Fridays from a vanished childhood - Cow worship, puja, payasam and molagootal

Krishna with cows

Lakshmi, Gauri, Radha and Ammini – they all were part of our household.  Lakshmi was the oldest and she gave birth to a little one almost every 18 months for a very long time.  She was calm and devoted and, yes, white.   Radha (brown) and Ammini (white) were her off springs.  They took over when Lakshmi retired and moved over to end of life palliative care with a long known and dedicated kumbharan (potter) family not very far from home.  Cows were part of most of the households then and they all had names to which they, believe it or not, responded when called.  Not the high yielding varieties, but the local country breed which yielded maybe a liter of healthy and organic milk daily when they were lactating.  Adjacent to the house on the east side was the pen where they were housed.  Though they were tied, they were not ill-treated.  Mother would milk them early in the morning as well as in the evening and she would be talking… to the cow.  Probably, both mother and the cow had something in common as mothers and they got along great.  Mother would leave a bit of milk for the calf to drink and the calf would be waiting impatiently for her to finish, even if it had been weaned off and was used to other sustainable feed.

Cows grazing

In the days of Sri Krishna (at least in the stories about him), the cows were taken out for grazing during the day.  The Gopas and Krishna tended to the cows and hence Krishna got the name Gopala.  Looks like tending to the cows was not a pastime for them, but a job.  Our village was no Vrindavanam and there was no Krishna or Gopas in our village to tend to the cows.  But we had a cowherd who would call out loudly to announce his arrival in the morning around 7.30.  He was a far cry from the Krishna that we have read and heard about but for the cows he was none other than Gopala, without the bansuri (flute)…  They would be pulling at the ropes to get out when they hear him in the morning and would run out ecstatically once untied.  The cowherd, whom we saw maybe only once in a month when he came to collect his monthly fee, rounded up all the cows in the village and took them to the vast pasture lands bordering a small forest, at the northern end of the village, adjacent to the river.  The cows came back home by 4 in the afternoon, eager to be re-united with their calves.  The calf, of course, got to go near the milky side of its mother only after the cow was milked.  This daily cow-herding routine was pretty normal and the cows never failed to come back home. 

Mother used to sell the left-over milk, buttermilk and ghee.   She kept the money in a ceramic jar in the kitchen cupboard and many a desperate situation had driven me to dip my fingers into it without her knowledge.  And, the only time I got caught, the wooden butter churn broke in two pieces, cutting short my pain and misery from her thrashing me with it.  We seldom got to drink the milk except when we were sick or when the milk could not be sold due to it being bitter.  Yes, bitter.   And I have had many cups of the bitter milk in my childhood.  Let me explain…  With the new rain, the trees would start sprouting new shiny and tender leaves.  The cows simply can’t resist the tender leaves and they would come home eating these tender leaves off of the trees.  There is one particular tree that is found in plenty in the area called Kanjiram (Poison Nut Tree) and its new leaves are irresistible to the cows, specially ours.  These leaves are so bitter that it would turn even the milk bitter.  Though we knew the tree was considered poisonous, we were told the milk was medicinal and, of course, what did not kill the cow could not kill us!  The Kanjiram tree’s white flowers were very fragrant but its fruit and the nuts inside were poisonous.   

Poison Nut fruits

Poison Nut tender leaves

Poison Nut seeds

Poison Nut Ripe Fruits

And then, we had Fridays.  Fridays were special.  School started 30 minutes early in the morning at 9.30 instead of 10 and broke for lunch at 12.30 instead of 1.  We had a two-hour lunch break to accommodate our Muslim brethren to attend the midday prayers in their mosques.  The school reconvened at 2.30 after lunch and ended at 4.30.  So, it started early, gave us a longer lunch break (and longer play time) and ended late leaving us bored, tired and ready for the weekend.  Other than this, Fridays were special at home too.  For the entire time in my life when we had at least one cow in the cow pen, every single Friday, we washed / bathed the cow in the morning, put vermilion / kumkum and turmeric powder markings on its face, made  nice flower garlands and put it around its neck and horns, before father and mother together conducted the Go-puja, with chants and offerings of flowers.  The Hindu, especially the Brahmin, considered the cow to be Kamadhenu (one who fulfils all wishes or wants) and the animal was treated with great reverence.  Whether it was Lakshmi or Gauri or Ammini or Radha, they also got to partake a nice serving of payasam made of rice and jaggery at the end of the puja.  They loved anything sweet and jaggery was one of their favorites.  No wonder they stood quietly when father reverently hurled flowers and Sanskrit hymns (sthothras) at them.  The timing was managed such that the puja was done and the cow was ready to leave before the cowherd called out to his bovine followers.  At least till other cows ate up the garland from around its neck and horns, our cow was clearly distinguishable, every Friday!

