As always, a timely reminder by Mamatha Subbaiah of what makes up our cultural roots; our inheritance; our sacred land. When we visit Igguthappa temple, the priest reminds us that if we Kodavas do not offer prayers and rice – in reality there will be no deity. That’s equivalent to celebrating Puthari at our AineManes without actually growing paddy/rice in our precious wetlands.
Last week, Americans celebrated Thanksgiving – an occasion to express gratitude and togetherness. It began as a day of giving thanks for the blessings of the harvest and of the preceding year. Various similarly named harvest festival holidays occur throughout the world during autumn. It is celebrated with food, family, and traditions that make it unique.
Grace and gratitude to our ancestors are two of the most precious gifts handed down to us over generations. It is our duty to grow rice – not just as a cultural event but environmentally it is critical to replenish the districts depleting water table. It is encouraging that youngsters in particular are getting back to their AineMane functions and also encouraging their Okkas to cultivate their wetlands. Those who actually customarily sing their ManePaat by visiting their UrKaaras AineManes’ are restoring best practice.
CLN wishes all Kodavas and others who live in Kodagu, the very best on this joyous occasion. We hope that we come together in our respective Ainemanes’ (not in Kodava Samajas in cities and towns) to celebrate and respect our GuruKaronas and our inheritance by cultivating every wetland with paddy in the future!
Request: If you really have to burst leftover firecrackers from Diwali – do so responsibly. The environment (AQI Air Quality Index) is already badly polluted and the Supreme Court has banned firecrackers. – CLN Newsdesk
In Kodagu, festivals are not just dates on a calendar. They are seasons of memory, inheritance, and identity. Among them, Puthari stands tallest – our harvest festival, our thanksgiving to the fields (and ancestors) that once fed both our bodies and our spirit. But today, a bitter truth rises like mist over barren land: Puthari without paddy fields is nothing but a farce – an illusion to assuage our cultural sensibilities.
For generations, the rhythm of Kodava life was set by the bountiful paddy that was grown by our ancestors in the scenic valleys. Festivals, rituals and even the stories whispered by our elders beside the hearth – everything grew out of that golden grain.
When I think of Puthari, my mind does not focus on rituals or lamps or loud celebrations. The memory is deeply rooted in the verdant greenery of the paddy fields. As a child, Puthari meant walking barefoot through stretching carpets of green. The paddy fields were not just land; they were a world of their own – the soft mud holding the imprint of our feet, the breeze carrying the smell of tender grain. Those were the days when the land felt alive, and we belonged to it.
During Puthari, we children would run along the narrow bunds, our laughter chasing dragonflies. The elders would walk slowly behind us, their sickles glinting, ready to cut the first sheaf. There was pride in their stride – the pride of growing precious grain and that was the epicentre of the celebration!
The fields whispered with life. Birds rose in flocks at the slightest movement. Water flowed between the rows like silver threads. And the paddy … the paddy stood tall, nodding gently as though blessing the harvest season with a bountiful crop.
That memory is not just nostalgic; it is a reminder of what Puthari truly meant, a celebration rooted in the soil. A joy that came from seeing months of labour standing before us in abundance – green gold. A festival that began long before the lamp was lit; it began in the ploughing and caring for the crop in the fields…in the footsteps of our ancestors.
Therefore when we come upon abandoned wetlands, I realize we are losing more than land. We are losing the very memories that shaped our childhood and the memories that gave meaning to festivals, the memories that told us who we are. The blood sweat and tears of generations that it took to create these fertile wetlands.
When I look back at my childhood, Puthari was a landscape. But look around today – where are those fields? Where is that green that once stretched like a living prayer across the valleys?
Construction has swallowed wetlands. Concrete has replaced marshes. Ancestral paddy lands lie fallow, abandoned, or sold. And yet every year, we light lamps, shout “Poli Poli Deva,” and behave as though nothing has changed. How long will we celebrate a harvest that we no longer grow?
When we lose our paddy fields, we do not just lose crops; we lose memory, we lose culture, we lose the respect of the Goddess on whose behalf we were the custodians of Her land. We lose our inheritance and we lose the right to call Puthari a harvest festival.
We cannot pretend to honour tradition while ignoring the land that created it. Festivals do not survive on practice alone; they survive on continuity and respect for the earth. The moment the land disappears, the festival becomes nothing more than a ritual without a root.
What are we losing?
- The landscape that shaped our childhood
- The pride of growing what we celebrate and offer at our temples
- The link between ritual and reality
- The essence of who we are as Kodavas
- Kodagu stands at a crossroad. Either we acknowledge this quiet undoing in our own backyard, or we risk losing not just a crop, but an entire cultural inheritance.
The question before us is simple: Who will save the sacred wetlands that once nourished all of us?
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Best wishes to all …. More golden paddy fields in future and no color pencil illustrations!
I feel vindicated by this well articulated post. That’s the reason why I cultivate paddy fields on the farm..even though people tell me it’s not viable. But I’m sure our GuruKarona and Cauveryamme will bless us.
