Saturday, 27 September 2014

Meeting a beggar at New Delhi Metro


Bharkhamba Road Metro is a busy station of Delhi.  One can take the metro from the Connaught place from this station to various station.  With some house hold work I landed up in the place and was to enter a building in the very hot sun when I walked a little to the nearby street to see what all are going on there!
There was a lot of knick knack sellers who sold all things about office stationery to all kinds of Delhi foods, mean fast foods which generally office goers looked for for a bite as entering a cafe or food court is not easy or reasonable to Delhi standards for the standard workers and office goers! 

That is when I noticed a beggar-man.  He was walking in my direction. The first  thought in my cruel mind was that he could be a crafty guy. But then he was so skinny, that he surprised any body who saw him that he still has energy left to stand up and walk.  The whole body was soiled and in tattered clothes and he had not seen water for long.  There was a girl giving him pieces of bread which he was leisurely munching.  Now that the girl has left him he is coming to beg himself! There was a soft voice in my mind telling me: Give him something. He is so poor in any case. My hand reached to my pocket and it came out with a two rupee coin. Now the man reached near me. I am ready with the two rupee and my mind is undergoing the great fight, give him something, no don’t give him. These kinds are like that only. They do not deserve better. I felt, I am in his position and he is in my position.


For a second, I thought myself to be in his position: I was eating the scrub of bread somebody had given my daughter. She said, Papa this is good. That gentleman over there gave me his left overs. Really good papa, do eat a little. You have not eaten anything since morning. So I started to eat it. I was walking in the direction of a group of people. On the way there is the silhouette of a man with a bag. While I was passing the silhouette with the bag I felt his handing nearing me. Instantaneously I showed my hand. There may be something he may be wanting to give me. The silhouette told me “here” and I extended the hand in that direction and lo! There is a two rupee coin. God has been kind today as ever. A two rupee coin. A meal costs only twenty rupees at concession. That too we have to buy only if the hotel does not have any left overs. I was happy. A few more two rupees and I can buy a fresh meal today. My two daughters will enjoy. And if they can’t finish it my wife can join. I do not need fresh food. I can eat all kinds of left overs unless they are stale. I digest anything. I am a worm. A worm eats anything. Our human position is not very important in this town. There is no Mother Theresa around here. Here all are human, very busy in their day to day affairs. There is not even place to stand in one place here in this city these days. This is not the old city of yesteryears! I moved on.


Once back in my position -It was automatic. I could not prevent myself from extending my hand and trying to put the coin in his hands. His hand was extended but not in my direction. I made a sound to attract his attention and his hand came in my direction. I put the coin in his hand!! I could not believe myself. The man was totally blind but for seeing a shadow. What further can be done? What ..what further. I have my urgent works on hand. I only thought of seeing this place around to acclimatise myself, if ever I had to visit this place again. I slowly walked away with a last look. The skeleton man’s wife, a stocky black lady had assembled her two darkish looking girls aged 8 and 12 around her and were seriously discussing about their business of begging. The skeleton man was still munching the bread parts of which falling from his mouth, and some showing up around his lips as he was unaware of the sight.


I reached near him and showed the coin. His long slender hand came forward and accepted it. There was a look of helplessness and a feeble smile on his face.
I qucily walked in the direction of the Metro train. I can’t wait! I have urgent work to do like all others!!
In the Metro coach, my mind was still around the forty forty five year old darkish skeleton of the man munching his bread and his wife and his little daughters happy and discussing ways and means under the hot sun with the temperatures soaring at forty five degrees!! How they will find a way of life and survive was a question which troubled me for long.










Wednesday, 24 September 2014

Nostalgia!

Return journey from Delhi was always nostalgic!  One year would have gone by, when I return home!    Jayanthi Janata starts from the Hazrat Nizamuddin station at seven in the morning.   Coming to the station gives a heady feeling, a feeling of expectation, a feeling of unexplainable joy!  The early auto rikshaw ride is always cool.  Once in the station, walk with a friend or room mate to the Station canteen for tea and snacks. Then go and sit in the train already in the platform.   All the train was full of second class only (which changed later).

The train pantry had a wonderful set of people as staff who ascertained our seats as soon as we entered.  Thereafter a rappo starts with their bringing us time to time meals and tea all the time.  We enjoyed a lot of tea, the very nice tea served by an all Malayali group of pantry car bearers who were always affable (This changed lately.  All kinds of odd guys started coming and the affability was gone).  Once the train started moving we looked on to see the sights around, the train passing Tuglakabad, Faridabad to Palwal and picking up speed.  The sun started to rise up and it started to get warmer and warmer.

 We looked on to see the Sikandra Fort by the side of which the train passed.  The train ran and ran with all kinds of little traders entering and departing the train from time to time.   We had fruit juice at Vijayawada or Warrangal.  Bought oranges at Nagpur. Purchased ground nuts and gauvas in Andhra.  By Tamil Nadu we are tired of waiting to reach Kerala and this is the second night we are spending in the train.  Many people played playing cards.  I disliked the card games.  Many beggers came and begged at different stations regularly. Some of them blessed you, some came with blesses and when they did not get anything cursed and left.  A few children's gangs led by their leaders or parents came to show small acrobatics after drumming for a few seconds and started asking for alms! If they got less, their leader or parent punished them severely, taking them to the entrance area of the coach where they rested until they got out at the next station.

Some beggers somewhat better dressed brought small printed cards and left them in the train seats for the travellers to read and make their own assumptions and help them.  They invariably collected the cards back before they asked for help.  Then there were sellers of different kinds of wares from playing cards, tooth picks, ear cleaners, chains to secure your boxes in the train, locks, soaps, tooth brushes and tooth paste and assorted other items.  They all came and went from time to time after selling their wares as much as they could.  These were always the norms in the Jayanthi Janata at that time.  


The feeling of the lost world will fill the mind when we think of home.  The smell of Kerala will start from Coimbatore.   The train will pass under a number of criss-crossing over bridges and enter the Coimbatore station.  There will not be many people awake at that time as it will be generally early morning hours!  Some die hards, interested in travel will be up and looking through the windows searching for little lights far away or checking for houses or people if any being seen.

After the Station  the train will be running through darkness with the eastern sky turning slowly crimson which filled my heart with a kind of joy that I am reaching home again.Father and Mother waiting for me, brothers and sisters discussing my return etc. etc.   I will always be up and anxious to see the Walayar Station which is a boundary station.  There after the mountainous terrain on either side of the train will be panoramic, dipped in the morning due and foggy blue far away!  The Palghat Station always filled our hearts with joy!  It is morning by now.  The Bharatapuzha on the way will give way and we reach Shoranur where a piece of the train is detached and joined to some other train going to Mangalore! 

