Time, one might say, is the greatest judge of all.
Over a long enough interval, time has always brought the truth about most things to light. Which is why people value their traditions so highly-traditions have survived the questions posed by time and have earned the trust of the people that follow them.
Which is why the word ‘tradition’ carries with it a certain weight. The weight of practices formed over years of trial and error. The weight of customs that have been established after generations of experimentation.
Perhaps, the weight of time itself.
We are one of the oldest nations in the world, our roots stretching all the way back to the Indus Valley civilization; it follows that we also have the oldest traditions. In Kerala, in the south of India, one of these traditions is the use of coconut oil.
Excuse us, not coconut oil. Pure Virgin coconut oil. What’s the difference you ask?
A tradition moulded over centuries of hand-picking the perfect coconut. A tradition founded over fathers teaching their sons how to remove the white meat from the coconuts. A tradition vetted by the years it took to perfect the method of cold processing to extract pure coconut oil. A tradition that feels like a coconut-oil massage from appa on a cold winter morning; a tradition that tastes like a batch of amma’s freshly fried batch of vada.
Now, as a species we may have come a long way-in almost all fields, human ingenuity has let us take monumental strides forward.
But sometimes, it takes a step back to see the way forward. To open up to the methods that time has tried and tested.
To open up to tradition.
The tradition of purity straight from the fields of Kuttiyadi.
The tradition of Happy Grove.