Christmas is here. It's a season of carols, cakes and merriment - and it is all happening. Fifteen days back, there appeared at the Galleria lobby (the building where I work), a decorated tree with lights and all that, replete with presents, bells, trinkets and sundry adornments. Candles glow in the backdrop of an artificial cascade, as a pianist is at work producing strains after mirthful strains, giving a classic touch to the proceedings...No Santa yet, and no snow here, but festivity is in the air!
I meditated on what this season is all about in our place - It is Margazhi - the Lord says, "Of all months, I am Margazhi". It is in this biting cold that we used to wake up at ungodly hours, bathe in cold Siruvani water, and join the troupe of Bhajanai with Vichu Mama - I've always been in doubt: Is it Vichu mama or Pichu mama? Just to be on the safer side, I say it with my lips folded as if to say 'Vi' but get out a 'Pi' (or the other way round). I have always been fascinated by "anadhinadha dhinabhando radhe govinda". If your brake shoes are not strong enough, you might end up in an infinite loop of anadhinadhinadhi....The other thing that caught a considerable amount of my interest were the cymbals. I looked at it with awe, and also at mama, who dexterously multitask by singing and at the same time weave complex rhythmic patterns on those brass discs. We thus went around our little place singing His glory (can't remember if we danced), visited a temple, ended up at someone's house for breakfast. It was a religious and godly thing to feed the Bhajanai gang during the month. The Varasidhi Vinayakar temple had its own agenda for the month, with Radha kalyanams, kutcheris and upanyasams and we would make a beeline to the temple in the evenings to get our share of the prasadam.
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