At Palghat the smell of fresh Pazhampori (fried bananas) used to come.  In those days, the train used to reach Palghat around seven or eight in the morning.  It was nice to have a first bite of the fried banana and follow it with the best of teas which were available in those days!!  The present method of cheating by giving a paper cut with over sweet milk liquid and a throw tea bag in it with below measure quantity was not there then!  Tea was always served in glass tumblers which were washed and reused.  That hygiene is now gone! That has become nostalgia now.

Then we passed on to Wadakkanchery and Mulloorkkara with the peacock dance of the trees and plants greenery on either side of the train and one awaited the board of Poomkunna where the train stopped for two minutes.  The station which did not have a plat form in those days!  There after it majestically crawled into the Trichur Station where we heard the Malayalam of the Trichurians in its traditional sing song slow slithery sweet manner where everything was still, peaceful, no urgency for anything style!

Once on the platform or even before it, every one wanting to disembark start looking intently at the platform to see if any of the relatives or brothers or sisters or even parents have come to receive him and find one or more of them and are overjoyed.   But the general difficulties of travel mostly limit the receivers to one at a time and the arriver really get elated by the sight of the relative or friend.   But as time passes by at times, there will be no body even though how hard one looked, and slowly a kind of unhappiness and pessimism creep in.   Once on the platform, I take a deep breath, the same old air, which I was missing so far for the last one year, the old air of trichur full of oxygen, the smell of paddy fields and cut grass.  The smell of the mango leaves and cashew nut trees!  The breeze that comes touching several coconut trees!  Then some one came close to as in your ears "Saare vandi vende, evidekka?" (Sir, you need a vehicle? Where to?)   He will be asking as if he is your brother or near relative.  It is common in Trichur when they need a fare.   I looked at him.  He really looked like my brother.   Very thin built, a khaki shirt on.  I can make out that he may be a taxi or auto rikshaw driver.  


I asked him "How much to Ollur?"  He won't answer straight "All that we can settle later, Sir"  That gives me the danger bell.  Now I have to be careful with him.  He is going to take my brotherhood for a ride, indeed!

"OK.  If you tell me how much it is, we can walk further" saying this I put down my suit case and stop walking.

He comes back "Oh..Sir.  I never charge more.  Only sixty rupees."

"All right..Go on and find another ride for your car" I replied.

"Oh..Sir, we get something when people like you who are generous come down only"  This is a black mailing number which many a time works well.  But not with me.  I am dead se t not to throw away my meagre earnings to this brotherly guy for no reason.


I bargain now:  "Just understand, if you are on a level stand, you get a ride from me.  Twnety five ruppes or you leave and I can very well go by bus"

That bring him down.  "Sir, make it forty and we go"

"Think of it well.  Final, Thirty rupees for you. Otherwise the bus is waiting.Do not spend my time, if you are not serious"



Ultimately, he agrees for rupees thirty. Then I come out with him and he put my suit case in the boot and I climb into the back seat.   I sit elaborately in the back seat.  I am thrown into nostalgia.   Earlier times my brother or sisters used to come.  Now time has passed.   All have become tied up with their individual families with various household matters.The pleasant air was stroking me deepening my brotherly feeling to the only human being in the driver's seat.  He is a neat guy.  He is slowly turning and twisting the wheel and manoveuring with great ease.  He is a expert of course.  I start a conversation with him as always.  The best way to acclimatise me with the lost ground of the village is to start a conversation with the driver.   If he is a good talker, he will give a general picture of the place and by the time we part we would have become friends.

The important incidents in town, the building of the largest mall or greatest building, the terrific accident or rain havoc all will be referred to.  In between, there may be questions about me and my family too.  In old Kerala it is like that.  The Taxi Driver is also somebody belonging to some respectable family and they would want to know about the rider too.   Once it is given, if he is good and belonging to my own village will find out a couple of  my close relatives who is known to him and relate their relationship itself.  Earlier times, they used to know my father and will tell about him which used to make me happy.

But now a lot of time has passed after the death of my father, the village has progressed, new people have settled down in various pockets, the old people have either moved out or gone outside the State like me.  At times the guy may not know my people or near and dear.  Then the topic will shift to the conditions of the roads and the Government.Mostly the driver will become eloquent when it comes to roads in Kerala.  No one will say roads are good in Kerala.  The incessant rains always did its work and the roads get broken up.  The drivers suffer.  When it comes to Government, each driver will have his view point and suggestions how the Government should be run.   So also their grievance agains the Police who trouble them at times.   If the Driver become too critical on any subject, I change the subject and steer to some good and hilarious conversation and slowly we turn the last road corner to my by-lane, pushing up my nostalgia.  The bamboo clusters on the road turnings are gone!

New houses have come on the block.   New people around.  Some of the thorn hedges of compounds have been replaced with stone walls.  People are slowly changing and wanting to bring up stone walls among them.  Now the car reached in front of my half finised house, which we always called the "pani theeratha veedu"  The Driver has become a friend by now.

He comes back to the boot and take out the suit case.  He addresses me: "Appo sheri saare.  njan  potte"  (So, right Sir, Let me go) This meant, it is time that I paid him.  I pay him the designated thrity rupees.  He takes it and looks at the money, count it and look down and say again "Appo....Sheri Saare,  Varatte.."
This is a prompt to allow me to give him anything further, if I want.  His face is without a smile.   I pull out a ten rupee note and give him.  Once it was in his hand, his face let up as if the full moon has come up on the blue skies.I know this.   Every time I come, this is repeated. This is another nostalgia.

Mother will be standing at the door looking at me intently!  She always kept on looking out from the door if I am coming.   Once I settle down, it is as if, I have come back forever!  I normally do not open my suit case or any thing when I come.  Just put it in the corner of the room.  I go and settle down on the corner of the bench near the huge table where father used to sit.   Now, mother sits there when I am not there.  When I come, I sit there and she stands on the other side of the table.  Even if I tell her to sit she will not.   She will just stand there opposite me saying "let me see you"   For a long time she will stand there and then she will find out that I am tired.  Then she will just go inside the kitchen and come back with the black tea and put it in front of me!  I start taking the tea, as if I have just come to have tea!  It is an endearing action repeated every time I come home.

