The random train riides..!

Random

Travel is like a life journey. Every journey takes a part of your life.  It has its own joys too.  That is train journey in India. First of all the pain of departure.  With that it starts.  It is like death when you depart from a place.

But the joy is when you are about to arrive and actually arrive.  You feel the joy of child birth and seeing a new world.  In between there will be innumerable sights and happenings mostly without much to say about but at times very heartening.

Old days we purchased a ticket, a thick paper ticket with a few details of the Start and arrival stations and the ticket fare and distance and a long curvy line in colouur mostly red on which the counter officer put an initial on the blank side with the simple two letters viz., SR, WR or something like that, in which SR meant Southern Railway, WR meant Western Railway and another common print was SCR meaning South Central Railway.  This ticket in pocket one waited with bated breath to see the train reaching their station of departure and in came the huge steel giant spitting and spewing smoke and steam, the long arms of the large fly wheels pushing up and down with the chuck chuck sound and the blue dressed coal man with a hand ker chief on his head looking out of his engine window.  Sometimes steamy hot water will be coming from one of the tubes or shafts which children were always afraid of.

Once the engine passed the bogeys or compartments came to the platform area where in the travellers looked out and those who were to entrain looked in to see if they found their reserved coach. The there was the hustle and bustle of those alighting and those trying to board either by themselves or with the assistance of either relatives or a coolie who carried and helped them with their luggage.  The train pilot or engine driver got down and went to the local vegetarian or non-vegetarian food stall and so did most of the ticket examiners or other staff who were on long route duties.

By the time the people were all in and out, the coalman pushed coal and the engine driver pulled his string giving a 'boh..boh....whistle'  The sound and tenor of the engine changed and the long arms of the old 'James Watt' engine started pushing once again first slowly and then it picked up speed. Before starting of course there definitely were one or two bells..!  Those were the olden days.

Now the picture changed in the last forty years first to a diesel engine in which the coalmen disappeared and then came the electric engine in which the helpers too disappeared.  Now there are only engine drivers.  The bell too disappeared which used to ring before arrivel and before departure being replaced by mike announcements in three languages, viz.Hindi, English and the local language of State through which it is passing. The driver or examiners rarely got down at stations these days.  The trains arrived and after a short few minutes stop for alighting and entraining for passengers it started off.

We travelled from our Thrissur city to catch Chennai and now it is turn to travel back.  A few weeks after the rain and floods went in a jiffy and it is time again to leave our near and dear to catch up with our dear Thrissur which reminds of a compact life!

The Chennai station is always its ever inviting self with the beautiful platforms and the end of the trains coming till the numbered platforms.  The rush and din and bustle of the place is always there all the twenty four hours.  So many people will be resting, so many will be rushing about and in that station there is no day and night but inside there is only day.  Day in and day out trains came and departed.

Once inside every body guaged their co travellers to see if they are good to travel with.  If they are one, perhaps, struck up a conversation, if not, quietly took ones food, cleaned up and went to bed.  Almost always we travelled in a train to Thrissur by morning like the old London coaches. But times have changed there too, in which now there are trains leaving and reaching at un even and un-earthly times which people take in their stride.

I had travelled up with OV Vijayan in his book called 'Thalamurakal' which kept me company all through my stay in Chennai.  The ups and downs of the 'Tharavaadu' mentioned there is more or less the story of many 'tharavaadus' of Kerala in one form or the other.  OV was kind enough to jot them down for posterity which one is able to read and ruminate.  The Velappan of the story will really give a nudge to any one who had anybody connected with the erstwhile force called 'M.S.P. of Kerala.  The inscription on the belt reading "Yudhivikrama" will touch hearts about the impartial 'Police man' from a virgin police force which perhaps, is not there now.

