The Sun heads homewards

Every year India celebrates the end of winter and the farmers rejoice as the sun starts moving northwards to our side of the world. So did I this time, in a little tamilian village where I discovered and interpreted to some French photojournalists the whys and wherefores of the festival of Pongal. Our enthusiastic little team reached early on Day One, the day the village was to thank the Sun God. As the elaborate 'kolams' shone colourfully on the main street, the village chief's family gracioulsy welcomed us and readied to cook the pongal in new pots with freshly harvested rice and lentils. As the pots boiled over, signifying a year full of happiness and prosperity, the family stood around and chanted in unison, (Boil,boil,boil over my little pot) "Pongal-o-Pongal".
Day Two was dedicated to the farmers' closest friends and members of the bovine community, the cows and bulls who were elaborately decorated, though not without a touch of loyalty towards the local political parties. The bulls had their horns painted in colours of the favored political parties. They were then garlanded, belled and finally brought together near a temple for a procession through the village. As they marched to the fields to the beating of drums and loud noises from their keepers, the villagers followed close behind keeping a safe distance of course. The climax of the evening though was to be a bull race after the customary rituals in the center of the fields. So as soon as the rituals ended, the bulls rushed off, their keepers in tow all the way back to the temple where a little token of appreciation was reserved for the one which got there first. So as the sun set the lucky winner was paraded around by his exhilarated keeper.
With that fitting finale to the festivities, our French friends wrapped up their equipment, more than happy with their achievements and promised the chief a copy of the film once edited. And hence we headed homewards too.