Then the fish fellow will call "Poooyi"  Mother will ask "you have some money, I shall buy some fish".  When I come, there after, I make it a point that I pay for these small things, which alleviate a little of my brother's burden, who looks after the house, otherwise.  Mother is happy!  Then she will start slowly narrating the incidents around the house, the village, the church, the convent,  and the town city of Ollur. Those stories will take me through the 20 days of my leave time.   I get the feel of going through an intense film movie and then I pack up  for the return which is always painful!!



The day before my departure used to be a kind of festival.  Mother will arrange all kinds of foods she can and fry the recipes which I like.  Mainly are the achappams and kozhalappams (Two kinds of rice receipes, which I still know only to eat and enjoy..making them are difficult and takes a lot of patience and perseverance, which mother had) which she packed in biscuit tins which I brought from the market.  These are for me to carry with me to Delhi.  The day of parting, she will stand opposite me serving my food and asking that painful question.  "Now, when are you coming next?"  that is a really painful question, as I was a part in the house always evident in each and every single particle there.  I will pretend to be happy and answer "Coming here is not as difficult and all as in the olden times, you just say and I am here"  My mind cried out loud at a super decibel which nobody could hear!  But all that pretention did not fool mother.   She slowly said " I will watch the calendar, to see when you are coming next."  That was a real fact.  And that is the same with most of the parents left back in Kerala, if their loved ones are away.

By the time I finish lunch, she would be packing a special pack of food for me in the plantain leaf from our back yard and that is the last meal from home in that trip while returning.   This I usually took after settling down in the return train and when the dinner time arrived around eight o' clock.  My eyes used to well up while I ate that meal alone as otherwise I would be taking it with all at home. I ate slowly and deliberately, remembering each word that transpired  among us in the house. 

Luckily such soliloquies did not last long as there would be a lot of other passengers and a few will be just near by who would be in conversation and I also used to join in and suppress my anguish and family thoughts for the time being.   Slowly a family camaraderie pick up among the co-travellers and me.







































Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Stories on the way to School..! The ho..ho ammama and the Pranthathi Mariam..!

On the way to school, every day there were incidents which usually went out of our minds by the next day. The main road had too many huge mango trees which have disappeared now. The road was not tarred, but gravelled, or not(?). We sused to see at times heaps of rock stones off loaded for metalling the road.  But that happened at a much later stage.   Earlier times, when we used to walk to school, the road was gravelled only and whenever a vehicle, which were of course rare, it brought up a lot of dust if it was a fast vehicle.   Mostly there were bullock carts only and they did not bring up any dust.

In such a road, one day we had a sight!  The children with us were getting excited and they whispered among themselves!  "The old ho-ho antie is coming! Run!" Every body ran to the sides of the road and hid themselves behind the huge mango trees.  One or two simple people were on the road and the ho-ho auntie shouted at them saying 'ho'...'ho'....again and again and showed the long bamboo stick at them.  The people slightly astounded and looking at the frail lady in her late eighties,  slowly moved away without saying anything, but kept on closely observing her having empathy and sympathy to her situation. 

The frame of an old woman came up fully clad in white with a long bamboo stick in hand.   She was touching the road, with the stick in front and also shouting "ho.."  "ho.."   I looked closely without her seeing me.   She should have been a very majestic lady once.  The whole sight was pathetic.  She was too old to have ventured out on the road and none of us knew where she came from and where she was going.

My friends told me that she belonged to a very rich family who were jamindars who have now become paupers and the old lady is set out to some work as all the workers of the family, have left them.  The family has lost heavily due to the improper governance of the house in the "Karanavar" (Head of the family) way of handling things.  Now that the family head has passed away the old lady is alone.   A pity.  The old lady, in olden days, used to go with a servant man walking ahead of her shouting 'ho..ho.." to warn people not to come too close to her as she is an important woman belonging to an important family with the authority to govern the near around places!  That is all gone now, and the old lady is really helpless!!     We looked on the passing frame but she did not have any defence when fast moving vehicles or bullock carts came.   Slowly times changed and she  or anybody like her, was not seen any more in the streets or major roads!  The bullock carts disappeared and gave way to mini trucks.  The mango trees were not on the road sides any more when I came back after forty years.  The children walking to schools had disappeared.   Now the children went in mini vans.  They were all dressed in neat nickers and slacks well inserted with belt and boot, with identity card cords round their necks, with the school emblem on their shirt pockets.  The gravel roads changed to tarred roads.  Times did change, indeed!

Pranthathi Mariam

This was another poor lady not very old but in tethers and mostly seen wandering in the major city market and near about.  As children, we never thought we have to do anything nor did any body else thinking in those lines.   Most of the people in the city knew her as she was seen always in the market and none of us missed her.   Her looks were blank and her hair was always seen to be cropped close.  We did not know who cropped it for her as she was not in any sane mind to do it herself or request others for the same!

But this was no body's affair.  All were people of great standing moving around and those who were not of great standing were poor and not able to help.   Even if they wanted to help, they did not know what to do.   There were no organizations looking after them.   People simply thought that it is their 'fate', a too very misused and mistaken word, indeed!  Since everybody was busy practicing piety, no body thought that  this poor middle aged insane woman deserved any help or support.


Life was slow and things were routine.  Children went to school, if they could, provided, the family was good enough to send them to school.   There were many children who missed school totally to learn different types of works and start working early to support parents.  But, by and large, all of them went to school, thanks always to the Malayalee nuns and priests who were bent on spreading education through out Kerala.

The elders went to work, mostly hard work.  Business was less and the more shrewd went into business, provided their parents had money enough to go for it.  The common man or generality did not have ambitions as they all understood that it was not proper for average people to have ambitions as they may not have to feel sad about it later.  Those who were rich or more than well to do, always thought they were specially blessed to be good and the others were cursed and that is why they had to do hard work. 

The village centre had a common man's place called 'Sathram'.   Even though it was called 'Sathram', the people who lived there were unusually poor and those who did not have any thing at all in life except the tattered clothes they wore.  This being a publicly donated place by some important individual of the olden times, there was no body looking after the place now.  There was a huge 'madras eentha' tree in front of it, a stone plaque showing the name of the place and the name of the donor and an 'athani'  for those who carried head loads on long distances.  The 'Athanis' were prevalent in olden days when carrying head loads as a means of transportation were common.   When the person carrying the weight when they feel too tired, looked for an 'athani' and
when they found one just pushed the load on to the athani without the help of any body else.   If they had to put it down, they needed the help of another strong person.   Here with the help of an 'athaani' they can off load and take it back on their head by themselves.  The lady in question in her tattered clothes went into this 'Sathram' at times to spend the nights.  This place being a public place were also a place of stay for bad people and such people came and left at will as all were allowed free stay there and as far as we children saw, there were nobody controlling anything or any body there.

