Muruja Tales of Kartika Masa
Kartika Masa or the month of Karthik is the most important festive month for Odias. I mean, we have an entire month to celebrate. Ashwina, Kartika, Margasira, this troika of month has several ritualistic importance in an Odia Hindu’s life. While Ashwina or Ashin is about Shakti Puja, togetherness, Kartika is about adopting a simpler life by keeping fast, eating simple vegetarian food and Ashwina is about welcoming the winter harvest of paddy and several rituals attached to it. In the month of Karthik, most people eat food sans onion and garlic. Those who cannot observe the entire month, they at least go vegetarian for the last five days of the month, known as Panchuka. Where else have you seen people celebrate a month in austerity and complete devotion and welcome the next with meticulously planned meaty festival.
My childhood was spent in the 80s. Days of no phone, very little television, some radio and a whole lot of imagination. My sisters would do all fun things like crossing the river and do a small level potluck on the other side or just disappear with their friends and come back home with goodies from the forest. They ignored my childlike curiosity about a lot of things. I was never part of their girl gang and I sulked. I was left to catch dragonflies, read story books, do drawings or just sit in the kitchen and see my mother cook. I chartered out my own path. My sisters grew up and got busy with their higher studies and careers. I was left alone for good. It was like becoming an empress without competitors around.
Growing up in a village has its own charm. You grow untamed and get to explore magical things; the memory of which keeps coming back to you all the time. I was allowed optimum freedom by my father and grandfather. I decided to take the Kartika Masa mantle quite seriously. But, my mother stood like a stumbling block now. She had absolutely no control over her other two daughters. They had their girl pals who would signal them to get up at 4 am in the morning. These two would sneak out from the house and come back taking a bath before sunrise. The Panchuka puja has to be done before sunrise. When I wanted to do the same, she said, “You can’t go. It is too cold and you would fall sick.” I was still sleeping with her. So, there was no way I could do sneak out and go to the river. “There is no harm in doing the puja after sunrise. Niru, our help would get you water from the river for the puja. Don’t worry.” She would sound protective which I definitely didn’t like then. So, like a good child, I would take a hot water bath at home and wait for Miss Niru to arrive at 8 am. I was quite ashamed of telling this to my friends. Because, they were all in the ‘before sunrise’ gang.
Anyway, I accepted the reality and since puja was not really what I was interested in, things fell into place soon. Muruja was what excited me more. My brother was very good at making molds. So, much before Panchuka, we would look for small tin dabbas (tobacco containers, especially Chamanbahar tina daba of all sizes fit the bill. He would carefully make holes into the patterns. Like shankha, chakra, gadaa, padma, hansa, chakri etc.
The next mission was to create the five colours. Colour powders were not commercially available in villages then. And panchuka was all about making the basic Indian colours. In Red, Green, Yellow, White and Black. So, for red, we would find new red bricks and powder it on clean stone slab called ‘sila’. For white colour, we would find chuna maati (lime). I preferred ‘chaula chuna’ aka rice flour as it looked whiter than the dull white chuna. Chaula Chuna had to be kept carefully as dogs would come sniffing and eat it.
For yellow, again dry turmeric pieces would be powdered in a mortar and pestle. Black we made by burning coconut shells and then powdering it. Since, we don’t belong to the coastal belt, coconut shells would be collected over a period of time. For the green, we collected amla (gooseberry)leaves. My mother would request some village woman to get it from the forest. The leaves would be sun dried and then powdered. Some people even used guava leaves for the green colours. But, Amla leaves felt more authentic. It was a matter of pride to make green colour from amla leaves. Only lazy ones made it from Guava leaves.
Each colour would be strained in a chaluni and kept carefully in separate containers.
The muruja (Odisha’s typical rangoli designs) patterns were very traditional. I made big muruja around the tulasi bedi. Big Jimages of Jagannath, Balabhadra, Subhadra, a chariot and all that would make the pooja area festive. I loved it when people appreciated my effort in making the muruja. I would save the best designs for the last day. The tulasi bedi would be given a fresh coat of colour every evening of Panchuka. The surrounding area would be done in gobar leepa. By evening the Tulasi bedi area would look ready for the next morning.
A relative of mine hosted a big Dhabaleswar Osha. Girls would keep a fast to appease Lord Shiva. Every house would contribute in terms of rice, daal, vegetables and ghee etc. Everybody would go and help in the bhoga making. Khechudi, ghanta, kandamula-jhudanga manji tarkari, tarana etc would be cooked in big pittala handis. The place would smell divine-with prasad, dhoopa, deepa, naivedya. Marigolds would be blooming in full glory. By evening, kids would surround the house and would try to enter the house. They would be stopped and be given the prasad. They would leave the area and get busy in the most exciting activity of Panchuka — Danga Bhasa or boat sailing. Now, for Danga bhasa, everybody would need a paana, gua. My grandfather ate paan. He would happily give away paana and gua to all kids who would line up in our courtyard. We would cut, fold and decorate the banana stems with small marigold flowers, paana, gua and a small deepa.
I was allowed to go to the river before sunrise only on this day. My mother would ready an escort before. Some nani would come and accompany me to the river. I would experience the most amazing dawn of the year. Hundreds of tiny boats would float in the river, with twinkling deepas. I would stand there till it becomes brighter. The eastern horizon would become vibrant. My mind and soul would be happy. I would come back and do my last ritual of the year. The best designs saved in my mindscape would come alive with the colour. I would go around the village. Most girls would come back after a darshan from the Shiva temple. Tired from a previous day fasting, they would all sit together and break their fast with a bowl of basi pakhala (traditional fermented rice bowl with fire grilled vegetable dish) and paga, sitting in the November sun. Peals of laughter floating around, setting promise for another year of bonhomie and love.
Text: Sujata Dehury
Pics: Monalisa Patnaik
