From Ember to Arrival: Thriketta, Moolam & Pooradam

 Thriketta - The Sixth Day: The Ember Beneath the Bloom

As the sixth dawn of Onam rises, the festival softens in roots, rituals and remembrance. The noise of games settles slightly. In its place comes a gentler rhythm - a return to ancestral soil and sacred memory.

Return to the Tharavad: Where Bloodlines Breathe

Long before cities rose, the tharavad - the ancestral home - was Kerala’s heartbeat. On Thriketta, families begin to retrace their steps to these ancestral abodes. Children rush into wrinkled arms. Women revisit storied rooms filled with castor oil, jackfruit, and faded black-and-white photos.

The elders wait quietly with sandal paste, oil lamps, and silence heavy with blessing. A bowed head meets a raised palm. A moment of contact becomes the most sacred of rituals.

Kitchens as Temples of Taste

By mid-morning, kitchens burst into choreography. Coconut is scraped, cumin roasted, turmeric warmed in oil. Banana chips are fried with meditative precision.

Each stir, each taste, each act of preparation becomes a sensory ritual, training the mind to focus, and the body to serve without distraction. These are not tasks - they are offerings.

Games of Rhythm and Muscle Memory

The younger generation gathers for Nanthuni Kali, Thalam Kali, and spontaneous games of rhythm, clapping, and mirth. Boys engage in arm wrestling and balancing games. No scorecards here - only pride, laughter, and the thrill of motion.

These are the earliest rites of physical culture, seeded in joy.

Sham Battles and the Echoes of Ancient Boxing

British officers like Fawcett and James Forbes documented sham fights and boxing contests during Onam. In fields led by jenmies (landlords), tenants would engage in symbolic yet spirited combat.

The boxing Fawcett observed in Malabar was astonishing - its stance, agility, and execution reminiscent of Roman pugilism. Fighters stood bare chested, fists raised, feet grounded, echoing the ancient Roman cestus fighters.

Could these forms have traveled through trade?
Indeed, from 30 B.C. onward, Roman ships visited Muziris for pepper and pearls. Roman influence on Kerala’s coastal culture is not myth but recorded history. Even Alaric the Goth’s ransom of 3,000 lbs. of pepper in 410 A.D. likely came from these very shores.

The Kayyankali and indigenous boxing games of Malabar may carry not only cultural essence but transcontinental echoes, transmitted through bodies, not books.

Moolam – The Seventh Day: When Generations Dance Together

On the seventh day, the festival matures. Children no longer dance alone; elders step into the circle. From this day, the spirit of Onam becomes one of intergenerational celebration.

It is often said:

“Kanam vittum Onam unnanam.”
(Even if one must sell land, the Onam feast must be served.)

Sadya as Sacred Practice

Temples serve miniature sadhyas - simple meals that carry the full weight of tradition. In homes, kitchens echo with rehearsals.
Payasam is sampled. Tamarind is soaked. Bananas are steamed.
Each act of cooking becomes a spiritual preparation.

Elders and Strategy

Games of Chathurangam, dice, and cards begin to unfold in quiet courtyards.
Wisdom is no longer spoken - it is played.
A well-placed move is not just clever - it is inheritance in action.

Attakalam: A Sand Circle of Honour

In village compounds, Attakalam is played. One team inside, one out. Rules simple - outwit, outlast, and push the opponent from the circle.

It is not brute strength, but strategy, balance and discipline that determine the winner.

Kaikottikali and Soaring Swings

Women in cream kasavu sarees gather under jackfruit trees, forming soft circles. Kaikottikali begins with a song, followed by synchronised steps, folded hands, and smiles shared across generations.

Beside them, coir rope swings sway. Girls and women fly, push, and giggle. It is not escape - but a vertical prayer, a moment between earth and sky.

Pooradam – The Eighth Day: Where the Clay Speaks

On Pooradam, the festival slows to a sacred rhythm. After seven days of outward expression, the focus shifts inward - to the clay, the lamp and the living room floor.