The elderly Mariam kept walking by the side of this shop or that all through the day!!  Everybody referred to her as if she is a pillar or part of a boundary wall or so.   I could never connect with the puja and sermons I attended to her, nor could anybody else.  We were small children in any case.   None of the big people who were around also felt any thing amiss.   But those good people of the city village centre  did not have any thing against her either.  They just allowed her there as she did not actually belong to the place.

It was rumoured (in the village, everthing had a rumour behind it which only the inhabitant of the village knew)  that she was a daughter in law, married  of to a rich family.  The mother in law of the family is said to have struck her on the head with an 'ulakka' (the wooden pole usually used to beat rice paddy to dehusk them).  The poor Mariam lost her mind and got injured and was thrown out of the house.   Time healed her or was she helped by someone with any treatment were not known.  She appeared in our village and either we all saw her near this wall, or that shop corner without speaking to any one, at times speaking to herself or looking blankly at the skies far off, or at times sleeping in front of a closed shop.

Once or twice she got pregnant and in those days nothing was reported as of today and there were no TV broadcasting as there was no TV at all.  One time, she delivered a baby, we don't know how, but as she was insane, she carried the child around for a long while.  In between, the child died and she still kept on carrying the child, without knowing the little soul is no more!  Afterwards she was found moving without the child.  We do not know what happened.   Some do gooders of the time would have got the poor child buried.  The poor Mariam the insane, kept on moving on the streets without any special remorse but could have been sad at times, as she kept on talking to herself at times!

Surprisingly all the good people and the philathropists passed that way and would have seen that sight of the tattered Mariam.  All the ulsavams and perunnals took place on time so also the festivals of all other concievable religions around there.  Onams came and went.  Church festivals were celebrated with pomp and show.   But....the poor Mariam....was forgotten and she moved about in the market place like a shadow, unseen and unnoticed by any one, even though all the children could see her very much in the streets.It was a paradox which we could not understand then as we were all busy scrambling to get into some job or the other as soon as we finished our studies with great difficulty swimming against all odds and taking them jovially as part of the game.

I got a job which was not enough to make a proper living by the standards of the time and had to move away in search of better prospects.  I kept on coming and going like the Maveli of old times once in an year and in one of such years one of the general news I heard was "Nammude  aa pranthathi Mariyam ille,  avaru marichu poyi'.  So simple.  She was no more.   No body knew who did her last rites, but every body knew that 'SHE WAS NO  MORE'!..There would have been such unowned lifes in other villages and human centres through out the country..Who knew?  












Tuesday, 19 August 2014

"Rip wan winkle"

Inasu was going to Delhi.  He did not make any arrangements for the going as he did not consider it any thing to specially arrange for.  He attended the local church in the morning, went to office afterwards, reached back in the evening.  Spent some time in the market place where most of the people were known, and some of them he spoke to or they spoke to him according to need.  Had tea and snacks in the old style tea shop.  At times his brother or father joined him!  The tea shop owner was his class fellow.  Life was simple.

No body distrubed others and the general public took a simple interest in the affairs of other people so as not to hurt them. From such simple life, Inasu had got  employed in a new job in Delhi, so he had to go.    He shared the information to one of his benefactors called Rappai Chettan.  Rappai Chettan always appreciated his studies and works.  He wanted to see the job order! Inasu produced the envelope he had got asking him to join! Rappai Chettan after going through it enquired if he had reserved a ticket.  Inasu thought of it for the first time!  Rappai Chettan insisted he buy a ticket and gave one hundred fifty rupees to him and Inasu was off to the town railway station.  The ticket seller turned the ticket holding rack and pulled out a thick little ticket on which was a thing curvy black print and the names Trichur to New Delhi.  Inasu pocketed the ticket for ninety seven rupees and was off in a 'Jayanthi Janata' train in which the travellers were all friendly and the food distributers were keen to satisfy the customers in the train with vegetarian food, non vegetarian food and tea all the time.

Time passed and Inasu returned to his home village market centre once again.! The market centre had slight changes in that the roads had slightly widened, the old shops had disappeared.  The old grocery  shops had disappeared, the tailor shops had become 'Dress Makers'! The barber shops changed to 'beauty saloons',  'Men's Moods' etc.  The Grocery shops was there which Inasu did not recognize at first.  They had been now called 'Super Markets'.  Some of them had started 'Take One, Get One Free!'

The culture was slowly changing.  Tea shops had been renamed Hotels and various other names!  Service had become more fashionable, but less out of the heart.  No body knew Inasu now!  All were new generation people which hurt Inasu badly.  The old Sreeramachandra bus was not to be seen.  Buses have become all new and too fast with blaring terrible horns going almost rubbing Inasu's ears.  The place had changed like anything!

Almost every house near the centre  market place have given way to shops.  The normal space where people could wait or stand or be there for a while has all been appropriated by the shops and the roads have grown on either side taking away the walk space making moving around dangerous!  Vehicles oversped with blaring horns terrorising the walking public and at times making accidents.   The bicycles have given way to motor cyclkes and scooters.  The yellow topped taxi cars have disappeared almost altogether and have changed colour to tourist cars.

Policemen's dress have grown downwards to long pants and the funnel caps have become flat caps.  Changes of the times.Young and little children of the earlier times have all become old people some with old age illnesses, and most with very white hair and a kind of tiredness on their faces.  The climate had been without much change, rain, shine and a slight winter in the November-Decembers.  Thats all.  It is the people who had changed.  A kind of urgency has come into everybody.

Inasu had seen only a cool, slow village centre when he left, but that was not to be seen anymnore.  the bullock carts disappeared and small mini trucks appeared, that too, went in break neck speed.  The drivers and helpers in them if ever they are close by were very touchy, and if need be abusive.  no body considered any body.  An over all change!  He looked for old friends but none was to be seen.  The old land marks were there, some transformed.  The film Talkies had changed to a Marriage Hall.  The Church interiors had been repainted at places badly as the old masterpieces could not be redone or repaired.  But some new ones, of course good ones, had come up.  The floor marbles were the same, but some of them totally worn out losing their sheen, shine and the flowers on them.