The various characters appearing in the story and their times are all fit to move any lover of literature and reading in Malayalam language.  When one travels with the Great Grand Parents, Parents, Son and Son's family time flies and the stay time passed in a jiffy.  Towards the end of the stay, the book ends making me take a sigh of back thoughts and angst and I move on to the next book in hand by the famous writer of Kerala 'Madhavikutty' in her book 'Neermaathalam Pootha Kaalam'.






















To continue

Reading books - 'Thalamurakal'

Travelled with OV Vijayan in his Thalamurakal (The generations). Ponmudi Tharavaadu is somewhere in Palaghat as introduced by the author. Went with him to see the story of the 'before the freedom' times of Palghat in Kerala. The tharavadu (the clan headuarters) was slowly coming to its end days as the book which came from the public library.

The letters danced from page to page but the pages themselves were tattered and were coming of from their bindings as the pillars of the great 'tharavadu' called 'Ponmudi'. Reading through the pages, my own old recollections of Palghat came up. The road leading to Palghat from Thrissur was full of cycas scent as it was the flowering time of the cycas plants which abound the large compounds on either side of the road. The rest of the places were paddy fields adorned with rows of huge 'Yakshi' palm trees. A huge bright moon lighted up the road and looked at the red bus we were travelling in!

As the bus sped on the moon seemed to travel with the bus. Some where along with way, among the various village houses and house clusters there was the 'Ponmudi' tharavadu, Vijayan was introducing. Palghat was a rich district full of greenery, forests and a simple loving people. There would have been ups and downs of generations there, no doubt, which is so cleverly introduced in the book.

The bus I was travelling ultimately stopped at the Corporation Bus stand which was only a place called the bus stand. Once the bus stopped my brother with whom I was going took me to our stay at the drivers' stay behind the bus stand. It was a small hutment with a number of small rooms a number of toilets and bath rooms at one side. Our aim of sleeping there for the night to go in the morning to the near by Victoria College for a Railway Test was the eason we were there. Few drivers who ended their trip there were the only occupants, all in transit! We simply slipped into sleep after the tedious journey, of course, a pleasant one in a summer evening, to get up refreshed in the morning to the chirping of birds.

We made it to the exam hall in time and after the exam we took a tour to the nearby forest area where brother said he used to know some of the forest villages. The thrilling journey by foot to the jungle areas soon turned out to he a desparate one as we lost the way in the thick jungles and were fumbling for the correct way in the thick green foliage which did not allow sun light to come in even at three o' clock of the day. Brother said, we seems to have lost our way and shall return back fast as sun light will not last long and when the evening settled down it will be difficult to get out of the jungle. We returned and walked fast with awe as various birds were making their sounds from all around. Luckily no wild animals came our way. A walk of about two hours brought us back to the outside village and we easily took our way back from there. However, we could never, find out the village, my brother was up to and wanted to show me.

Back to Vijayan, his expert ways of story telling enthrals the reader in the ways he relates the story of the thravadu (which seems to be a soliloquie of his generations before and after him). One can get a whif of the old Palghat and also the travels of the boy called Chandran, who later becomes a 'Newspaper man' (Journalist)! He isthe generally relating the story from the point of view of an athiest, at times, with kindness, and at times some what relating the irony of things or the way ups and downs occured in the 'Tharavadu' ..!

The book became a good read in my travels to Chennai after the floods. The flood waters had receded and we could travel without any difficulty as we were heading towards south Chennai which was less affected compared to the main Chennai ..! But tell tale signs of receding water was every where to be seen.

The two books I carried as an after thought was 'Thalamurakal' by Vijayan and 'Neermathalam Pootha Kaalam' by Madhavikutty. Both were saying the stories of their respective generations in one way or the other. First has to fifnish 'Thalamurakal' before starting 'Neermathalam Pootha Kaalam' ..! Both are worth reading and having a glimpse into the past generations of both the authors and through them to the general ways of old Kerala and its people.

I am sure, those of whom, read the books would have enjoyed those best sellers of their times, through and through.

