The story of Langclaath and Vaamclaas

The Langclaath and Vaamclaas

The above are two items of cloth. One is Langclaaath and the other Vaamclas. Such words come up once in a while and how quickly we get it deciphered will ease our concern, inquisity and anxiety for the word and its meaning so that we can go further with the conversation or the further action out of the conversation.

The first word happened to me when I was an eligible employment seeker and was in seartch for a job at the age of twenty. An old friend of mine at that time, far back, wanted to help me out of kindness and told me that I can come to the office where he was working and meet his boss for a job in cloth sales. I met his boss who interviewed me quizically and after concluding various items of conversation told me to go and meet an old man in another big cloth shop which belonged to his family. I met the old man who was in his seventies and he asked me straight away in a great Malayalam accent: What do you know about claath and what do you know about laangclaath?

My quick answser surprised him in that I said: “I was asked to come and meet me and these is no need of a lot of questions. I have already been questioned by the gentleman who interviewed me”. The old man whom I did not know at that point of time looked at me for a while and disposed me by saying: OK..OK..You may go back to the office from where you came: and kept on looking back at me as I was leaving.

In the office back, my earlier interviewer was amused at the whole incident and told me in humour: “You know who was the gentleman whom you met. He is my father and the owner of all these!” I was taken aback but did not show my surprise. The interviewer boss appointed me, however ! I knew the word was 'long cloth', one of the two kinds of cloth being sold by the company, viz. 'long cloth' and 'mull' called here in the southern part of India as 'malmal'. Malmal is a sought after cloth in pure white cotton, which is bought by one and all for various kinds of uses in dressin the southern part of India, in the olden days and to an extent even now.

The second word happened few months after wards when I was getting ready to leave Kerala for Delhi on a Government job and was making enquiries to those who had travelled to that part. In those days of the early eighties not many people had travelled to the far of Delhi from Kerala.  Mostly peoploe read in newspapers the news coming from New Delhi. My father and elders suggested an old Newspaper Editor who was in his eighties and I went to meet him along with my father. He was a well built, very tall and majestic gentleman infront of whom I appeared puny, at twenty two-twenty three years of age. He heard us patiently, looked at my appointment order for a while. Then he looked up at the skies as if he was seeing something there and slowly started telling us in a very friendly way: “Oh..Delhi...Delhi is OK. You need vaamclaas and the usual other items. It will be cold there. The rest doesn't matter” . We heard him and thanked him profusely for his great advice and walked home.

'Vaamclaas' troubled me for a long time and I assumed that it could be either a particular item or it could be 'warm clothes'. My father asked me if I could get what he said for which I just shook my head which my father took that I had understood. I thought, I shall use it the next day in to-to. Next day, at the big cloth shop, I asked the sales-executive : “Do you have vaamclaas?” The smiling executive did not think twice. He directed me to go upstairs where I found all sorts of warm clothes which were available in that shop ! Yes, vaamclaas is 'warm clothes' for sure! Thereafter whenever I hear vanclo or vaamclaas, it used to bring a smile on my face! 

Father's Blessing...., the Mother's Blessing.....!

Father's Blessing, the Mother's Blessing....!

The train to Delhi rumbled out slowly from the Thrissur station. The Jayanthi Janatha was a 'all second class' train in those days. My brother and sister had come to the station in the taxi car from the village which came to drop me. The Thrissur station was called 'Trichur' in those days. There were no pre paid booth or too much rush for buying tickets. The present separate reservation centre was not there!

My brother helped me to bring up my small suitcase and bed bundle along with the umbrella which father had given. The train arrival was announced by a tripple bell and then the train, a diesel engine arrived. The entry was unceremonious and once I settled down in the seat near the window our countries changed: Now my brother and sister will be in Thrissur and then back home where as I will lose their connection and the train will move forward. Slowly it happened. We were separated into different worlds. The diesel smoke came through the open windows. It was cleared by the fresh air which blew in from the Wadakkanchery and Ottappalam paddy fields and coconut palms.

There were no pockdet phones or cell phones as we know now, the only connections were the letters which I can send by post. I had kept blank inland letter forms and post cards, enough to keep me for a fortnight. The first letter will be after I reach and it will reach only after four days at the minimum and a weeks time at the most. In unusual cases, it may be a very long time wihout any sharpness of time. Slowly the time became dark and the lights in the compartment came up. It was a clean compartment with oak wood seats and berths without any bed. The kosady bed (a light cotten wool bed) was useful in these circumstances and I took full advantage of it in my early journeys along with the pillow which mother had specially sewed up for me.

The train had a pantry car with all the members from Wadakkanchery as bearers or servers. They endered all the travellers soon with their contnuous servings of tea and snacks. Took orders for meals for those who needed it. At times sat with travellers who were first timers and gave sincere advices and related their own experiences etc. Etc.