The open courtyard of the church had been covered with tin roof and the only well (which carried water even in the harshest of summers were not to be seen).  had been covered to use the upper space as water can be now pulled by electric pumps.  The church tower and the large ground was still there as a mark of the old times.A toilet is normally not found in a church or if there is one, it will be unusable.  Here a new one has been built which is an improvement.  Don't misunderstand one can use it always!  When any one most urgently needed it, it can be found locked.  Any other public place,  same is the condition.

Inasu walked home and came to the main highway to walk a furlong to turn into a by lane leading to the paddy fields.  A bus just passed by with a great roar and the man at one of the doors terrified Inasu by striking strongly on the doorside of the bus to shoo away Inasu.  This was unexpected.   There is no rule against striking on the bus door when the bus reached your ear that Inasu knew of.  Inasu was terrified.  Inasu increased the pace to reach the by-lane quickly.   Once in the by lane, a motor cycle with three youth on it passed Inasu .  While whizzing past, the boys on the bike shouted in Inasu's ears "Oldie, want to live.  Just come out on the road!"  and they passed.

The new Kerala. Something has gone wrong with the driving public. Most of them stared at the other drivers and at times passed epithets.  Their eyes burned when they looked at others!  The old Sreeramachandra bus driver and the happy conductor and the ever helping cleaner all very friendly and with an iquisity about all the happenings of the village are gone!!  Now everybody was in a hurry, they never wanted to know anyting.  They were angry at everybody.

Inasu passed the by-lane and walked into the paddy fields.  Only a bit part of the field was remaining from what was a vast area.  Most of the other parts ha ve been developed into house building places.The water in the side canals which used to carry fresh water has been contaminated now with the presence of various kinds of cleaning powders and effluents and the water life has disappeared.  The ponds have been converted into water wells for pumping out water for various projects in the city.















Sunday, 17 August 2014

Orappan paranja katha ! (Story told by a father!)

The boy and his father had a lot of years difference between them.  But the boy never felt the difference as the father was a rock of safety!Since the time was the last generation, there was not much give and take between father and son.  Father was about forty eight and the son was about six and going to school to attend the little children's class.

The first remembrance of father was of a very satisfied and happy father bringing small tops to play and watching the boy and his brother playing with them.  When the top did not spin, the father showed how it is twined and put or thrown to make a good spin.  The children learned fast.  He worked in a small factory slightly far away from the house and when he came back in the late evening he brought the 'mithayis' (sweets) in the form of small seeds of peas in different colours, in the form of other seeds, tiny balls all in different colours and tastes!  The boy really felt thrilled at these!  And when father brought sweets, he brought it in large packets which was really a treat in a much less than well to do house.

Even then there was not any stories the father told the boy until a lot of time later.  Because, most of the time, only mother spoke to father.  No body else.  Father invited the eldest brothers or sisters on matters of importance or at times asked their opinion.  But not to the children or the boy.  In fact, he never asked the boy at all.  It was not needed.  As the boy did not know anything at that time.

The boy had been in Class II and it was then the boy and his brother was afflicted with the disease of skin pimples on both the legs.   This was common in the part of Kerala where the boy lived.   Every house had small children and all of them, almost all, had this skin problem and these were treated with the 'kashaayams' (ayurvedic medication) which was prescribed by the Vaidya (the village ayurvedic doctor).  The Vaidya always prescribed kashaayas but any kashaaya he prescribed was to be made at home with a lot of roots, barks, stem, leaves and flowers and when these were boiled in two to three litres of water to make into half litre and given to the boy one ounce each three times a day, with a further addition of a special powder and a bit of honey for 'membody' (the final touch) was invariably bitter.

Consuming this was difficult for the boy.  There was a much difficult procedure everyday the boy had to pass through.  This was the afternoon bath.  The skin pimples would have well become ripe and blown with the puss sticking on the legs making a little cover by itself.   These had to be brushed out with a few pieces of barks called 'incha' which is again a piece of a tree barc.  This was usually assigned to mother and the sweet mother did not show any mercy when it came to cleaning.  She had her tough work of cleaning a lot of utensils and clothes which did not allow too much time to do all that.

So she really caught hold of the boy and gave a touch rubbing which brought out the skin cover of the extra puss and made the wounds clean at times blood coming out of it.  This was stopped by applying medicated oil.   At times mother could not get the time to do this and that is when father entered the scene to clean up the boys of their puss covering during their hot water bath.  The boy closed his eyes expecting the drubbing and rubbing!  But a little while later he opened the eyes slowly as he did not feel any rubbing.  The father was just looking at him and when he opened his eyes, he simply asked "Feeling afraid?"  The boy was really ashamed.  Father told him to sit down on a small wooden seat and told not to be afraid as when he will rubb out the puss cover, no pain will be felt!!  The boy could not believe it initially.   But when he started slowly rubbing it with the pulped 'incha' bunch, it was being done ever so slowly and ever so softly, the boy was surprised how a man who was so strong and big can do such a small thing so softly.  When the boy looked at him he asked back again:  "Still feeling afraid?"  The boy said "No."  and smiled at father for the first time!!

That is when the boy started to talk to father at times and father also reciprocated by talking to him!  Father took a while to clean up the wounds but there was no pain at all and it seemed that he was rubbing the areas with sponch! Warm water, slight rubbbing, warm water, rubb again, warm water rubb again for a long time, warm water and the wound was clean.   This repeated till all the pimples were rubbed clean and they were really open now.  After full cleaning, he touched them with a clean towel very softly and dried them up!  Then the 'special chemparatyadi velichenna' (medicated coconut oil)was applied with a hens feather specially kept for the purpose!

Even though, cleaning up and hot water bath may be how so ever soft, it used to time the boy and he would be feeling sleepy but uneasy.  Uneasiness is due to the next procedure of consuming the medication called the kashaaya!  kashaaya how so ever good it may be, it will be bitter.  Now that is brought by mother along with a little plate with a piece of sweet jaggery in it.  This wonderful stuff really made the mouth of the boy watery!  Oh..the jaggery!  Mother simply gave the kashaaya and said "have this before I can give you the jaggery".  She never said I haved to take the medicine.  She only talked about the jaggery!!  The boy liked the jaggery and hence looking at the jaggery he consumed the kashaaya and mother gave him the jaggery.

