The annual rainy season would start in Kerala in the first week of June. After that, for nearly three months, the land would get soaked in the incessant rainfall. Then the clouds would take a break and the sun will emerge to shine on the green fields and rich vegetation that covers the land. It is time for harvest; it is time for Onam; at least that’s how it used to be...

In 2012, no rain graced the land even weeks after the 1st of June. There are no green fields left to get soaked in the rain and no harvest takes place anywhere to call for a celebration. After three months of drought, when the heat became more oppressive than the hottest summer months, in a land that is fast turning into a concrete jungle, Onam arrives for yet another time.

The legend behind Onam tells of King Maveli visiting his kingdom once every year on the day of Thiruvonam. Rejoicing at the visit of their favourite king, the subjects dress in their best and sing and dance, announcing the arrival of Maveli. The house courtyards would be decorated with 'pookalams' using flowers plucked from the freshly bloomed plants. During the time of the king's arrival, coinciding with the harvest season, people would have the best meal in the whole year, in which would be served a whole variety of vegetable delicacies, known simply as 'onasadya'.

Mythologies aside, Onam is simply the time when people used to enjoy the fruits of their yearlong toil on land.

However, in the year 2012, Kerala has a minimal area of agricultural land and almost all of its traditional flowers have become alien to its children. The reasons that called for the celebration of Onam no longer exist in 2012. Yet, for every Malayali, Onam remains the biggest celebration of the year, and the celebration only seems to get bigger over the years.

An average Malayali of today is caught in an intense, almost psychotic, behavioural pattern of consumerism. Kerala, which was once a beautiful strip of land that yielded everything that its inhabitants needed, is now labelled as an unproductive strip of land whose population is interested only in amassing personal wealth. This wealth arrives mainly from foreign nations, especially the Gulf sector. The weakening rupee might be a nightmare for the nation, but it gladdens the heart of millions of Keralites who earn their wages abroad, in stronger currencies.

The self-centred nature of an average Malayali prevents him from indulging in social welfare for the betterment of the society as a whole. This curious behaviour of the population to indulge in private extravaganzas while forgetting about the primal needs for a welfare state has speedily deteriorated the once thriving production sector. It is safe to say that the state now owns virtually no share to most of the products that reach the market.

The two main highlights of Onam celebration is the 'pookalam' and the 'onasadya'. The flowers for the pookalam have been arriving from Tamil Nadu and other states for many years now. In spite of Onam loosing much of its traditional values, the sale of flowers is still on the rise every year during the season. But the rise in sale is negligent when compared to the rise in prices every year. And a lion's share of the profit made goes to the wholesale dealer who brings the flowers from outside.