Pregled posta

Marketing

When I was trying to pen a few words on Jadai Alangaram, I did a search in google and I found the following passage in The Little Magazine in a story "Naga Pushpam" by Lakshmi Kannan. I cannot explain Jadai Alangaram better than Lakshmi Kannan. I reproduce the following description of Jadai Alangaram from Lakshmi Kannan's Nagapushpam

"Special days such as Sankranti, Deepavali, Dussehra and Navaratri. The little girls of the household would be dressed in sparkling silk pavadais with matching blouses. The elderly women of the household, that is the mothers, grandmothers or the aunts, would then adorn the girls with ancestral pieces of family jewellery and stand back to fondly admire the loveliness of their efforts. In addition, they would also do a jadai alankaram. They brushed the hair of the girls till it shone, braided it, then decorated it in myriad ways with a variety of flowers — different kinds of jasmine, roses, kanakambaram and of course, the odorous green southern wood, the marukkozhundu. Occasionally, they would also include Nagapushpam, work lovely patterns on it with other flowers. Using a needle and thread, they stitched the flowers over the sword-shaped petals of Nagapushpam. Then, the strong odour of Nagapushpam would easily dominate the rest of the flowers, penetrating the nostrils. It never failed to attract attention."

Now Ready Made Jadai Alangaram is available in the market costing about Rs 150/- . This scene at Koyambedu Market

The day was so blustery and misty. The grass and flowers were growing up new, optimistic in the gusting wind. On the way to her home, she passed a small river and watched as the current danced around the gray stones. Tiny fish darted under the surface and soggy leaves skated on the top. The sun peaked through the clouds and hundreds of shining reflections lit up the miniature river. Cool water splashed onto her legs. She turned and walked away from the water, the wind catching her dress and sending it into cascade of current whipping and pulling in the air. She silently continued down the path as her light scarf pulled her along.

She approached the old home. It was large and white with a porch wrapping three of the sides. The white paint was peeling around the windowsills. Stubborn, intrusive ivy vines were trying to take over the surface, swallowing the fading white. Around the foundation of the house, wild rambling roses rose and gave out small sighs of the palest pink. She pushed open the rod iron gate, which squeaked as it swung inward, and started up the path. Turning around on the porch, she looked out over the house's overgrown front lawn and the pale rocks on the lane.

A smile played on her lips as she planned the seeds that would sow her life in this new place. The wind rose again and added its harmony.