There had been times things were not so smooth in consuming the kashaaya !  At that times, they boy insisted not taking the kashaaya.   Mother insisted only to a point and after that she had a crude method which always worked.  This is to make the boy lie on the mat on the floor (The boy used to sleep on the floor in a leaf mat).  Once she is ready with the kashaaya, she will come with a 'kunji kayil'  which is a country spoon or desi spoon, which is made of a piece of bambu handle and a coconut shell scoop. She will suddenly sit at the head of the boy, put the handle of the kunji kayil in the boy's mouth and hold it like a little crow bar with the result the boy cannot close his mouth and poured the kashaaya into his mouth.  There is no way, the boy could prevent consuming the medicine.

The boy wanted to avoid this difficult situation and hence always found solace in the jaggery route!  At times, if mother thought the boy could be hungry, she offered that kanji is ready and asked the boy if he would like to have a little.  The boy always liked to have the kanji, which was an elixir to him.English medicines were not as easily available in those days, neither in the house or outside in the market as is now.  Nobody in the family of the boy ever thought of it.  Conditions was the same in other houses also.  The times were far far back and the feudalistic style was there, but slowly changing.  Father told him not to worry about the pimples and their ripening as they would go away after the kashaayam was over.

After refreshments both father and son proceeded to take a walk to the large pond near the paddy fields.  There were large parts of land near the pond with green grass where people came in the late afternoons, sat around gossiping, played cards, some of them swam in the pond or bathed, and the area was generally clean.  The ford nearby was very wide and there was fresh water in it all the time and the ford was connected to the pond to allow overflow water to escape in the rainy season.  Now the ford has fallen to voracious neighbours who have made it into a canal and the connection of the ford to the pond is gone. The left over area is dirty and the pond is used to wash cattle and clothes!

At the pond side embankment, the father son duo sat while the father told about the landscape and the important people of the town and the kind of life one will generally have if he is not educated.   He said, education is all and the child absorbed it fully.  Without education, he said, one only vegetated.  Since the boy was at school, he made a mark in his mind.  Father continued that one has to be very polite to his teachers and consider them seen God!  They are the ones who will open the eyes and one will see things which otherwise one will miss!  Insistence was also put on the importance of respecting one's father and mother!   Father said a poetry to insist his points "Matha, pitha, daivam. Daivam thaan gurunaathanum, ivvannam orthirunnorkke, kaivaroo sarva kaaryavum!" See God in Father and Mother, Guru or Teacher is also God!  Only those who keep these in mind, achieve all the things in life!  The boy made it by heart.   A great saying he thought!

























Wednesday, 6 August 2014

The sadness and hope of a mother!




Mother lived in the village at the extreme end where the land started falling to the lower fields where paddy was the cultivation. The fall had some distance and all that places had large compounds with thorny hedge fences and at times huge bamboo groups which was house to small animals and snakes. Mother lived with all of us children, seven of us and Father. Two of the elders had gone away to live separately as they were married and had children. One had died in infancy due to 'karappan'. Karappan is a kind of disease which usually affected children and the effect of it brought out small pimples which eventually burst after ripening into swellings and the outer skin got affected on the legs and slowly upwards.  If not treated properly, it was lethal. Father and mother tried to treat the kid with the help of the local 'Vaidya' but did not succeed. The child died before it could reach a doctor.

The house was a simple one, called a 'irupathimukkole padinaaru', a measure according to the Malayalam Civil Engineers called Aseris who were good at fixing such small houses which were airy and good for natural living. It had a slanting roof with tiled top and below a large central hall-room, and 'chaayippus' on all sides one side of which being turned into kitchen. In those olden days forty years back such houses were the norm for the simple folk. They were easy to construct and not very hard on the pocket. They could also be made both with stone walls and also with mud walls. The house we were in were with mud walls. Since the two eldest brothers had left for separate living and the house was needing repairs, it was got done by a set of 'Aasaris' and within a period of a month or so of its repairs, the main wall at the back of the house developed cracks at night!

Mother revolved around the house or the whole things in the house revoved round the mother. Father was the hunter provider and he took the brunt of it, for all of us selflessly. In those days once a family, albeit, a small family is set up with a few children, (the nuclear family syndrome was not there at that time and women never shied away from carrying children or suckling them.), it was the father in the family who single handedly provided for the family, but the mother, continuously worked day in and day out to look after the children and the home. She looked after all of them and kept the house.

The children when they grew up according to age, from the age of six or seven onwards started to give a helping hand to the mother and at times stood for the other younger siblings. The living together and give and take they learned in the family from the very beginning. Same was the case here. The two brothers who had started to live separately was not very far away, but they visited the bigger family rarely due to their own loads.

None of the famillies had the sort of facilities that is seen now, and none of them had the over ambitions also. The life revolved around the village, the church, the market place, the normal old time villages.

In this setting in a month of May, the house wall was cracking and the load of the roof was daunting and threatening to come down. Eldest sister was doing her home work late at night and she heard the crack and the slow breaking of the wall as if it is an earth quake. All others were asleep. Mother was in the kitchen. Sister alerted Mother and all of us children who were sleeping were called up and we ran to safety quickly without knowing what had happened. It was a news in the neighbourhood and we were taken to a good neightbour's house and we spend the night in their verandah telling the fac ts and dissecting the reasons why it would have happened and thanking God for the miraculous escape!

Our immediate neighbour took a rosary from one of us, wore it and went into the cracking house to bring out the articles and food left prepared in the kitchen! He did it in three four goings in and coming out which we all watched breathlessly!

Now, the threat of the monsoon was in the air. We cannot continuously live in the verandah of our neighbour. Father went in search of people to redo the structure and a few people came. Some of them returned saying that we will not touch or get in a cracking house which is dangerous! One of the guys, a very dark gentleman, called 'Thevan'  used to farming work, stayed on and said: I shall do it, if you really want it. We can bring down the house and make a temporary one, as the wall can't be rebuilt, as it is a mud construction and the rains are near by! This was readily agreed to.

A new temporary house comes up!


Thevan, the farm worker, who offered to do the heroic work went up the tiled roof to the astonishment and dismay of every one around and stood there like a hero winner!! Every body down below stood with baited breath, in the anxiety of seeing a house collapsing and what may happen to this guy up there!!  But the house was very truthful and generous, so said Father.   The man started to remove the tiles slowly and pass it down to the on lookers and all of us who like small ants, collected them and put them in racks.  The house top was clean in a few hours time and the man came down.

