For Riya Shibu, Onam has never been only about elaborate celebrations or festive rituals. The actress associates the festival with family, friends, food and the simple happiness of being together.

Her memories of Onam stretch back to school days filled with athapookalam competitions, vadamvali, payasam and family gatherings. Today, however, the festival carries a slightly different meaning for her. As work and college commitments have taken her away from home during the festive season, she says the people around her have become even more important to how she experiences Onam.

This year brings an especially memorable addition to the celebrations: Riya’s four-month-old nephew.

“Onam is mainly about the people we spend time with and the feeling of togetherness. The comfort you share with your friends and family is what makes Onam special,” she says.

For Riya, that sense of togetherness is what turns a traditional festival into a personal celebration.

A New Member Makes This Onam Special

One of the biggest reasons Riya is looking forward to this year’s Onam is the arrival of a new member in her family.

Her four-month-old nephew will be celebrating his first Onam, giving the festival an added emotional significance for the family.

“We have a new member to celebrate Onam with, and that’s the most exciting part of my Onam this year. He will be wearing his little mundu, and I get to play with him,”

Riya says.

The image of a baby dressed in a traditional mundu adds a particularly personal touch to her plans. For someone who connects Onam so strongly with family, welcoming the youngest member into the festivities naturally becomes one of the highlights.

It also reflects how festivals evolve as families grow. Traditions that once belonged to childhood are passed on to another generation, creating new memories alongside the old ones.

‘My Childhood Onam Was About Running Around and Getting Distracted by Payasam’

When Riya looks back at her childhood Onam celebrations, she remembers energy rather than elaborate planning.

Her school years included the familiar festive activities of athapookalam competitions and vadamvali, although she admits she was not exactly the star participant in the tug-of-war.

“I’d always want to participate in vadamvali, but no one would take me on their team, thinking they’d lose. I wasn’t really that strong!”

Her description of childhood Onam is filled with humour.

Rather than spending hours carefully arranging flowers or concentrating on competitions, she says she was more interested in running around and enjoying everything happening around her.

“Mostly, my childhood Onam was about running around, being involved in everything and getting distracted by payasam.”

Even her contribution to the athapookalam and vadamvali appears to have been limited.

“I’d put two flowers in the athapookalam and run off. During vadamvali, I’d hype everyone up for two or three minutes, hold the rope just for the sake of it, and run away,”

she recalls.

The anecdote captures the carefree quality of childhood festivals: participation was often less about winning and more about simply being part of the excitement.

The Quiet Joy After an Onam Sadhya

For Riya, some of the best parts of Onam happen after the major celebrations are over.

Getting dressed, taking photographs, eating a long sadhya and eventually falling asleep with a full stomach form what she describes as an almost perfect festive routine.

“We get dressed thinking we’re going to do something, but then we just eat and sit with our bellies full.”

The first part of the day, she says, is usually devoted to compliments and photographs. Then attention inevitably shifts toward the most anticipated part of the celebration: the meal.

“The first 10 minutes are spent going, ‘Oh, you all look so pretty!’ Then there’ll be another 10 minutes of taking photos, and for the next two hours, the discussion will be, ‘OK, when is the sadhya?’”

Once the feast is finished, the pace slows down completely.

A nap follows, creating what Riya describes as an especially peaceful feeling.

“After that, there’s this feeling of, ‘Wow, life is so perfect. I just had a good sadhya, and the sun is setting.’”

It is an uncomplicated picture of Onam, but perhaps one that many families will recognise: festive clothes, food, conversation, photographs and eventually a well-earned rest.

Why Riya Has Missed Onam Celebrations in Recent Years

Although Onam remains important to Riya, work and college have made it difficult for her to celebrate the festival at home in recent years.

She says she has frequently found herself travelling to Chennai around Onam, meaning her most recent full-scale celebration was during her school days.

“I always end up travelling to Chennai around Onam. The last time I really celebrated the festival was when I was in school,”

she recalls.

Her college years brought their own set of amusing disappointments.

Riya says she once tried taking the initiative to organise an Onam celebration, only to find that nobody seemed interested in responding.

Eventually, she gave up on the idea.