Cow worship

With the early school start, some food had to be ready earlier than usual for us kids going to school.  (We only got to eat moru sadam (buttermilk rice) with pickles on Friday mornings before we left for school.)  The go-puja was in addition to it.  But it was all managed well.  On Fridays, we all got up an hour earlier than usual (sigh..) and completed our assigned chores (bathing the cow – Ammini could not stand my sight and I escaped the bathing task -, fetching flowers, making the flower garland, etc.) on time.  Friday was considered the holiest of the weekdays and father would do some additional pujas compared to other days, which included his full-throated recital of Shyamala Dhandakam before the final Deeparadhana.  I can still hear father addressing his favorite Devi thus, his voice breaking with genuine emotion. 

Sarva Theerthathmike,

Sarva Mantrathmike,

Srava Yantrathmike,

Sarva Shakthyathmike,

Sarva Peedathmike,

Sarva Thathwathmike,

Sarva Vidhyathmike,

Sarva Yogathmike,

Sarva Nadathmike,

Sarva Shabdathmike,

Sarva Viswathmike,

Sarva Vargathmike,

Sarva Sarvathmike,

Sarvage, Sarva Roope, Jagan Mathruke,

Pahi Maam, Pahi Maam, Pahi maam,

Devi Thubhyam namoh, Devi Thubhyam namoh, Devi Thubhyam namaha.

The brief period of silence that immediately followed was when She came down from her abode to ours to bless her favorite devotee!  (I still tear up every time at this part of Shyamala Dhandakam, overcome with the emotions of memories that are so intimate and indelible.)

Jaggery Payasam

A separate payasam was made for this special weekly puja.  If there was school, we would get to eat the regular full meal during the lunch break and if no school, we will wait for the puja to be over.  The payasam was a Friday staple.  Also, mother made molagootal every single Friday.  The lentil based vegetable gravy was made with whatever convenient vegetable was available in our kitchen garden or yard.  One combination stood out prominently – raw bananas and yam (chenai / suran).  This combination was used and abused so much that my sister would have nightmares on Thursday nights, just thinking about the dish for the next day.  However, I loved it then and love it now.  Never got tired of molagootal and we make it as often as possible.  Our son loves the dish and this was the first thing that he learnt to cook.  Mother made either a pachadi or arachu kalakki as a side dish for molagootal.  It is a simple and nutritious vegetarian dish that also goes well with a lemon/lime or mango pickle on the side. 

Molagootal - made by my wife

Spinach (Keerai) Molagootal

Molagootal is a staple dish within the Palakkad Iyer community.  The dish is strictly a home menu item and not available in restaurants or Hotels.  This wonderful dish can be made with the following vegetables in any combination:

Winter Melon, Yellow Pumpkin, Beans, Yam, Raw Banana, Carrot, Drum Stick etc.

Also, it can be made with only any of the following:

Cabbage, Spinach/Muringa Leaves or Banana plant stem (Vazha thandu).

Muringa Leaves

Banana Plant stem (Unni/Vazha thandu)

Process:

-       Cook some Tuar Dal in a pressure cooker and keep aside.

-       Cut the chosen vegetables into small cubes.  (Cabbage to be shredded into small pieces.  Spinach to be shredded thoroughly or boiled and blended lightly in the blender.  Banana plant stem to be cut in very small cubes, taking care to remove the fibrous threads.)

-       Cook the cut vegetables with half a spoon of turmeric and required salt.  You could also optionally add half a spoon of jeera (cumin) powder while the vegetables cook. 

-       Once the vegetables (/ cabbage / spinach) are cooked well, add the cooked dal and let the mix boil.

Coconut, Jeera, Chillies and roasted Urad Dal for grinding

-       Meantime, grind grated coconut, half spoon jeera, a table spoon of dry roasted Urad Dal and a couple of red or green chillies in a blender.  Add it to the mix above and keep it on the fire till it just starts to boil.

-       Do tadka (tempering) in a tablespoon of coconut oil with a spoon of mustard and half a spoon of Urad Dal.  Add a sprig of curry leaves to it and mix.  (For molagootal with spinach, no need of curry leaves.)

Molagootal ready.  Have it mixed with hot rice and a spoon of ghee.  Goes well with arachu kalakki, pachadi, puli-inji or pickle.