Now all the elders pushed the house with crow bars and the whole house collapsed to one side.  Very quickly the upper roof all made of bamboo bars were dismantled and some more huge bamboos called 'Mala Mula" were ordered.   The elders had by now become a group and the whole motif were to make a temporary shed house.  The two elder brothers who had been away living separately appeared from no where and started to lead the work. When the group started the next morning, it was a real sight of team work and cooperation.   Mud bricks were made by some, the bamboos were cut and shaved by some, a few made the markings in the compound slightly away from the fallen structure house, some continuously drew water from the deep well for the whole work, and quickly with the help and guidance of Thevan, in the house corners poles were erected and on the top of it a temporary shed roof was hammered in.   The tiles were passed up as it came down and spread in style, the simple style as it used to be done in old Kerala, in rows with the 'moola odus'  on the top where the roof started slanting to both sides.  

The shed house was ready by the evening!  In the extreme front of the house was a 'Karisu' tree which was used as such as a pillar of the house and the acute top of the house was co-joined to it. It became the Samson's pillar holding the house in the front.  Exactly like the front pillar was another a little smaller 'Karisu' tree was at the back side of the shed house which carried it from the back side.   On these two 'Karisu' tree pillars stood the house with the support of a lot of junglee bamboo poles, with the express idea of the walls to come up later, slowly, as and when the mud bricks dried up.   In a matter of two three days, quite a few small rectangular mud bricks were dry and ready, and  the team of nine and Mother and Father hastened to put the mud bricks in place, Thevan, the farm worker leading the works and guiding all of us in various ways of putting them in place.   By the evening a line of half walls were ready and it really looked like a house!!  

When the farm worker and our two brothers left for the day, the rest of the family sat down for prayers and to thank God for his abundance kindness of getting us such a great house in such a short time!!  After prayers Father and mother led a discussion in which it was decided that the bottom side of the mud brick walls had to be supported with loose earth as an embankment from outside and cemented by wetting the mud slightly from outside to make it a bit clayish,  and then to cover the upper uncovered areas with 'panambu'  a kind of bamboo mats.  Without the bamboo mat coverings the house seemed to be an air conditioned open air theater where we enjoyed our frugal night meal for the first time in days, in the peace and quietness of the starry night.   After the meal all of us came out and walked up and down in the front of the house and over the old fallen house in the brightly lit moon light!!

For privacy reasons, the house was got covered with the panambu sheets the next day.  Now, it looked a gorgeous house indeed!   We set up prayer stand, made partitions among the walls, making the whole structure into three large rooms with customary door frames from room to room and the last room was done up as kitchen!!  The kitchen fire was started in right earnest, and it did not go off normally for the next ten, fifteen years! That night when we sat down for supper, it started to rain!  Yes, a spell of  monsoon, called the 'Thulavarsham'  had arrived without radio news and TV shows, as was customary in those days.   It came according to the seasons unannounced!

The 'Rithus' or seasons changed unannounced.   The only available thing  was the gramophone which did not give news!  The news papers were  available in the City and Town only!  And the people were happy without them, even though at times they were seen in rich houses which could afford them!

The earlier house lied in a heap of rubbble and mud, in front of the new shed house as a grim reminder of our sudden loss of our good house in which we had lived!  There was a coconut tree which had too few coconuts and a mango tree which never gave any fruit but had a lot of foliage on it.  We had a dog, a brownie, too loving, and always receiving us at home when ever we came from outside!  The cats in the house were numberless!

The joy of living was there!  The joy of having the dog and the cats around us were superb.  The cats purred on us whenever we sat down to study or do some work.  If they can't climb on to our lap they remained near us on the ground.  Whenever we came from outside, first the dog will greet us by coming running to us far up, before we reached the house and once at the house all the cats surrounded us meowing and touching us with their up raised tails and going around our legs again and again.  This went on for one or two minutes.  Then they will go away and wait to see the next activity.  If there is no activity, they will go and sleep.

The dog also settled down in a sitting position for a while watching the immediate activities!  All the same, the dog did not simply sit there.  His ears kept on turning in one direction or the other from where any kind of sounds came.  If he detected something or heard and unusual sound or noise, he bolted to that side like a general going to a war front.   At times, we can hear incessant barking of bow..wows... and then we followed the dog to see what is happening.  This could be anything from another dog straying to his area, a tropical snake, some other animal or straying cattle.  Some times it could suspicious people too!  Dogs have a peculiar way of barking at suspicious people!  Strange of them how they recognize it.

The most important service he used to do is giving us company when we went out at night.  He forewarned us of a snake anytime he came across one! He will bark at it and also stop us from moving forward by coming running to us and standing in our way even touching our leg!  Great beings, these dogs!   A rat etc. he did not bark at.  He simply went and caught hold of it.  Thats all.  But then, the cats normally took care of the rats and small snakes.

Mother fed all of these along with all of us children!  The dog had a small plate in which his food was served from time to time plus a share of food given by father to him as a special endearment.  The dog always waited for it.  He knew his master well.  Again strange ways of dogs.  Food was made by mother two times a day once in the morning and once in the afternoon.   We had a huge earthen pot in which rice was cooked on a kitchen fire for serving the hot rice during noon and in the late evening.   It took time to cook as the old time cooking was with cut pieces of dry wood being burned in the kitchen fire and the earthen pot over it.  Apart from the two major foods there used to be a morning meal of kanji with a side dish in normal times if the situations were conducive.  In the evening at times we had tea without milk.

Mother took a lot of pains in making these as cooking was a great labour with the old time kitchen without any facilities.  Water was drawn from a near by well which was very deep.  May be fifty sixty feet.  There was a 'pala' which was tied on both sides with a small bamboo stick in the centre from side to side and made into a contraption to hold water.  Both corner tied well and the stick running from corner to corner made it look like a boat.  From corner to corner two small  ropes and tide and brought into a common joint to be tied to the main drawing rope.  The drawing rope is passed through a pulley on two poles of 'Karisu' tree which took root after planting there in a slanting position to hold a small cross bar of wood on which a pulley is hung.  Through this pulley the water is drawn regularly.

Most of the houses., I mean the poor houses, used to draw water in the near around houses like this.  Those who had a better income used to have a well cover made up with stones and cemented with proper pulley poles and pulley on them.  A well cover or man cover as it was called was necessary to protect people from falling into the deep well accidentally and many times ending in deaths.  Those poor beings pulling water from the coverless wells was somewhat risking their lives in the process, which was at that point of time, nobody gave a thought to. As I was slowly growing and inquisitive, I was keen to see how this is being done and asked permission from mother to draw water!  She straight away refused me, saying it is not for me at that age to draw water.  She said, she is in any case, destined for it and had no complaints and she did not want me to die at that small age of drowning in the well.

