Maundy Thursday and my maid on leave! I have always loved the indriappam (Kerala version of unleavened bread) and the pesaha palu (milk) but the laborious process of making them have always been slightly intimidating. But I’ve always been very fortunate to have good domestic helps who, without grumbling would grate three to four coconuts, extract the milk (something I hate doing-messy, time consuming,tedious and boring) and all the cleaning of onions, garlic for the appam.
For this pasaha, my maid was on leave. I know many Nazarane families have given up this practice of making appam and palu – but not for a moment did I think of not making it. My eighty plus ammachi (mother-in-law) with poor eyesight and a weak heart and I, still treated like cut-glass after my brush with cancer, decided that maid or no maid, appam and palu we shall make. How can you think of Maundy Thursday without them?
We got the neighbours maid to grate coconuts. The rest of the process, the two of us managed.
By one thirty everything was ready, and now I am waiting for Sunny and ammachi to come back from the Church. I didn’t go for the service as we cannot leave achachan ( my father-in-law) who is ninety plus alone in the house. When they return he will cut the appam ie break the bread. Unleavened on this day.
Why do I post this in the ragtobe blog? Because, at this moment I feel so grateful to be back to my old normal self - to be healthy enough to make Indriyappam and palu without a domestic help.
The Maundy Thursday of 2007 had me wondering if I’d be around for another one. In 2008, I was grateful that I was still around to be part of the rituals.
Today, I feel infinitely grateful to my God that I can do all I could before the disease hit me like a ton of bricks.
And then I wonder, what was it all about? Why did I get the disease in the first place and why did He heal me?
What is it that He wants from me?
For this pasaha, my maid was on leave. I know many Nazarane families have given up this practice of making appam and palu – but not for a moment did I think of not making it. My eighty plus ammachi (mother-in-law) with poor eyesight and a weak heart and I, still treated like cut-glass after my brush with cancer, decided that maid or no maid, appam and palu we shall make. How can you think of Maundy Thursday without them?
We got the neighbours maid to grate coconuts. The rest of the process, the two of us managed.
By one thirty everything was ready, and now I am waiting for Sunny and ammachi to come back from the Church. I didn’t go for the service as we cannot leave achachan ( my father-in-law) who is ninety plus alone in the house. When they return he will cut the appam ie break the bread. Unleavened on this day.
Why do I post this in the ragtobe blog? Because, at this moment I feel so grateful to be back to my old normal self - to be healthy enough to make Indriyappam and palu without a domestic help.
The Maundy Thursday of 2007 had me wondering if I’d be around for another one. In 2008, I was grateful that I was still around to be part of the rituals.
Today, I feel infinitely grateful to my God that I can do all I could before the disease hit me like a ton of bricks.
And then I wonder, what was it all about? Why did I get the disease in the first place and why did He heal me?
What is it that He wants from me?
a million dollar question!
ReplyDeletei found this blogg in my google search of 'v.p gangadharan', whom my father is going to meet tomorrow. Thanks for your posts and its giving me some courage to face the trauma.
ReplyDelete@ Pramod
ReplyDeleteall the best. your father is going to the best possible doc in this field.Not to worry.
"Thy will be done"
ReplyDeleteI was just now reading this piece. You are a strong lady. This is the time one starts knowing life, isn't it? Things beginning to sparkle. He wants you to look at the sudden sparkle all around.
ReplyDelete@ Venugopal
ReplyDeleteOh yes. you are right. things begin to sparkle.
@ austere
yes, 'thy will be done' it is.
i remember reading somewhere in coelho---the darkest hour is the hour before dawn. true,isn't it?
ReplyDelete