There was a time, not so long ago when a typical south Indian meal was served to the whole family while they were sitting in a line in front of an array of banana leaves. And the women of the house, at least some of them, would serve the food to the household and eat themselves only after the rest had finished. And service was personal, warm and with a predefined protocol.

The salt would be served immediately after the leaf had been hand washed. And then the varieties of powders, pickles, curries and sweets would follow. And the paapads, the salad and so on. Only at the end would steaming hot rice be served. And then, in a grand finale…the ghee. The rule was simple, no one eats till the ghee has been served…and the oldest person has to start eating first.

My grandmother told me that this was by design. All the stuff that was served and placed in the banana leaf in front of you served to get your digestive system working. And as you salivated in anticipation of the meal, the gastric juices did their job.

The only exception was apparently on the day your father or mother passed away. And if you were performing the rituals associated with their death anniversaries.

That day, it would be rice that would be served first. Why? I have no clue why, but that apparently is the custom.

What happened however in my case, and I am sure, in many others…was that the idea of sitting on the floor in front of leaves went out of fashion. We began to sit around dining tables. And began to eat in plates. Worse, we began to serve ourselves. Obviously the elders would by force of habit serve themselves the accompaniments first. Now, as kids my sister and I found the whole waiting game such a waste of time. But we didn’t know what to do about it. Until one day it struck us, in an amazing moment of time management history that we could make the whole process more efficient if we served ourselves rice while the parents stocked up on the curries etc.

Immediately we were warned that this was inauspicious. And told in no uncertain terms that we should follow the family protocol of elders first and then kids, even if we found the south Indian thali protocol hard to digest.

I didn’t think this was a point that invited debate but outside the house, when I ate at restaurants etc., I ate as I thought fit. Rice first. A pour of rasam or saambar on top of the heap. And then the curries. But at home, especially when mum and dad were around I was the good boy and followed rules.

But when I lost my father and mother a few years back, my natural urge to break protocol kicked in and I started serving myself rice first. My wife objected mildly. My kids looked at me with surprise. My in-laws complained to my wife. But apart from the perfunctory nodding of the head, I didn’t react…nor change my preference.

And that was threatening to become an issue when I discovered that I had a killer argument to stop these objections in their track. One day I voiced my opinion that while the rest of the world was content with remembering parents once in a year, I was doing this everyday because I remembered my parents every day. Every day is a taddinam…every day is an anniversary…I said…and my way of remembering parents is by serving myself rice first.

What started off as a lark, what I did in an immature rush…has now become a habit…and over the years become a kind of virtual greeting I send on to my late parents. And I take my first morsel only after asking for their blessings.

Is what I am doing right? Will my children follow the custom? Do my parents appreciate my sentiment? I don’t know! And I am pretty certain I never shall…but I carry on…serving myself rice first…saying hello to mum and dad…it gives me peace…and there can be no arguments about that.

What say?