Have I changed or time? Maybe both...My remembrances of kerala are green (in every way); I can feel the dampness and sexuality in the air, the smell of steaming rice, coconut ...also the smell of burning firewood and still hear the crackling sound of burning wood. I see a much younger mom trying to cook on firewood, the luxury of a gas stove left behind in the city. The overpowering sound of crickets, frogs crying out at night as if telling humans to shut up "you did all the talking in the daytime now it's our turn"... The anticipation of snakes' heads popping out from the million holes all around... Touch me nots... who can forget those hours spent in troubling these sensitive plants. The change in the body language in my parents was palpable then...a new confidence in their NRM (Non Resident Mallu) struts. The excitement of getting up in the morning to explore the flora and fauna around made nights seem long. The villagers giving us undeserving attention and adulation....The feel of wood, mud..catching dragonflies and the kuzhi aanas(literally translated - hole elephants)- those little bugs which are found in holes dug in loose dry mud. Delicious natural smelling food...pure water...nature's sounds..the sound of women drawing water. Dad in mundu(dhoti). . the traditional clothes, the sandalwood paste on most people's forhead...Those visits to relatives' dressed in our best..Looking for fox droppings and feeling very excited on seeing one as though having spotted a tiger . The omnipresent coconut trees and the multitude vines and shrubs, each with its own special quality. The stories of ghosts, elephants and snakes narrated by one and all...Ponds, paddy fields and the smell of fried fish wafting from the kitchen...Early morning baths..giggling girls talking in hushed tones.. the list is endless, as are the memories...happy smiles and content life everywhere...is all the same?...if so, why can't I see...make me a child again...