The Palli Perunnal

The boy was jubilant. Today is the palli peruunnal! He has to go to the church with his brother.  The house was done up a few days ago with a general cleaning and white washing duly done.  A huge bunch of little bananas were got and hung on the attic by father.  The day before fish and chicken had come which will be delicacies on the perunnal day for all in the family and guests who may visit the little house!

Perunnal is celebrated in the church which is also done up every year before the perunnal.  The boy was not much concerned about the doing up of the church.  In fact, none of the poor families were much concerned about such things.  The church had enough and more rich people to take care of such serious matters.

The poor were left to fend for themselves in an evolving world which was fast changing. Children were only to enjoy the celebrations, especially the cutie shops and plays and games which will come around the church at every festival.  There will be a lot of shops selling eatables and fruits.  The ubiquitous blue canes and oranges coupled with the arabian dates were a sure hit with children and the parents accompanying them mostly purchased them for the children.  The smell of orange skin filled the air! The toy shops and goodie goodie shops were every were!  The moving balloon walas were found every where!  Those balloons lent colour to children's dreams.  The balloon whistle was a hit with any child of the time.  Without a couple of them in the hands of the children the perunnal is not a perunnal at all !  After blowing air into the balloon from the end of the hollow whistle part when the balloon is filled the filling end is simply released.  The returning or escaping air will make a long 'peeaayeee' sound which was the general sound of the perunnal.

Then there is the death well, in which a motor cyclist will drive up in circles and when he increases speed will come up to the extreme upper crest of the well and challenged the spectators to ride with him!  No body, of course, ever accepted his challenge as all were busy praying for the safety of the rider only and wanted him to end his ordeal which he showed as if it is child's play!  Once he decreased speed and slowly settled down at the bottom of the well with a girl who seemed to be very beautiful with her red red coloured lips and all, all above watching them heaved a sigh of relief.  No body every complained about the money they paid for the ticket, but murmured among themselves " why these poor things have to do all this"  People could never understand why someone had to take such risks to thrill and please others ..!

Then there was the important item of going and paying obeisance at the 'punnialan's' presence and pray to him.  Here the punnialan was an angel. Arch angel, St. Raphael from the book of Tobit. The boy believed the stories and had great belief in the deity.  He prayed to the deity daily and the deity always granted his wishes!  One of his wish and prayer was to have some little prizes to be purchased at the perunnal.  The money for the same was hard to come by. He prayed for the same fervently to the Angel and set out with his brother to the church.

Near the church lived his uncle.  Every perunnal it was custom to visit the uncle at his house cum urvedic medical shop and the boys repeated it this time too.The boy prayed to the angel that the uncle should be there when they visited. If the uncle is not there going there was not much of a point as auntie will be serving them special recepies and tea, that is all.  But not like that with uncle.  And this time when they reached the uncle was at his shop ready for church and smiling at them!

The boys felt happy and elated.  He said to the boys : "Going to perunnal?  Good, go and have the special recepies from auntie and before you proceed come here and tell me, don't you have to put offering at the church?"  The boys said in union "Yes" and the uncle pulled open his table drawer and took two 'tow ana' coins and gave one each to the two boys who were overjoyed and elated!  They their found it difficult to gulp down the recipies kept before them before them by their auntie as they were anxious to run to the church. 

The church was agog and loud with the band group blowing all their equipments and drumming in different tunes as the main mass was over and the whole area was filled with people from all places.  The boys after enjoying the band for a little while proceeded out to spend their two anas to good purpose and enjoyment among the little shops and goodie goodie shops..!

They did not understand the importance of putting an offering at that point of time but fully understood the need of the two anas for buying their little toys and other little amusements!


The festival is organized every October and people of far and near took turns to come and pay obeisance to the Angel who is believed to give them their wishes ! The festival went on for two days people thronging the place day and night and all the sale and shows went about continuously for forty eight hours on the days of twenty third and twenty fourth of the month and then continued with a lesser vigour after that till the 'ettamidom' which is the eighth day after the festival proper when a small scale programme is held for those who have missed the main festival days!

