KLANG, Oct 19 — As Deepavali approaches every year, the home of 65-year-old retiree Rageswary Palaney in Taman Sri Andalas would come alive. The merry atmosphere is not just of the festive season, but with the unmistakable aroma of freshly fried muruku wafting through the air.
Year after year, Rageswary kept a cherished family tradition alive by ensuring that the making of the traditional muruku is made by hand. For her, the Festival of Lights is not only a celebration of faith, but also a symbol of love and togetherness that binds her family across generations.
“Since I was little, I loved helping my grandmother knead the muruku dough. I can still remember the fragrant smell and the laughter we shared while making it together. It’s more than just food — it’s a memory I’ll always treasure,” she said with a warm smile.
What began as a childhood pastime became a small source of income for Rageswary. Insisting on doing everything the traditional way, Rageswary ensured that every step — from soaking and drying rice, grinding it into flour, and roasting dhal — is all mixed by hand before forming the dough.
“I still go to the mill to grind the flour. The amount of butter, salt, and water must be just right. Only then will the muruku turn out crispy and perfect,” she said proudly.
As Deepavali draws near, her home transforms into a lively mini factory.
“My children and grandchildren all come to help. Some knead the dough, some press it, and others do the frying. The house will be filled with the aroma of muruku, the sound of laughter, and endless chatter. That’s the true meaning of Deepavali for us,” she shared fondly.
Rageswary also recalled a lighthearted memory that still makes her chuckle.
“There was one time my mother forgot to add sesame seeds to the mixture. We only realised it when my father asked about it! Since then, I always make sure all the ingredients are ready beforehand,” she laughed.
For her, muruku-making is no simple task — it’s an art form that requires patience and precision.
“If the oil isn’t hot enough, the muruku won’t be crispy. That’s the difference between store-bought ones and those made at home. When you make it yourself, it’s filled with love,” she stated.
Rageswary said that each time she fries a batch of muruku, it feels like reliving the same timeless connection that ties three generations together.
“Now my grandchildren know how to make muruku too. Just like I learned from my grandmother, they’re learning from me. This is the legacy I want to keep alive,” she said.
Still, Rageswary admitted to feeling a little worried seeing younger generations drifting away from traditional practices.
“We have to protect our heritage ourselves. As long as the elders are still around, the young should take the chance to learn from them.”
In her home filled with the fragrance of muruku and the warmth of family, the true spirit of Deepavali shines through — a celebration of love, legacy, and gratitude that endures through time.