Onathappan: Clay Pyramid, Eternal Presence

Families gather to mold the Thrikkakara Appan - the clay pyramid representing Mahabali and Vamana. These are not opposing forces, but coexisting truths: humility and dharma, sacrifice and grace.

Children, now called Poorada Unnikkal, decorate the figures with flowers and rice flour. Their small hands carry forward a thousand years of silent continuity.

Behind every Onathappan, tradition places bows and arrows, a practice often overlooked today. These weapons were not of war but of reverance, honouring Vamana’s courage and Mahabali’s nobility.

The Sacred Archery and Onavillu Tradition

In southern Kurumbranad, archery contests using bamboo bows and plantain targets were common. The cheppu (target) sat atop a mound, and victors - those who struck true, claimed every fallen arrow.

This wasn’t mere sport, it was mental focus, physical precision, and community pride. These echoes survive even today.

In Thiruvananthapuram, the Onavillu ritual continues in royal tradition. On Thiruvonam morning, the Travancore royal family receives, from temple priests, an ornate bow (Onavillu) painted with scenes of Vishnu and crafted as sacred heirlooms. It is a reminder that valour and virtue walk hand in hand.

Markets, Kitchens, and Collective Joy

Pooradam also marks the final preparation day. Markets bustle with last minute purchases - fresh banana leaves, jaggery, coconut, turmeric, and new garments.

Kitchens echo with the music of picking and frying. Grandmothers begin making sharkara upperi, naranga achar, puliyinchi, and uniyappam not from written recipes, but from instinct passed down like family jewellery.

Even the poorest homes prepare something because Onam is about dignity, not wealth.

Circles of Story and Shared Wisdom

At nightfall, elders gather the children. Under the light of one lamp, stories unfold.
Proverbs, riddles, Akshara Slogam, and small contests of wit bloom in verandahs.

Here, Mahabali becomes more than myth.

He becomes the wise old man who smiles with every tale told well.

Pooradam – The Still Point of the Festival

Pooradam is a sacred pause.
It is the point at which myth becomes memory and memory becomes clay.

It is the day when Mahabali is no longer awaited, he is present, in every act of love and readiness. In the great journey of Onam, Pooradam is the inward step, the whispered welcome, the final note before crescendo.

References:

1. Fawcett, F., Nayars of Malabar, 1901
2. James Forbes, Oriental Memoirs, 1813
3. Census of India 1961, Vol. I, Monograph Series – Onam: A Festival of Kerala
4. Kerala Government Archives – Festival Records & Circulars
5. Malabar and Its Folk by T. K. Gopal Panicker, 1900
6. Interviews with families in Palghat, Thiruvananthapuram, and Kurumbranad (2022–2024)
7. Travancore Royal Family Chronicles, Government Publications Division

Coming up tomorrow (04/09/2025)
Uthradam – When Joy Crosses the Threshold

Atham – When the King Begins His Return

THE GOLDEN STEP THAT BEGINS THE JOURNEY IN THE HEART OF KERALA 

The Sacred Beginning

As the fresh breath of Chingam deepens, Kerala awakens to Atham, the day that signals not just the start of the Onam season but the return of a deeply loved presence: Mahabali, the Asura King, whose memory has never faded from the Malayali heart.

On this day, every home lays down its first Pookkalam - the floral carpet that blossoms at the doorstep like an open invitation to the noble king’s invisible footfall. It is not a ritual of show, but one of remembrance and quiet reverence. The earth is made fragrant not just with flowers, but with feeling.

It is said that Mahabali begins his descent to Kerala on Atham - not from the sky, but through the corridors of love, memory, and longing. And so, with petals and prayers, the people begin preparing for his arrival, step by step, day by day.

And in this land once ruled by Mahabali, we still sing:

"Maveli Nadu Vazhum Kalam, Kallavumilla Kalavumilla"
When Mahabali ruled the land, there was no theft nor dread of thieves. Honesty of purpose and probity of character were the guiding lights of every heart. Joy and abundance flowed freely, untouched by deceit or fear.

