Returned to blogging after a long break. It’s been raining and gazing at it from my indoors is the only acceptable thing about this season for me, given the fact that I live in Mumbai. The muggy days, they don’t lift my spirits be it indoors or outdoors. Life seemed to be jammed and world-weariness was ripping me apart. But come what may I never let my curiosity sink. I keep seeking change and have always been open to new horizons.
Every year I spend summers at my ancestral home in Mangalore. For the most part of summers, the place is abuzz with annual celebrations at the temples and homes. I hail from a family that is always upbeat to keep up with traditions and rituals. I have unceasingly wondered, why are the folks dead set on following these traditions and rituals? I remember reading eminent writer Shyam Manohar say, “Traditions are not to be preserved nor are they to be deliberately broken. They are to be reformed by making unknown known.” May be my clan was doing just that, making the unknown known.
Getting back to my downpour blues, I was just looking forward to find some cheerfulness and motivation to muddle through my day to day grind. Finding myself off the path I realised that it was my chance to build my own trail and walk over it. With the onset of festive seasons the mood changed favorably. I happened to be at my cousins place for ‘Rakshabandhan’, to celebrate the brother-sister bonding more so my family bonding. This is something I accept without kicking up a fuss, I am never let down. Being there with the brood, discussing big and small things in life was much of a soul lifting experience. Somehow it showed in the highly desired ‘Hygge’ into my life.
It occurred to me that traditions are noteworthy. They link the folks and give them a sense of being part of an extensive lineage. Beliefs and ideals of a clan can be metamorphosed into effective channels to initiate enduring and expressive traditions. They need not be imposing with long drawn preparations. All that counts is the aura and vivacity one invests into making it happen. Traditions let the hoi polloi bred into an everyday existence, get hang of the occurences that handed out to them an individuality and a virtue sufficient to renounce the unwanted. It is then, amongst the jostling hordes of emotions the right one finds pride of place. Cheer cannot be hunted for, outside of self nor can be bought. It comes about when thoughts are clearer and souls are lighter. I have set myself on to that path, an odyssey of the obscure to the obvious.