Reading The Roots - 'Verukal'

The book called 'Verukal'...The roots.

The old novel by Malayatoor Ramakrishnan. Malayatoor as he is popularly known, had written this novel towards the end of his literary career. As is well known in Kerala, he was a member of the IAS and a very senior beaurecrat. From among many of his books, this book seems to be the reflection of his life..!

The angst of a middle aged man when he looks back to his life of youth and childhood, any of us would go through such experiences, which are silently recorded in our minds to be buried wiith us in our graves, when our departed near and dear would rejoice with us on it! Such a situation makes it an unusual story of ayone in any circumstance. Here the author belongs to a Brahmin family, but with relatives of all sorts, rich, poor educated and some in very precarious circumstances.

He paints his Paatavu, Paattti (Grand father and Grand mother) and his own Dad in so colourful paint that they starts living in our hearts and we also feel the pain and love they impart. Through them, we also start seeing in our minds our own Grand mothers and Grand fathers who gave us too much love in their own way and our dads and moms who did everything for us sacrificing themselves!

Nine in Hundredand Fifteen

Nine is Chapter 9, Hundred and Fifteen is Page number 115. Just reached Chapter 9. Only reached, not read as yet. As it takes time to read in this busy world of too many other urgencies like TV, mobile, inter net and all. But the reading shall continue, nonetheless! By the time I reached one hundred and fifteen, the main character of the novel had been through college almost. But not fully. With the candidness of an open youth, he relates his escapades while away to town and college of smoking and slowly trying to quench his curiosity of drinking, first with the local desi 'arrack' and then with the other English liaquor forms like Gin and Whisky. He gets a friend in college called Rajappan who decides run away from the college uninformed and he joins with him in his running away without much thought as all youths do to face the reality later the hard way. As there was no chance of his having heard the story of the 'prodigal son' he slowly sees the reality in the far off city of Madurai (It was a far off city in those days when travel facilities were not this far as we have now) where his friend gets selected to the Army and he is left high and dry as he himself could not get selected. The hardships clears his head and he comes to reality and wise as he is, he takes the decision taken by the prodigal son by returning to his father and home where every body was living only half way due to his unannounced absence from college. That was a time when phone and other facilities were not as prevalent andhis return fills them with new hope.

As we read, if we are in the elderly group, we will be filled with emotions of our youth times and later lifes and we can see our parents whom we may also have pained in some way or the other and the great silent way in which they would have suffered it and still smiled at us and would have discussed among themselves as to what would have happened to us and if we have to be treated for the mild little derangement of youthhood as some one jelous may have tried to poison their loved son through some desi foods etc. In the further treatment in which everyone in the family and near relatives take part it is definitely established (?) that 'yes, it is certainly some body poisoning their loved one which was reason for his loss mind and consequent running away. The boy is treated with ayurvedic medicines and treatment methods in which it is shown that some spirit is in possession of the boy and that spirit is sent away by a priest (temple pujari) which appeases all in the family especially the parents.

The School Photograph..!

The School photo graph

The photographer came at five o' clock. He was slated to come from the city town. We were small children studying in class six in those days. We were told that he would come in the late afternoon and we should be ready for photo-graph after the school.

So all of us waited with baited breath to hear the final bell. Once it sounded all went out running to take their baths and get ready for the photograph. This was the first time a photograph was being taken. There was no taking of photographs in those days. Children were seen directly only. Now the photographer is coming. !

All of us and the two elderly brothers all came ready after their baths and getting dressed in our best clothes. The bath was quickly accomplished at the well side. We were trained for that. One of us will draw the water from the deep well and pour on another one who will be standing in a small Kerala bath towel at the waist. One or two more little buckets of water will finish the bath of one. The the one bathed will repeat the process for the other. All went for their dressing which included a small shorts and a slack shirt and bit of the Cuticura  carefully preserved in our little boxes. Once ready all assembled in front of the residential school and arranged a cou;le of benches. That was the seating arrangement.

The Master ji gave orders for the fine tuned arrangements. Small children sat in front row, the teachers and medium boys on the benches and the tall students stood behind. The three rows made it it all. A football which we used to play was filled up and brought. The year '1964' was chalked on it and it was kept in front with a small trophy cup which the school had won in a local boys match on top of it.

In between the photographer came. A white shirted middle aged man was the photographer. He came in a rikshaw being pulled by another man who respectfully put down his side of the rikshaw on the ground and helped the traveller in his rikshaw to get down. Once he came down, the rikshaw puller took out a huge box and gave it to him. This was the photography camera. He brought it in front of us children who were arranging ourselves. He surveyed us and moved to a distance and opened the box to pull out a black box and a wooden contraption. He manouvered the wooden stuff and made it into a huge tripod and settled it in front of us children. He came close to Master ji and murmered to him to get us seated according to height and moved back to his box and stand.

Once at the stand he picked up the black box and settled it on top of the tripod and covered it with a black cloth, similar to a blanket. The camera box had a glass eye facing us. Once the blanket was in position he went under it from behind the tripod stand and started to moved the stand back and forth and settled in a place in a wy he thought was best for the capture of a picture. Then he started to do something with the box. Master ji told us that he is adjusting the length of the box. Once that was over he came in front and looked at all of us who were sitting like statues with eyes bulging out to see what he will do next! He told us to sit in relaxed positions and went near the camera cloth and removed the cloth from the front and removed a cap from the aperture eye. Now we could see the glass eye of the camera. The photographer went behind the camera once again under the blanket and started adjusting the box a little more. Then he settled that and once again covered the camera glass with a black cap.

The he went down to his box again and brought out a slate sort of frame and took it inside the blanket. Once inside, the Master ji explained to us that he was fixing the film. The man came out with the frame in his hand which he kept back into his box. Now he became very serious! He came near us looking at each one of us.

He pulled down some ones face a little, pushed up some others faces, told some of us to be more relaxed. He even went to the Master ji and physically turned his face a little. To some he told to turn their faces a little to the left or right etc. Then at a point he said ready and moved back to his camera. Once near the camera he surveyed all of us from left to right and said: “Now I will say 'Smile Please' – and then all of you should smile, ok?”

This was going to be the moment. All of us kept ready to do our Smiles and he slowly, ever so slowly, facing us put his hand on the eye cap of the camera eye and looking at us said 'Smile Please' and we all smiled. This was the first time somebody was telling us to smile and all of us pulled our lips to both sides and stood with the blandest of smiles and kept on standing like that. In the mean time the photographer removed the camera eye cap in a jiffy and covered it again. Then he turned to us in a relaxed form and told us “Sabaash” ! The Master ji got up and told us that the photograph is over. That was the first photograph which was ever taken in our life.

We were told that a proof will be available after a week and then the real photo will be available in a month when each one will get our copy on payment of its value of one Rupee each.

When it came it was a great photograph with the Master ji sitting in great style in the middle sitting row and all others in their respective place. I was in the front sitting with my lips pulled maximum to both sides presenting a large smile as much large as I could! It hang on our little house wall for many years with the football in front with '1964' written in chalk on it until we lost it to the photo-framer who had been entrusted with it for a new frame.