Surpassing any other local food combination, rice and curry has emerged as a peculiar meal in countries like England.
The story of rice is much more robust in the Asian subcontinent, where traditions have a majority of meals listed around rice preparations. Its global popularity doesn’t come as a surprise, but there’s much more excitement in a harvest among the rural population. Our tropical regions produce nutritious and tasty varieties of rice throughout the year, depending on the weather conditions of the region.
In the past, the annual harvest meant much more than gaining a sacred cellar full of rice, it was also the season of festivities and games. There was societal harmony, since the whole community joined hands to thank Nature. Men and women worked together to reap paddy, before an exciting sequence of procedures transformed the golden grains into our favourite rice.
Children either rendered a helping hand or leapt into the wet fields to play. In the rhythm of monsoon showers, their bodies soaked in mud, farmers belted out upbeat folk songs while carrying bundles of paddy, which their dancing legs would stomp on later at night, separating the grains.
We have fond memories of sleepless nights during the harvest seasons, of enjoying fun-filled evenings spent interacting with local men, and of sumptuous rice kanji savoured with seasonal delicacies specially prepared on this occasion.
Those times, people carried a sense of responsibility and children grew up together without religious or material differences. Today, agriculture has become a farmer’s ‘business’. Unbearable expenses and a general lack of enthusiasm decides the outcome of every harvest.
There’s a reason why I touched the rice story. As a part of this year’s harvest, we at Rasa Gurukul are celebrating the true layers of the enchanting processes of the harvest, to show the world how significant it is for the future generations to experience the ancient agricultural practices.
While a lot of us live far away from the source and rely on supermarkets for our supply of food, children are completely missing out on their connection with nature and particularly, with farmers who are the most important components of our food chain.
A huge number of farmers are undergoing a tough time, isolation and price wars, accumulated debts and changing weather patterns. It’s important to mobilise the young population to recognise and appreciate their contributions.
A significant item of the 24-hour-long festival on September 16, 2017, is playing in a watery paddy field after the harvest. A group of tourists were taken to the wet fields, where they played with locals. Those youngsters leapt into the wet land and had a blissful mud bath. It was unbelievable fun for them— they went on for five hours.
That was a good enough example of how young people are prepared to experiment and feel ecstatic about an old tradition. It was just a matter of holding their hands and walking down to a village, where life is still simple and unchanged.
Under the bright blue sky, in the interim relief after a moderate rain, Nanu, a veteran farmer and folk performer, kept singing aloud, gazing at the first flowers of a rice shrub. This was the gist of what he sang: “We will have a good harvest and a fantastic payasam after the 24-hour-long celebration in this field, a much-awaited journey back to my childhood.”
(The author is a London-based restaurateur who owns the Rasa chain of restaurants)