The Blood Test

No problem with the blood. But it has to be tested.  It is the Doctor's requirement as he has to prescribe medicines to increase human life. The simplest form of test won't allow you to eat for 12 hours, then you have to eat and wait for two hours!

The man who sucks your blood will look into your blood and give a computer write up.  The blood has undergone various changes from childhood till now when one is above sixty. The anxiety ridden times of childhood full of awe and wonders of the world presented around, coupled with the extreme desire for food which was scant to come by.

Then the continuous running to school after school where one's hunger for food and knowledge is quenched in part and left vacant in part. The words learned stood in good stead and the king found the youth fit for daily food!  The packets changed from time to time where he would have eaten whatever he got and lately the doctors started intervening.  "You can't eat all that"  they said!

So eating as he wanted was stopped and started eating as the doctor wanted and now his blood is going for test again as had been done several times earlier.

Testing is alright! It is the fasting and not being allowed to take a cup of tea in the morning or breakfast which is the greatest interference! Then the anxiety of the result, just like the result of any examinations!

Once the billing is over I am asked to sit in a chair to suck blood.  The Lady Technician  pushed the needle and sucked enough blood   to check all variations in the blood and left me to take food and come back after two hours. I ate hungrily and had my tea which I had brought from home which was really a big  solace!  Went along site seeing the hospital which had been recently flooded in the Velachery area of Chennai.  The water had come up two and a half feet, I was told, which has now receded!

After two hours one more suction from the blood vein and I am through.

Where is my pen?

He had given me a pen. My father.  He was a visionary!  He sent me to school.  The school was away from home.  Five miles.  I stayed at the school.  That was the style.  As a child, ten years old I wanted to go home and see my father and mother, brothers and sisters.  But that is not the school style.  As the school was providing all facilities and as I did not have all facilities at home, my want to meet my other family members was not severe.  But the yearning was there and it lingered!

Then one day, father came to see me.  He was happy.  In his white shirt and dhoti with his white muslin 'neriathu' (the whilte shawl type cloth used in olden days by elderly people in Kerala)  around his neck he was elegant. Father and son met!  He was a tall well built guy with a kind look.  He stood close to me and touched my hair and asked are you well.  When I said 'yes' he said "I have brought a present for you!"  My eyes were wide with surprise and happiness. Then he brought it out:  An ink pen in brown colour.  It was a great pen.  The clip on the cap had the inscription "President".  He said "This is your weapon. Use it to make a life!"

Many years later, when things had changed a lot, I wanted to write, when writing is almost vanishing!  Now in a normal day, I only punch the keys or the seeds on my lappie, saying this is easier.  The old time ink pen!  Whenever it is referred I looked at it sadly and said "it is a lot cumbersome!" But that was costly as all other throw aways!  Then came a Tamilian Inventor called GD Naidu who was heard saying "Wonderman, GD Naidu, anything for twenty five paise"  In his wide range of products one was the ball point pen.  People naturally loved it!

Then came the talk of computers, then the computers, then the lap tops and now the net books for the old and the android phones for the youth!  And now I want to write!

My inspirations came from the renowned writers, OV Vijayan and Madhavikutty, both carrying me through phases of life!  Both are no more, but have left their legacies for the posterity to scoop up.  Great visionaries, great scholars and great admirers of life!  They looked at life from beyond life and still enjoyed life on this earth, allowing others to look and introspect themselves and lift them to a higher level of life!

That is when I wanted to pick up my pen once again!  I had lost my Dad given pen long back.  The ink pens normally made of plastic would start leaking at the neck  after a time. Many times we used it with a little application of soap or oil at the neck.  But after a time, it won't stop leaking.  Like human life the ink will start flowing out wetting your fingers in its blue tinge which will taint your dress! That is when they are slowly kept away and forgotten like, sadly, like old people!

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