- Coffeland News. Fri, September 12, 2008.
- Bangalore Mirror. Sun, September 14, 2008.
I walked into my parents-in-laws’ house one day, to find the kitchen and part of the dining room under siege.
Warm and sweet-smelling, the vapours of steaming rice filled my senses, as I stood in the familiar aroma of my favourite dish. For a quick moment, I tranced back to a life I was married away from, just months earlier.
As my husband pushed past to get the car ready for the long drive, my mother-in-law was already onto her second round of kadambutté.
The sekala simmered away on the hob and the pandi curry came to a boil. As I tucked into the putté - my first involvement with a community I was yet to meet, my father-in-law wore a beam on his face and proudly educated me on what was to come.
We were getting ready for the annual gathering of the Coorgs in the UK- an eagerly awaited event at home. For six long years, my father-in-law oversaw these re-unions, with my mother-in-law in the background, constantly encouraging the cause. And as a family, our commitment to Coorg will only continue.
Since my first koota as puthangarthi, way back in 2001, I have watched the UK Coorgs, each one valiant in their efforts, championing the endeavour to retain the affinity to their roots and propagate the pride of their race down the line.
The full significance of an initiative such as this came home to me along the years that followed, as I, guided by the exacting precision of my father-in-law, mulled over drafts and re-drafts of the newsletters that chronicled all the gatherings he had presided over.
Pre and post these meets, the many stories told during our frequent family dinners in front of warm gas fires, made me realise, afresh, how fragile the sustenance of our community really is- and how earnestly we need to address the truth.
Far away from a land that gives us our identity and strong sense of self, there is always a longing, unfulfilled.
Somewhere, in the contention between homeland and home, roots and fruit, and head and heart, intentionally or on impulse, we tend to flock together and seek out our kind.
Somewhere, a common bond keeps us tethered to what we know as our own. Call it strength of blood or even a well-wrought web cast by the veterans of our cozy community, the confluence of thoughts, variously modified beliefs and an incessantly evolving culture, ramifies a lineage well alive and holding ground.
While our genes dictate who we are and our aspirations define our lives, an institution brings us back together. At least once every year, we remember what makes us proud. We re-connect with what makes us one. And we awaken to what will keep us going.
The elders have, with experience and foresight, nurtured a quiet movement. Now, I find the current generation taking on the onus with pride, and making their own difference come alive.
Looking from the other side today, I see even more clearly, how distinct we are as a people. How progressive we are of tradition. And how indomitable we are in spirit.
With warm regards to all seniors, love to the little wonders and cheers to those in between, I wish the Coorgs in UK, a happy Kailpodu and all the very best for the London get-together, 2008.
~
http://www.blogger.com/www.bangaloremirror.com -- Bangalore Talking -- Blog Talk -- Importance of being earnest
- Bangalore Mirror. Sun, September 14, 2008.
I walked into my parents-in-laws’ house one day, to find the kitchen and part of the dining room under siege.
Warm and sweet-smelling, the vapours of steaming rice filled my senses, as I stood in the familiar aroma of my favourite dish. For a quick moment, I tranced back to a life I was married away from, just months earlier.
As my husband pushed past to get the car ready for the long drive, my mother-in-law was already onto her second round of kadambutté.
The sekala simmered away on the hob and the pandi curry came to a boil. As I tucked into the putté - my first involvement with a community I was yet to meet, my father-in-law wore a beam on his face and proudly educated me on what was to come.
We were getting ready for the annual gathering of the Coorgs in the UK- an eagerly awaited event at home. For six long years, my father-in-law oversaw these re-unions, with my mother-in-law in the background, constantly encouraging the cause. And as a family, our commitment to Coorg will only continue.
Since my first koota as puthangarthi, way back in 2001, I have watched the UK Coorgs, each one valiant in their efforts, championing the endeavour to retain the affinity to their roots and propagate the pride of their race down the line.
The full significance of an initiative such as this came home to me along the years that followed, as I, guided by the exacting precision of my father-in-law, mulled over drafts and re-drafts of the newsletters that chronicled all the gatherings he had presided over.
Pre and post these meets, the many stories told during our frequent family dinners in front of warm gas fires, made me realise, afresh, how fragile the sustenance of our community really is- and how earnestly we need to address the truth.
Far away from a land that gives us our identity and strong sense of self, there is always a longing, unfulfilled.
Somewhere, in the contention between homeland and home, roots and fruit, and head and heart, intentionally or on impulse, we tend to flock together and seek out our kind.
Somewhere, a common bond keeps us tethered to what we know as our own. Call it strength of blood or even a well-wrought web cast by the veterans of our cozy community, the confluence of thoughts, variously modified beliefs and an incessantly evolving culture, ramifies a lineage well alive and holding ground.
While our genes dictate who we are and our aspirations define our lives, an institution brings us back together. At least once every year, we remember what makes us proud. We re-connect with what makes us one. And we awaken to what will keep us going.
The elders have, with experience and foresight, nurtured a quiet movement. Now, I find the current generation taking on the onus with pride, and making their own difference come alive.
Looking from the other side today, I see even more clearly, how distinct we are as a people. How progressive we are of tradition. And how indomitable we are in spirit.
With warm regards to all seniors, love to the little wonders and cheers to those in between, I wish the Coorgs in UK, a happy Kailpodu and all the very best for the London get-together, 2008.
~
http://www.blogger.com/www.bangaloremirror.com -- Bangalore Talking -- Blog Talk -- Importance of being earnest
Comments
So nicely written... captured everything...well done tej... you make us all so proud :) :) :)
essessgee- hey:) I am so glad you found a connect here. And thanks for the huge appreciation :) See you again :)))
Richa- Good to see you again :)Thanks :)
The UK Coorg meet was good fun, enjoyed by all including the lil one.
- Yog.
gugiinsingapore - Welcome :) and thanks very much for the appreciation. Maybe we can meet over a pandi curry-kadambutte some day :)
Yog - Hey, very pleasantly surpised to see you here! I am glad you liked it and thanks for logging in to say so. Hope to see you again :)