I surveyed my co travellers, a family of four, a young girl and a stocky youth sleeping in the upper berth. Time became dark and dinner was served. That is the time for the evening meal. I opened my little pack of home made meal neatly packed in a piece of plantain leaf covered again with news paper and nicely tied up. Once it is opened, I could see my mother and all my sisters and brothers in it. It was all their effort and this will be my last meal from home until my next visit. That brought tears in my eyes, but I tried to control it. The nice fish curry had its aroma which was mouth watering, and it had a piece of fried omlette and a big piece of fried fish which I was really fond of. It was an unduly huge piece, just put there as a parting gift. Slowly, I worked into the food and soon got it all over and prepared for sleep. A few minutes we chit chatted among the co-travellers and then it was the nicest of sleep in the low rocking mostion of the train and the light wind blowing with no rains.

Once in Delhi, after two days of rolling up in the Jayanthi Janatha I was in my work station where the whole life style was different in a single room residency. I wrote home of the hilarious journey in the train to appease my mother (Otherwise she will panic for me and will think 'my child is put to too much hardship'. To amuse her I wrote: “Mother, why did you put such a huge piece of fry fish in the pack. You should have give it to Father.” After two weeks, I got back a letter from home in which my mother wrote back with the help of my sister : “I had kept it for Father, but Father only said: “I am here, and the little boy is going: Give it to him in his supper pack” “We don't know when we will have another meal with him” ...I was really wonder struck at his simple kindness and forethoughts about me which he never showed outside!

The June Rains

The June Rains

Raining cats and dogs is only an idiom. But in Kerala it really takes shape in June. This month starts always with a severe rain. The rain continues all through the day and gives relief to the parched earth which had been fied though a severe April May heat.

The paddy fields get filled up and the rainy season is selected for ploughing and putting new saplings or sowing seeds. The natural coolness of the climate is good for great sleep. June and July are the rainiest people getting maximum sleep during the period. But all this are enjoyed with other members in the family.

When time passes, in Kerala, the number of members become less in the family and the left over members pull on the days in the fond memory of the times they spend together with their loved ones, the struggles they had to pull on and fix their children, the anxiety they faced together in seeing their wards employed etc. Then the great rupture of love and affection when their little children grew into big people, brought in their earnings to sit around and enjoy a sumptuous meal or go on a small tour etc.

Then the time machine turns again and the big little children get married and bring in new people who do not know the times and struggles they faced together. Then naturally due to the pressure of the work and place the new little families travel away and live in far off places, making an occassional call on the phone or appear rarely for a celebratory occasion at hom. Now they have to adjust to each other and make a new beginning. That is the time the rains and shines become more endearing to them. The time they come home, the parents keep counting the calendar and the children come hap-hazardly with their express plans to get back to do their work chores where ever they come from.

When one come fare a busy city life, they remember some of the old times, but most of the times they have forgotten. But memories become prescious to the old people and they cring to it. It is not that memories have any value except for them, but those who have the memories, those memories keep them going..! Strange as it seems, it is the story of most of the elderly and many a time they do not think of it or relate to it unless they get an opportunity.

In the old times when it rained children used to be enthused to play in the rains by making dams and water tunnels. When they enjoy it through and through, it was the parents who became happy and thought it was a reason for life. The little ones' happiness always burst into loud laughter as they shouted their achievements to their parents and grand parents. That is another group of people, the Grand Parents. Olden days most families had the added happiness of having Grand Parents with whom the little children made instant company to the joy and relief of the young parents. Now, that has become a luxury. Either they have lived out or died out or in rare cases, they are kept out.

How so ever, they kept their grand memories prescious until the very last. The rain time is also a time for instant diseases when parents run helter skelter to get their little ones treated back to good health. Old people who are too delicate and bed ridden pass on to the other world during this time of the year. This time it was selected, it seemed to me, because in an agricultural world, most of the people would be at home due to the rains when a peaceful death is possible after seeing most of the family members around. Many had their premonitions, and called the family members to give their advices and blessings before they closed their eyes for the last time to be reborn into their next world. It is a type of account closing, one may say.

Regardless of whatever happens, the rain continues to complete its course. The plants and trees are jubilant during the period and grow with great vigour. And this make the farmers happy. The birds and animals generally find the think rains and wind somewhat comburesome. The birds can't fly enough to catch their prey and the cattle find it difficult to graze in severe rains. They wait till the rains ease., which ultimately it does.

At times, the rains are coupled with great lightning and thunder when the electricity fails and everybody can take rest. Nothing work at such times. The wall plugs of the instruments have to be pulled out for fear of the instruments burning out in the extreme charge of electricity in the lightning. This happens rarely, but at times, it does happen in some place or the other. In any case, the nature is generally kind in this and most of the time our prayers to God to protect us from all kinds of calamities are heard and answered. Life goes on after the rains in the next bright mornings with a new vigour and enthusiasm.