The following day, however, she arrived at college without wearing a Kerala sari and discovered that everyone else had dressed for the occasion.

Her response was characteristically humorous: a sadhya became the remedy for her disappointment.

The story illustrates how festive plans can sometimes become victims of busy schedules, particularly for young people studying or working away from home.

Sadhya Remains at the Heart of Her Onam

For Riya, it would be difficult to imagine Onam without sadhya.

Her ideal festive picture is straightforward: traditional clothing followed by a long meal with family.

“For me, Onam is having sadhya with a white-and-gold sari on. I always look forward to it.”

And when it comes to the meal, she has a clear favourite.

Riya says she has a sweet tooth, making payasam one of the highlights of the feast.

But she does not stop at having it on its own.

“I mix it with boli, banana and papadam.”

That combination brings together several familiar elements of a Kerala festive meal in a way that is distinctly personal to her.

Food, in Riya’s memories, is not simply something served during Onam. It is part of the emotional experience of the festival.

Family Movie Outings Are Another Onam Tradition

Riya’s Onam traditions extend beyond food.

Watching a film with her family has also become part of her festive routine.

“Watching a film with my family is an Onam ritual of mine. If there’s a good Onam release, we’ll go for it.”

The connection between Onam and cinema is particularly strong in Kerala, where the festive period traditionally coincides with major film releases.

For Riya, heading to a theatre with her family adds another layer to the celebration.

This year, she picked Nivin Pauly’s Bethlehem Kudumba Unit as her ideal Onam viewing choice.

Her description of the perfect celebration could hardly be simpler:

“A perfect meal, a nice nap, and then all of us heading out to watch a movie together.”

That routine combines the three things she repeatedly associates with Onam: food, rest and togetherness.

This Year, Her ‘Family’ Will Be Her Shoot Family

Riya had hoped to return to Kerala for the festival this year. However, professional commitments have changed those plans.

With back-to-back shoots scheduled through August and September, she will remain in Chennai.

Instead of spending the festival with her family at home, she will celebrate it alongside the people she currently spends much of her time with.

“I have back-to-back shoots this August and September. So, I get to celebrate Onam with a completely different kind of family — my shoot family.”

It is a fitting conclusion to her thoughts on the festival.

For Riya, Onam is fundamentally about people. The location may change, the routine may change and even the people around her may change, but the central idea remains the same.

Onam Is About Creating Memories

Riya’s reflections show how the meaning of Onam can change over time without losing its emotional core.

As a child, the festival was about running around with friends, attempting vadamvali, participating in athapookalam and looking forward to payasam.

As she grew older, it became more about making time for family and returning home whenever possible.

Now, with work keeping her in Chennai, she will celebrate with her colleagues and the people she works alongside.

Yet the basic ingredients remain familiar: food, laughter, tradition, family and togetherness.

The arrival of her baby nephew has also given the festival a new dimension. While she may not be able to recreate every childhood tradition this year, she will be creating a new memory with the youngest member of her family.

Riya Shibu’s Ideal Onam, in Her Own Words

If Riya’s comments are brought together, her ideal Onam is surprisingly uncomplicated:

• Wear a traditional white-and-gold outfit.
• Spend time with family and loved ones.
• Enjoy a generous sadhya.
• Finish the meal with payasam.
• Take a comfortable afternoon nap.
• Watch a film together.
• Make time for conversations and memories.
• Celebrate with whoever feels like family, even when work keeps her away from home.

There is no elaborate checklist.

For Riya, the festival’s value lies in the experience rather than the scale of the celebration.

Final Take

Riya Shibu’s Onam memories are a reminder that the festival’s most enduring traditions are often the simplest ones.

From childhood athapookalam competitions and unsuccessful attempts at vadamvali to sadhya, payasam, naps and family movie outings, her memories are rooted in everyday moments rather than grand celebrations.

This year will be different. Work commitments mean she will remain in Chennai, where she plans to celebrate with her shoot family. But the festival will still carry a special meaning because her four-month-old nephew is experiencing his first Onam.

For Riya, that is ultimately what Onam represents: people coming together, sharing food, creating memories and finding a sense of home wherever they are.