The Great Payasam Robbery

The marriage of my niece, Lakshmi, was solemnized last month at Palakkad. It was the most talked about wedding in the Agraharam. No, it was not the grandeur normally associated with a wedding but the simplicity, stretched beyond a limit that became the subject of talk.

As it seemed to be a made-for-each- other case, the boy and girl agreed and the elders too agreed. They also agreed for a simple marriage and started preparations in right earnest. But some guys in the village did not agree. According to them, whenever a boy or a girl belonging to the village (Gramam) gets married, they automatically inherit certain 'privileges'. They believe, wedding is an occasion for celebration not only for the family but also for the community. It is as much the privilege of community members, as that of relatives, to be part of the celebrations and confer blessings on the couple. For the young, it is an occasion to exchange glances and fall in love. For the middle aged, it affords opportunity to strengthen old relation and build up new relations. For the women folks, It is an opportunity to display their colourful Kancheepuram acquisitions, get an update of all that is happening around Agraharam and an escape from the monotonous household chores.

When Lakshmi's marriage was fixed, the news was picked up by the community link, live. Once the marriage is on the cards, the village people invariably take the invitation for granted and do not wait for the actual receipt of the card. While men scrupulously note down the date of marriage and make it free from all other engagements, women start selecting the appropriate sari and get all matching ornaments and garments ready.

The village guys were preparing themselves for attending the wedding of Lakshmi. Then came the news, like a bolt from the blue that Lakshmi's marriage was going to be a simple affair and the expected invitation may not come at all. A simple living or a simple Deepavali is acceptable but a simple marriage is not. The subject, the denial of invitation, became a point of heated discussion.

"If they are so particular of simple marriage, let them cut short on other expenditure but not on community participation" commented a village elder. "Generally, happy occasion like wedding comes once in a while and when it does come, the happiness should be shared with all", observed Sri Narayana Iyer who had recently come from Mumbai and settled here. So went their argument. Their hidden agenda was of course to get legitimate and honourable access to the Payasam-oriented feast.

A few words about Palada Pradhaman would explain the resentment felt by the people here. Palada Payasam plays a pivotal role in Kerala life. Ranked as No.1 among sweet delicacies, it is appropriately named as Pradhaman (The First and Foremost). Come Mandalam season, temples of Palakkad vie each other in offering Payasa Sadhya (feast) to the devotees of Ayyappa because the Lord Himself is considered as Payasanna Priya, one fond of Payasam.

Incidentally, Noorani Saastha Preethi is famous for five varieties of Payasam and five varieties of pickles offered during the feast. An ignorant person might ask "why pickle"? When Payasam does not go down beyond a certain point, try one of the five pickles and you are ready for another four rounds.

Payasam being so favourite, the village guys could not digest the possibility of a Payasa Sadhya being denied which they aspired during Lakshmi’s marriage. Among the disappointed lot, there was this Soft-ware Engineer from USA. Having come here on leave, he was aspiring to access the Payasam link that was broken for years and was hoping to 'upload' it. Many such Payasam lovers felt terribly let down.

The bride's parents had never anticipated such severe opposition to their decision of a simple marriage. As it was too late, they went ahead with their plan and the ‘D’ day arrived. The marriage was solemnized in a simple but solemn way. No sooner the groom tied the nuptial knots on the bride, than the guests staged a mass exodus to the dinning hall.

It was when the plantain leaves were being served, Ramachandra Iyer, the bride's father discovered to his horror that the huge payasam vessel was missing.

"Where is the Payasam" he cried out to the Chief Cook.

"Few minutes before, some people came and carried away the Payasam. They said you ordered the vessel to be taken to a nearby house to make sure that everybody gets a share.” The cook replied.

Apparently, in the midst of Muhurtham when all attention had turned towards the couple, some of the members of the opposition cleverly managed to hijack the payasam vessel. It is a ‘Great Payasam Robbery' described one who managed to get a front row seat with great difficulty.

Some young heroes swung into action and managed to trace the treasure in tact. The retrieved payasam vessel was carried back to the dinning hall and served to all. Meanwhile, the couple, 'blissfully' unaware of the goings on, were concentrating on their own areas of interest. For them, nothing, not even the Palada Pradhaman mattered. They never felt appetite for food and they may not feel for it for many more days. They were in a world of their own, whispering, giggling and smiling.

Ramachandra Iyer heaved a sign of relief that his daughter’s marriage went on very well and shared the joy by calling his wife, Radha and offering a cup of payasam.

(This was published in THE NEW INDIAN EXPRESS “Time Out’ column 22nd July 2008)