Athachamayam – The King’s Procession Through Time

Atham is not only spiritual, it is spectacular.

In the town of Thripunithura, the day opens in vibrant grandeur with the celebrated Athachamayam, a cultural procession that weaves together history, art, and folklore into a moving mosaic. But few know that this spectacle has roots far deeper than modern celebrations - it once belonged to kings.

According to historian K. P. Padmanabha Menon, in History of Kerala, Vol. IV (1937):

“The Cochin Raja and the Zamorins of Calicut celebrated on Atham day a ceremony known as Athachamayam. On that day, both these Rajas set out in procession with pomp and glitter of Oriental panoply... This is said to be indicative of the start usually made by these Princes in early days to attend the festival at the temple at Thrikkakara.”

In those days, the Raja of Cochin would begin his ceremonial journey on Atham, moving in regal procession toward the Thrikkakara Temple, believed to be the spiritual seat of Mahabali. The event was filled with courtly splendour - elephants, parasols, drums, and dance - and symbolised the king’s alignment with the spirit of Onam: humility before divinity, royalty before the divine dwarf.

But with the reorganisation of princely states and the arrival of democracy, these royal traditions faded from power only to be reborn as public cultural festivals. Today, Athachamayam is sponsored by the Government of Kerala, but retains the charm of a forgotten age. It is a day when almost every traditional art form of Kerala takes to the streets. Kathakali, Mohiniyattam, Theyyam, Pulikali, Kummattikali, Panchavadyam and Chenda Melam transforming the town into a grand theatre of heritage.

It is no longer the king’s procession; it is the people’s inheritance.

A Festival Begins at Home

Even far from Thripunithura, Atham is celebrated quietly but meaningfully across Kerala. Each morning, courtyards are swept clean and then sprinkled with cow dung mixed with water, a traditional act of sanctification still followed in many rural households.

The first Pookkalam is laid in courtyards and verandahs with yellow flowers, especially Thumbappoo (Mexican Marigold), which is believed to be most auspicious on this day. As the days progress, more colours and complexity are added. But Atham’s flower design remains the simplest because every journey must begin with the first step.

Children, often the sincerest celebrants, wake early to pluck flowers, laugh under the morning dew, and race back with their collections. But their joy does not end with blossoms. Even the youngest of them find delight in Gotti (marble games that sharpen hand and eye coordination) and Pambaram (spinning tops that train wrist control and focus). In their laughter, the legacy of Onam lives on, not just as memory, but as motion.

In modern times, schools and villages come alive with the spirit of Onam. Children prepare for Pookkalam contests, cultural programs, and playful competitions, filling the air with laughter and tradition reborn.

The mood is set. The stage is ready. The legend is stirring.

A Glimpse into Traditional Play – Introduction Begins

As part of this ten day journey, we shall introduce one traditional game or play activity every day, not necessarily tied to the day itself, but reflective of Onam’s spirit of community, vigour, and joy.

Today, let us look at Athachamayam itself, not just as a procession, but as a communal performance where play and pageantry meet. The rhythms of Chenda, the agile movements of folk dancers, the roar of the crowd, all reflect the ancient joy of physical expression rooted in Kerala’s cultural soil.

Atham – A Golden Threshold

Atham is not a climax, it is the threshold. It is the first ripple that leads to a flood of festivity. It is a moment poised between history and myth, ritual and reality.

In the footsteps of kings and the silence of Mahabali’s promise, Atham teaches us to begin again - simply, sincerely and with joy.

Let the petals fall, let the procession begin. The king is on his way.

References:

1. K. P. Padmanabha Menon – History of Kerala, Vol. IV, 1937
2. Census of India 1961, Vol. I – Monograph Series: Onam – A Festival of Kerala
3. Interviews and local records on Athachamayam, Thripunithura
4. Kerala Government Archives – Onam Festival Circulars
5. Malabar and Its Folk by T. K. Gopal Panicker, 1900

Coming up next: On Friday, 29 August 2025—From Dhyan Chand to Kerala's Heroes: A national sports day story.

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