Ten Days of Meaning: The Sacred Journey of Onam Begins

The First Note in a Ten Day Symphony

Today is the eve of Atham, the first step in Onam’s sacred journey. The breeze turns softer. The sky ripens into a gentle blue. And everywhere, there is a hush. Not the hush of sleep, but the stillness of waiting.

For Onam is not a single celebration. It is a sacred unfolding - ten days that rise like a wave from Atham to Thiruvonam, carrying with it memory, movement, and meaning.

Each day brings more than time, it brings offerings. Flowers are added to the Pookkalam. Lamps are lit. Banana stalks rise beside thresholds. Under the soft glow of the Nilavilakku, stories are remembered, and children play. Temples awaken with the echo of Chenda drums.

Kerala becomes not just a land in celebration, but a land that remembers.

Of Petals and Plates

At the heart of this journey lie two eternal offerings: the Pookkalam and the Onasadya. One is laid on the floor with flowers. The other, on the plantain leaf with love. One pleases the eye and soul. The other nourishes the body and memory.

Both are not merely acts of devotion, they are declarations. To Mahabali, yes - but also to the values he embodied: justice, equality, humility, and shared joy.

And so, it begins....

This is the season when Kerala welcomes back its soul.

When a king returns not on elephants or clouds, but through lamps, laughter, and layered floral carpets.

Onam does not preach. It plays. It cooks. It dances. It remembers. It invites us not to believe blindly, but to belong wholly.

But before we step into the ten sacred days, we pause, just a moment longer, in this fragrant silence before the bloom. Tomorrow, the journey begins.

The King Is Coming

As Chingam climbs, the land begins to remember. The air grows warmer. The trees flower ahead of time. Rivers soften their song.

In every corner of Kerala and far beyond it, children gather thumba, vadarmalli, jamanthi, lotus, and other blossoms. They craft the first rings of the Pookkalam with tender fingers and ancient instinct.

Homes are scrubbed - not merely for guests, but for grace. Nilavilakkus gleam in doorways. Banana leaves are folded and arranged. Radios hum with familiar tunes.

And across time zones - from Kozhikode to Kuwait, from Kollam to Canada, a rhythm returns. A memory blooms. A joy stirs without logic or condition.

Because Onam is not just a festival. It is a temple of the heart, built from myth, preserved by memory, and lit by the spirit of home.

A Festival Without Walls

Onam is Kerala’s open celebration. It knows no barriers.

Christians light the Nilavilakku.

Muslims shape their Pookkalam.

Atheists join the Onasadya with equal reverence.

NRIs watch their families’ celebrations over video calls.

Migrant labourers, far from home, pause for a humble feast and a quiet tear.

Onam is not bound by belief. It is bound by belonging.

For ten sacred days, the land becomes a mirror, reflecting not who we are, but who we yearn to be.

The Sacred Sequence: Day by Day

And so, the sacred calendar unfolds:

Days 1–3 (Atham, Chithira, Chodhi): Homes are swept. Pookalams are laid. Onakkodi - new clothes for the season are bought and gifted.

Day 4 (Vishakam): Markets stir with sound and scent. Kitchens awaken. The Sadya takes early shape.

Days 5–6 (Anizham, Thriketta): The Vallam kali boat races begin. The oars beat in unison. Families gather. Hearts race.

Day 7 (Moolam): Dance, devotion, and temple sadhyas fill the air.

Day 8 (Pooradam): Clay figurines of Onathappan are placed at the centre of the Pookkalam. The divine arrives quietly.

Day 9 (Uthradam): The eve of Thiruvonam. Final touches. Final prayers. Final blossoms.

Day 10 (Thiruvonam): The soul of the season. Mahabali arrives, not as myth, but as memory fulfilled.

Each day is a verse in the song. Each moment, a ripple in the sacred tide.

A Festival of Equality and Expression

Onam belongs to Kerala. But it lives in every Malayali, across borders, across generations.

Caste is forgotten. Wealth becomes irrelevant. Even time is forgiven.
All are welcome at the Onam table. All are equal before its feast.

The spirit of the season is best captured in the ageless Malayalam adage:

“Kanam Vittum Onam Unnanam” - Celebrate Onam, even if it means mortgaging your land.

Onakkodi - the ritual of gifting new clothes, is not just a tradition. It is a transmission. The Karunavar (eldest in the family) offers Onapudava to the younger ones. It is a gesture of love, of continuity, of quiet command: Celebrate, no matter what. The cloth is not just fabric - it is the thread that ties one generation to the next.

A Culture in Motion

As I begin this special series tomorrow, walking with you from Atham to Thiruvonam, this blog will not only explore rituals and stories, but also the physical rhythm of the season.

Because in Kerala, as in much of ancient India, festivals were not isolated events. They lived through the body, shaped in motion, and sculpted in spaces where prayer and play met.

The temple courtyard, the riverbank, the kitchen, and the field, all were stages of cultural fitness. Through Onam, we shall return to that wisdom.

Let the season begin.
Let the petals fall.
Let the spirit rise.

References:

1. Census of India 1961, Vol. I – Monograph Series: Onam – A Festival of Kerala
2. History of Kerala, Vol. IV by T.K. Krishna Menon, 1937
3. Oral traditions and family retellings across Malabar, Cochin, and Travancore

Coming up tomorrow 26 August 2025: Atham – The Sacred Bloom of Onam Begins