“The kites are part of our celebration, but there’s a deeper meaning to everything we do today.” Daadi reached for a small box filled with til (sesame seeds) and gur (jaggery). “Here, help me make these laddoos while I tell you a story – a story about a father and son who were as different as day and night.”
Tarkik moved closer, intrigued. He had always loved his grandmother’s stories, especially the way she wove science and mythology together.
“Long ago, there lived the mighty Sun God, Surya, and his son, Shani Dev. Shani was born to Surya’s second wife, Chhaya, who was the shadow of his first wife, Sangya.” Daadi began rolling the til-gur mixture into small balls as she spoke. “Because Chhaya performed intense penance in the sun during her pregnancy, Shani was born with a dark complexion.”
“Like how melanin protects our skin from the sun?” Tarkik interjected, remembering his biology lessons.
“Precisely! But Surya, who was known for his brilliant radiance, couldn’t understand this scientific principle. He doubted whether Shani was truly his son because of his dark appearance.” Daadi’s voice grew soft with emotion. “This created a rift between father and son that grew deeper over time.”
Tarkik’s hands stilled over the laddoos. “That’s terrible, Daadi. How could Surya Dev judge his son like that?”
“Sometimes, beta, even the wisest, can be blinded by their prejudices. But here’s where Makar Sankranti becomes special.” She pointed to the sun streaming through their window. “On this day, Surya enters Makar Rashi, which is ruled by Shani. It’s like a father visiting his son’s house, setting aside his ego to make amends.”
Daadi reached for the black til seeds and black urad dal kept for the puja. “You see these black-coloured offerings? They hold special significance today. Just as Shani Dev is dark-complexioned, we offer these black ingredients. It’s our way of honouring Shani’s form and accepting that beauty comes in all colours. On this day, even wearing black clothes is considered auspicious – quite unusual for our festivals, isn’t it?”
The significance wasn’t lost on Tarkik. He thought about his father, who was often away on business trips but always made time to visit during festivals. “So Makar Sankranti is about fixing relationships?”
“Yes, but it’s about so much more.” Daadi got up and retrieved an old astronomy book from her shelf. Opening it to a well-worn page, she showed Tarkik a diagram of the Earth’s orbit. “See how the Earth’s axis is tilted? This tilt and our planet’s orbit around the sun create our seasons. Makar Sankranti marks the beginning of the sun’s apparent northward journey, bringing longer days and the promise of spring.”
“That’s why it’s also a harvest festival!” Tarkik exclaimed, remembering the farmers in their town celebrating with special pujas.
