A Dubai office Onam: Sadhya, jasmines and finding home away from home

For eight years of my working life, I never celebrated Onam at the office—not in the traditional way, at least, with the full sadhya on a banana leaf. In my first job back in Delhi, we exchanged greetings, but there were no other Malayalis around, so no Onam Sadhya. My sadhyas were always at home, where we’d invite our closest people over and share a meal together. For me, Onam was never about the workplace; it was always about family, with parents and extended relatives gathered around the table.

Well, at least, till I moved to UAE.

You don’t forget the first time that you celebrated Onam in office. I won’t. Two years on, it’s still one of my most vivid memories. We dressed up well, though admittedly as my colleague reminded me later, my saree was a little too long and was in desperate need of constant pinning. But these glitches aside, we celebrated Onam, in full swing. My artistic teammate set about making the pookalam carefully, with all of us helping and contributing with flowers.

Another colleague brought jasmines that we could wear on our hair and wrists.

There was a smell of flowers in the newsroom that day. And the excitement set in quickly, as we had pre-ordered the Sadhya for everyone in our team. Most of us are Malayalis and even those who weren’t, would never say no to a real feast. We laid out the banana leaves on tables in the canteen, and served each dish---I am not a real pro at it, so my teammate had to keep explaining the sequence of the dishes. And I remember the atmosphere vividly that day; there was a joy in the exhaustion of eating, and enjoying the Sadhya, so much so, that no one wanted to wanted to get back to work. I think I remember saying, “I need to just sleep, now.”

That was my first real Onam celebration in the UAE. There may be more in the future—or perhaps not—but there’s always something bittersweet about the first. Especially when you’re still a newcomer in the city, discovering the little pieces of home that have always lived within you, even if you never truly noticed them before.

Until then, my husband and I would just dress up quickly, snap a photo to send to our parents, and then change back into our regular clothes. Sometimes we’d mark the day with a ghee roast at a restaurant, but that was about it. The one and only office Onam I’ve experienced reminded me of how deeply the festival has been woven into my life.

I always thought I was fine without the traditional celebrations, but it made me a little homesick—for the little things back home: my mother preparing the dishes, the sound of laughter echoing through the house, and, most of all, the scent of fresh jasmines. There’s something about the fragrance of those flowers—it brings you home, no matter where in the world you are. And if that feeling of home finds you in the office, even for just a few hours, why not?