Commemorating Pongal

Today's Pongal, which is a Tamil harvest festival rooted in gratitude, renewal and the intimate relationship between human life and nature. Celebrated each year in mid-January, it marks the end of the agricultural cycle and gives thanks to the Sun, the land, cattle and the labour that sustains daily life. While it has long been observed within Tamil communities, its presence and visibility in Penang have grown steadily over the past two decades, becoming part of the island’s wider cultural landscape.

Historically, Pongal is no recent invention. References to the festival appear in Chola-period inscriptions, including a land grant recorded during the reign of Kulottunga I in the 11th century, as well as in devotional Tamil literature such as Tiruvempavai. Even the dish itself of rice cooked with milk and sweetened with jaggery until it boils over has evolved across centuries, appearing in temple offerings and royal kitchens long before it became a household ritual. The word “pongal” means “to boil over”, a symbolic gesture of abundance and prosperity.

The festival unfolds over four days. Bhogi marks the discarding of the old, both literally and symbolically, with homes cleaned and unwanted items burned to welcome renewal. The second day, Thai Pongal or Surya Pongal, is the heart of the celebration. Freshly harvested rice is cooked in a clay pot at sunrise, often outdoors, until it spills over. The offering is first made to the Sun God, acknowledging his role in sustaining life. Mattu Pongal follows, honouring cattle for their role in agriculture, and the festival concludes with Kanum Pongal, a day of visits, picnics and communal gatherings.

In Penang, Pongal was once largely observed within temples and family compounds. My own first encounter with a public Pongal celebration was in Glugor, about a year after George Town received UNESCO World Heritage recognition. At the time, it felt modest and local, rooted firmly in the neighbourhood. Since then, the festival’s profile has grown noticeably. Over the past 20 years, public Pongal events have become more visible, supported by temples, community groups and state bodies. Kolam designs now spill onto pavements, ceremonial cooking takes place in open spaces and celebrations increasingly draw curious onlookers from outside the Tamil community.

This growing awareness mirrors Penang’s broader embrace of cultural heritage. Just as Chinese clan houses and Malay traditions are publicly celebrated, Pongal has found space to be seen, explained and appreciated. It remains, at its core, a festival of thanksgiving and humility, but in Penang today it also stands as a reminder that shared rituals, when allowed to be visible, enrich the life of the city as a whole.