Very true and well said.
Paddy field cultivation and the resultant crop is a must for PUTHARI festival.
Yet another timely and honest article. A heartfelt courageous peice, one that speaks not just for you, for Kodagu itself.Mamatha’s articles are truly admirable.
Very powerful thought -provoking and nostalgic article by Ms. Kodandera Mamatha Subbaiah.
As a student during mid 80s, while travelling from Siddapur to Virajpet to attend my high school at St Annes, sitting behind the driver and soaking the serenity of the paddy fields from Ammathi, Kavadi, Bilgunda, Kommethodu till Aimangala was a delight
We in Kodagu have to retain the fundamentals of our culture. Kodavas are most respected everywhere for the uniqueness of a very special culture, evolved over centuries by our ancestors, which needs to be steadfastly carried forward to and by future generations.
Losing our wetlands to create concrete jungles should not be accepted at any cost. Imagine the effort that the ancestors must have endured to create them. The worst situation is where people who have no attachment to the land leave no stone unturned to make the endeavour into a real estate profit maximisation exercise. The most rampant case is the aftermath of the sale of the iconic BBTC plantations and the multitude of luxury resorts coming up in sensitive areas.
Respect inherited land – it’s NOT FOR US TO SELL – its sacred and meant to last with the family for generations!
Wonderful article! Strikes with rare honesty and emotional depth. It carries voice of kodagu with both pride and pain. Thank you Mamatha for for reminding the readers that festivals are not for display. But for remembering who we are as a people, rooted in land, Labour and legacy. This is a marvelous price that stays with the reader.
Profound sentiments and insights very well enunciated by the author. Made us feel her pain! And gave us food for thought as the festival approaches. Happy Puthari to all
Puthari for me has only been Poli Poli Devaa, Thambuttu and crackers. Well after reading Mamthas article now I know Puthari is beyond the 3 what I thought. Mamatha brings a totally different perspective for PUTHARI. Thanks to people like Mamatha who show us a totally different side of our festivals. Hats off once again Mamatha. Keep it coming
Appreciate the article on preserving the paddy fields and importance continued Rice cultivation.
Sharing a chapter from the online book “The Coorg Odyssey”, written with an intent to create awareness among our kids. Its an humble effort to reiterate the importance of rice cultivation.
https://www.thecoorgodyssey.com/the-coorg-odyssey-collection/valleys-the-rice-basket-of-the-land-and-the-oath
Very nice article by Coffee Land….
Our ancestors began celebrating Puthari when paddy cultivation was introduced .. a time when the struggle for food reduced significantly. This festival was born out of gratitude for the harvest, and they celebrated it in a simple and meaningful way.
Traditions have great value, but following them without understanding their true purpose can make them lose meaning. Puthari is a harvest festival , without paddy cultivation, the essence of the celebration becomes incomplete.
For Kodavas, every family’s roots lie in their Ainmane. Celebrating Puthari as a Vokka in one’s Ainmane or at one’s own home in Coorg maintains the cultural and traditional authenticity. Celebrations in Kodava Samajas, or outside of Coorg, all going to Igguthappa temple may keep the spirit alive, but they cannot fully connect to the soil and heritage that gave birth to the festival.
Let us continue to honour the land, the harvest, and the legacy our ancestors created, in the way it was truly meant to be celebrated.
A very good article.
Wonderfully crafted piece! This article is so vivid that it immediately transports the reader back to cherished memories. Describing Puthari as “a harvest festival without the harvest” conveys the sadness with remarkable clarity. And the line about how “the songs remain, but the paddy fields that once carried them are fading away” is incredibly moving.
This isn’t just a nostalgic reflection—it’s a powerful reminder of how cultural traditions drift when the very landscape that shaped them begins to change.
Traditions are way of life…With times traditional rituals are drifting apart and so are our lives. We are moving away from our roots and rooting ourselves in some unknown terrain and our growth is becoming more uncertain with every passing day. Introspective article
What a beautifully written article! The words are so evocative that they instantly pull you back into memory lanes. The way you described Puthari as ‘a harvest festival without the harvest’ captures the heartbreak so perfectly. And when you wrote that ‘the songs remain, but the paddy fields that once echoed them are disappearing’, it truly hits hard.
This piece is not just nostalgic, it’s a reminder of how traditions lose their roots when the land itself changes. Absolutely loved reading it.
This article is a heartfelt and timely reminder of what Puthari truly stands for. It beautifully captures how our identity as Kodavas is rooted in the wetlands our ancestors nurtured. The contrast between the vibrant paddy fields of our childhood and today’s abandoned lands is a painful truth we can no longer ignore.
As the article rightly says, we cannot celebrate a harvest we no longer grow. Rituals lose meaning when disconnected from the land that created them. Reviving paddy cultivation is not just cultural pride — it is essential for preserving our heritage and the environment.
A powerful call urging us to honour our AineManes, our Gurukaronas, and our inheritance by bringing life back to our fields.