Mythreyi and her family had a satisfying darśan at Tirumalā. Hearts filled with peace and calm, Mythreyi along with her mom headed to meet her grandparents in a small village named Kāvassēri, in the Palghat district of Kerala, while her father and grandfather returned home. 

The warm rays of the morning sun kissed Mythreyi's face as she popped her head out of the car and inhaled the scent of the village. Cows grazed on empty lands and people bathed in the beautiful pond that was at the intersection of the four main lanes of the village. A sense of tranqility prevailed. The car stopped in front of the gate, while Mythreyi was still lost in the beauty of the village. “Mythu, get out of the car,” called out her mom. 

Upon entering the house, Mythreyi dropped her bags at the entrance and she looked for her grandmother and her little cousin while inhaling the aroma of coconut oil and fresh spices. 

“Ammamaaaa…..Ammammaaa….Meenuuuu……..Meenu, where have you gone?” screamed Mythreyi as she went around the house. She could faintly hear her ammamā’s voice from the pūja room, as she sang 

mēlukōvayya mammēlukō rāma
mēlaina sītā samēta nā bhāgyamā

Hugging her grandmother, Mythreyi said “Hiiii Ammamaaaaaa……how are you? Is your pūja not over yet?” 

Rubbing her cheeks with her granddaughter and swaying her head, Ammamā said in a loving tone, “Not yet kōndēy, I just began. You must be hungry, go have your breakfast. Māmi has made Puṭṭu̱ and Kaḍala curry with fried Pappaḍam.” 

“Yeah, yeah, the house smelled divine as we entered, but I want you and Meenu to join us. Where is Meenu and what is this singing between your pūja? When will you finish Ammamā?” asked Mythreyi. 

“Oh! I do Arccanai everyday, this is part of my pūja ritual, Kōndēy. Ihave just woken up my Lord by singing this kṛti. Meenu has gone to the temple with Māmi. She will be back soon. Where is my daughter, by the way?", asked Ammamā.

“She is upstairs, talking to Māmā. Ammamā, you must tell me how you do your daily pūja, is it  Arccanai, one of the nine forms of Bhakti?” asked Mythreyi curiously. 

“Oh! You seem to know a lot da kōndēy, yes yes, it is the same Arccanai,” said Ammamā.

“I am learning about nava-vida-bhakti in my pāṭṭu̱ class, Ammamā. That’s how I know.” said Mythreyi.

“Let us discuss all of this later. First go eat,” insisted Ammamā. 

Tātā was cracking jokes and laughing with Mythreyi at the breakfast table as Māmi and Meenu returned from the temple and joined them. The house was filled with joy and laughter. With the clinking of the spoons and the giggling of the cousins, the table was noisy and happy. Mythreyi’s mom smiled and exchanged glances with her brother, rejoicing in the moment. Soon after the breakfast, the children went on to play, while the mother and daughter caught up with their gossip. 

The day went by. The family gathered on their terrace for a moonlit dinner. All the left over from the breakfast and lunch were served at the dinner, but what made it special was the entire family sat in a semicircle around Ammamā and food was served in their hand in turns. Vacation and bed time in Ammamā's house is incomplete without story time. Mythreyi demanded that she be told about her Ammamā's daily pūja rituals instead of a story. Thus, began Ammamā….

"Every morning, after my daily chores, I sit down to pray. Of all the forms of Bhakti, Arccana is my preferred way. It is basically the ritualistic worship of the God. As you know, we have a small Kṛṣṇa idol in our pūja room. According to me Rāma and Kṛṣṇa are no different as they are all incarnations of Lord Mahā Viṣṇu. I treat him like my own and welcome him with the kṛti-"

“heccarikagā rārā hē rāmacandra,” sang Meenakshi.

“Hey! It is in the rāga yadukulakāmbhōji, I know this. I didn’t know that you sing, Meenu. You sing very well. Have you also been learning music?,” asked Mythreyi.

“Oh! Mythu, pāṭṭi sings it every other day. How can I not learn it?,” said Meenakshi.

“Once I invoke and welcome Kṛṣṇa, the next is to perform ablution and dress him up to my heart’s content. Tyāgarāja in his Hindōlavasantam kṛti, rārāsītā, beautifully expresses this ritual in the lines ‘baṅgāru valvalu nē bāguga kaṭṭeda’ , he says let me dress you up with golden garments and the lines ‘sāreku nuduṭanu kastūri tilakamu peṭṭeda, sāramaina muktā hāramula diddeda’ he says I shall apply kastūri tilakam on your forehead and dress you up with pearl ornaments. I sing these kṛti-s as I perform the rituals”, said Ammamā. 

“Ammamā, I have also learnt a few utsava sampradāya kṛti-s and divyanāma kṛti-s. May I also join you in your daily pūja until I am here?” Asked Mythreyi.

“Certainly kōndēy, you can. Meenu joins me as and when she finds time. I am glad that you children are interested in these, but it is now time to go to bed,” said grandma.

“Pāṭṭi, but you haven’t put your Kṛṣṇa to sleep yet,” giggled Meenu.

“Yes yes, going now. Sleep tight kutties,” said her grandmother and left the room.

“Hahaha… this is also a part of pāṭṭi's daily ritual. She will now offer a glass of milk and sway her Kṛṣṇa to sleep by singing ‘lāli ūgavē mā pāli daivamā’ in Nīlāmbari and ‘madhu śarkarayāna pālu mariyāragiñci’, meaning partake boiled milk mixed with honey and sugar and rest well on the bed of flowers. ‘pūla pānupu mīda bāga pūrṇa pavvaḷiñcu’ in āhiri,” said Meenu only to realise that Mythu was half asleep.

The following morning, as Tātā plucked flowers for pūja in the back yard, Meenu and Mythu returned from the temple and joined him. Inhaling the fresh air with the fragrance of the jasmine, Mythu was singing ‘tulasī bilva mallikādi jalaja sumamula pūjala kaikonavē’ in Kēdāragaula, which means, deign to accept the worship performed (by me) with leaves of tulasi, bilva, malli , jalaja and other fragrant flowers. 

“Hey! We seem to have all of these leaves and flowers in our back yard. Also, this kṛti is definitely in pāṭṭi's everyday list,” exclaimed Meenu. 

With a basket full of flowers for Arccana, Meenu and Mythu joined their grandma for the pūja. Towards the end of the pūja, grandma offered pāyasam, rice and other savouries as neivēdyam. Mythreyi fittingly sang ‘sāramaina divyānnamu ṣaḍrasa yuta bhakṣaṇamulu dāra sōdarādulatō tyāgarāja vinuta pālāragimpavē' in tōḍi rāga where Tyāgarāja says partake the tasty sacred rice and eatables consisting of six different flavours, along with milk. As a final ritual, grandma performed hārati, while Meenu and Mythu joined her in singing ‘patiki hāratī rē sītā’ in the rāga suruṭṭi. 

Tātā and Māmā were already at the breakfast table, as Meenu and Mythu sat along with them to relish their soft and fluffy āppam and stew. This way Mythu spent her summer break in a peaceful way at Kavasserry, in Kerala.  

“The beauty of this village, Māmi's yummy food, the weather, the kṛti-s I learnt from Ammamā, the jokes Tātā cracked, the fun time with Māmā and Meenu, I have loads to tell Advait when I meet him,” Mythreyi thought to herself.