The weed that fed a generation during Kerala’s scarce monsoon months
During the scarce monson, plants which usually grew unnoticed in the yard, found pride of place on the dining table.
During the scarce monson, plants which usually grew unnoticed in the yard, found pride of place on the dining table.
During the scarce monson, plants which usually grew unnoticed in the yard, found pride of place on the dining table.
In the old days, Karkidakam, the month of relentless rain, was known as the season of scarcity. By then, the grains and provisions stored at home would often be exhausted. When there was little left in the kitchen, families turned to the leaves and greens that grew in their own yards. That was how many local plants, often dismissed as weeds, became part of the daily meal.
The older generation knew that many of these backyard plants were not useless growth, but edible greens with medicinal value. They helped people stay nourished during a difficult season and strengthened the body against the many illnesses common during the monsoon. Rich in antioxidants, minerals, vitamins, protein and fibre, these greens also aided digestion and helped cleanse the body.
What grew outside became food
The rainy months of June, July and part of August were traditionally considered the time when physical strength was at its lowest. This was why Karkidakam came to be seen as the ideal season to cleanse, rebuild and strengthen the body. It was also the time when leafy greens were consumed the most. There is even an old saying that one must eat ten kinds of leaves during Karkidakam.
During those months, plants such as thalu and thakara, which usually grew unnoticed in the yard, found pride of place on the dining table. It was a time when kitchen economics and health wisdom went hand in hand.
Thakara held a place not only in Ayurveda but also in traditional Chinese medicine. It was used in remedies for constipation, eye ailments and skin diseases.
A plant that follows the rain
Thakara grows well in all parts of the world that receive good rain. The monsoon is its green season. It is found across many Asian countries, Africa and South America. Though the plant dries up after the rainy season, the seeds it leaves behind sprout again with the next rains.
In India, especially in Kerala, thakara was once a common sight. It was also known as vattathakara. It appears in folk songs and oral traditions too. During the monsoon, older generations widely used it as thoran (stir fry) and curry. The plant is known by many names in different languages. In English, it is called ringworm plant, sickle senna and tora. Its scientific name is Cassia tora Linn., now classified as Senna tora.
How to recognise thakara
The plant grows to nearly a metre in height, with clusters of green and light green leaves. The first leaves that sprout are smaller in size. If crushed in the hand, they give off a strong smell. Thakara bears bright yellow flowers, though paler shades are also seen. Its slender pods grow to around 10 to 12 centimetres long, with brownish-black seeds inside. The plant usually sprouts in June and July, sets seed by November, and dries away by January or February.
There is an old proverb: “From yesterday’s rain, today springs golden thakara.”
The very word thakara suggests something that grows on its own, unnoticed and unattended. In Kerala’s midland regions, it was once a common weed. No one sowed it. It simply emerged after the first rains, flourished in open plots and stood lush with leaves and yellow flowers.
A vanishing presence
Today, thakara has become rare. Yards have given way to houses, and open spaces have been divided and built over. That may be one reason for its disappearance.
Its seeds, when roasted and powdered, are said to resemble coffee in smell and colour, but contain no caffeine. The plant is also believed to help ward off pests.
Its leaves are still valued as edible greens. Rather than treating it as a weed and uprooting it, older wisdom reminds us that this too is part of our natural food wealth.
Outside a few rural pockets, thakara is now hard to find. Elders still recall how, during times of scarcity, thalu and thakara helped families survive. Perhaps one day thakara will return as a fashionable dish in a five-star hotel. Before that happens, it may be worth remembering it in its original place — as humble food from Kerala’s soil.