Hosatu Habba

Tradition With A Twist

Ah, Vijayadashami, the triumphant 10th day, when we raise a cheer for “hostuhabba,” our joyous celebration of the bountiful Harvest. Every homestead proudly displays its “Kadiru,” those slender paddy shoots with their sheaves of dry grain, safeguarding our precious seed bank. It’s a time of revelry, steeped in the rich traditions of Tulu culture, where Navaratri beckons us back to our roots, to the worship of the mother goddess.

Picture this: the air thick with the aroma of freshly harvested rice, simmering in the creamy milk drawn from newly plucked coconuts—our beloved “kayi halu ganji.” And what’s a feast without a tantalizing “tarkari uppinakayi,” or as we might whimsically dub it, “achari kachumbari”? Here, a medley of garden-fresh vegetables dance in a zesty pickle masala, teasing our palates with their tangy allure. From tender greens to succulent roots, both dry and drenched in a luscious gravy, they grace our tables alongside bowls of fragrant “payasam,” its sweetness kissed by coconut milk, not the customary dairy.

Of course, no feast worth its salt would neglect to offer a hearty nod to proteins, served forth by sundried pulses and crisped papads. Ah, but this year brought a twist to tradition, for circumstances forbade the customary gathering of friends and kin. Fear not, for I, ever the ingenious soul, borrowed a leaf—or perhaps a bento box—from our Japanese brethren.

In the land of the rising sun, the bento box is more than mere sustenance; it’s a vessel of gratitude, a silent messenger of intent. Within its compartments lie a symphony of flavors, each one a tribute to the five culinary senses: sweet, sour, salty, bitter, and that elusive umami. And thus, inspired by my latest foray into the world of home-cooked lunches, I seized upon this noble custom.

Gone are the days of assorted sweets; instead, behold the “gratitude box,” brimming with a full meal, carefully packed with love and reverence. As the Japanese do, so do we, setting our intentions with each carefully arranged morsel.

So, as Navaratri draws nigh, let us feast not only on the bounty of our fields but also on the bonds of kinship and the joy of shared meals, whether in person or through the humble bento box, a testament to tradition’s enduring spirit.

Navarathri Gollu