Every Navaratri, as I see homes transform into beautiful displays of dolls, hear stories of Golu visits, and think of the aroma of sundal and the exchange of thamboolam, I find myself reflecting on something beyond the festivities.
I love the tradition of Golu. There is something beautiful about generations coming together to preserve customs, share stories, sing, cook, and welcome people into their homes. Yet, every year, a small thought crosses my mind: why has a celebration that involves the entire family become, socially, a women-only affair?
Think about the days of preparation. The lofts are opened, boxes of dolls are brought down, the steps are assembled, the backdrop is decorated, and every doll is carefully placed. There is cleaning, shopping, cooking, planning, and endless attention to detail. In many homes, this is a family effort, with husbands, fathers, sons, and sometimes even the younger children pitching in..
Yet, when the Golu is ready, the invitations often seem to have a distinctly feminine guest list.
Women gather for the vethalai paaku, singing, conversations, and, of course, the delicious food. But where do the men fit into this picture?
I have often wondered about another little irony. Many women who do not drive are dropped off at Golu visits by their husbands, sons, or other male family members. The men bring them to the doorstep but rarely walk in with them. Some wait outside, while others return later to pick them up. Is it because they are not interested, or because the invitation was never meant for them in the first place?
Sometimes, men may prefer to stay away, and that is perfectly fine. But perhaps a simple, “Please come along with your family,” could make a difference.
Traditionally, inviting women and offering them thamboolam during Navaratri is associated with honouring feminine energy and the Goddess. It is a beautiful custom, and there is no reason to take away from its significance. But celebrating the feminine need not mean excluding the rest of the family.
Perhaps we can make room for everyone. Let fathers and sons join the singing, serve sundal, admire the dolls, and enjoy the conversations. Let the boys grow up seeing Golu not simply as a festival their mothers and grandmothers organise for other women, but as a tradition the entire family creates and celebrates together.
This is not about changing tradition for the sake of change. It is about embracing togetherness and creating shared memories.
Behind every beautiful Golu is often a family working together, preserving memories, passing down stories, and keeping a tradition alive.
Maybe the real beauty of Golu lies not just in the dolls arranged on the steps, but in the people who come together to make it happen.