I knew, she was saying this out of filial love and affection!  I persisted.  At last she relented on the condition, I should be very very careful and always keep in mind this is a tricky thing and not for children.  I slowly proceeded to the well poles and checked the strength of the 'Karisu poles'.   Perhaps, father had planted them. They were very strong and had a few sprouts on the top with plenty of leaves and a few flowers. I applied my force on the poles and looked into the well.  Oh..!!  It was too deep and full of water!  The water looked green as there was not enough light reaching the bottom.  There were hostoria grass on the side walls of the well, making looking inside difficult to an extend!  But the side from which I was looking, from where water was being drawn regularly was clear of the moss and grass as due to continuous usage of the rope going down and up, they cannot grow there.

I slowly sent in the 'pala' contraption and in the water it made a small blurp sound.  I pulled it a little and dipped it again to check the fullness and after one or two dippings, started pulling it up.  The pulley turned on the rod beautifully and the full water 'pala' came up. I held the rope on the left hand tight and with the right hand pulled and took hold of the water full 'pala'  to my side.  I poured the water in the earthen 'kodams' ( a kodam is a small necked round vessel to store water in olden days) and took them to the back side of house near the kitchen and kept them there and announced my first drawing of water to mother.  Naturally, she was happy.  That made me too happy.  Some little help.  I announced:  "Any time you need water, just tell me, this is nothing, I shall draw any number of times whever you needed water" !
She retorted by saying "No..no.. You don't have to draw water here, that I will do, you go and study, that is your work!"

I returned to my studies and mother returned to her chores.  After cooking she had washing, which was substantial.  The only solace was at that point of time, the house hold conditions being very poor, we had too few dresses, minimising the wash load.  There were no washing machines or special magic powders! The only thing available was bar soap, washing soda and hot water! With these things mother worked lke a washing machine too.  Then some dresses were being pressed.  This was mostly the work of eldest sister at times assisted by younger sisters.  Very hot rice was put in a brass plate and this plate is moved on the dresses to get them pressed!  This continued for a while till we got our first brass iron-box. If sisters were busy studying or any other urgent works, mother did it.  Any left over work, mother did.

Naturally, my eyes were on both the plate type pressing as well as the iron-box pressing!  The plate thing did not interest me, as the brass plate got unduly hot and I could not hold it.  So that was a strict no no for me.  I will, rather, wear an unpressed dress, rather than risking the hot brass plate in my bare hands.  A hand glouse etc. was unheard off.  The came the pressing box! Even though it was called an iron-box, it was actually made of coarse-brass with a very polished bottom.  It had a lid with hinges on one side, and with a holdable wooden handle and a small locking device on the other side where the lid could be locked with a turnable 'palli' (the common wall lizard)  with its tail becoming the lock which went into a slot.  The lid had to be opened and coconut shell charcoal is put in it and fired into a small furnace.  Once the fire is in top position like the old coal trains, the lid is closed and locked and used the handle, the box is moved on the cloths as required!

I took permission as usual, at the earliest, to be trained in this pressing stuff too.  I started doing the pressing, especially father's shirt which had a lot of tucks here and there.  Even though, I did it for a while, soon I was losing interest in it.  I was always curious to learn any new trick, but once mastered, I slowly lost interest, and thought that anybody can do it.  What is there?  Oh..pressing.  But no.  Whenever, mother came and asked me seriously, I was for it.  When I thought of the difficulties she was taking to hold the family, any work she said was a pleasure and I did it.  She never said anything unnecessarily.  Almost everything she did herself.  We were a family and we were nine members there and doing it all for nine individuals every day every time was some work.  Had our two brothers living away had been there she would have done it without complaint for them too.  The brothers and their wives were kind to us, so they went away with their children who were also little kids.

All the same they visited us at times which made us very happy.  At times when they separate living had problems both the brothers and their little families joined us and the whole house was agog with activities and sinergy.  At such times there twenty or more people at every meal.  Mother used to say, we do not have lunch or supper, but a feast all the time!!

Sisters used to broom the front area and sides of the house first thing in the morning.  But mother's works started even earlier before it became dawn.  She got up from the sleep when all of us will be dreaming and away out of this world but not mother.   She would have started a new fire in the kitchen stove with small firewood and the first meal would be being readied for those who had to leave early and tea will be on another stove which is given to all of us on getting up and brushing!   Each of us brought new problems which she went on solving and if there is anything beyond her, then she referred it to father!

Once most of us are off and almost all her works are over, she will come to the front side of the make shift house and will inspect the 'Karisu' tree holding the front side of the house!  She always worried that the 'Karisu' is growing with new sprouts and that had to be cut out.  If the new sprouts or new little branches are not cut out, they will slowly lift the tiles over them and let rain water seep into the rooms and also the walls!  The walls were made of earthen bricks which should not get wet or else they will slowly give way by dissolving in rain water!!

Along with her, I also looked at the 'Karisu' tree and felt that has to be cut out! I was growing up.  I thought that it would be a bad idea to help mother by cutting them out!  I asked her permission for the same and she hasitatingly gave it saying that I shall be extra careful not to slip which is a normal common difficulty on slanting tile roofs. I slowly but carefully, fixed the ladder, got on to the roof top and reached the 'Karisu' and cut out the extra branches! The slightly lifted up tiles now sat in place.  Mother was happy and told about it to father in the evening.  And he said:  'Hereafter you can tell such things to him, he will do it, he is my son!"  I was thrilled by that honour!  This was more than a diploma or degree to me!

Once that was over, the rains started!  Of course, the water from the roof did not occur.   But water started dripping at places where two tiles joined.  Normally it should not. But when the down pour is too heavy, some of the tiles, which had less depth on their grooves will send out overflow drippings into the inside of the house.  Again, mother was worried and this was brought to my notice where I was reading.  She asked if I can do something! "Yes, of course, we can stop it" was my reply.  I knew a little trick which in those days, everybody used to do.   A 'paala' (the la here is pronounced as the la in colour') is cut into pieces and one long piece is brought beneath the leaking joint and fixed by sending the two ends inside the wooden support holding the tiles.  That did the work and the leaking stopped.

For all kinds of works our home dog gave company. In the company of the dog, we were never alone.  He was a village dog, a brownie, but stood his ground when anybody was in difficulty. We, the children played with him to grow up.  He was too little when he was brought to our house.  He was bottle fed for a few days and given a gunny bag to sleep.  I still recalled my second eldest brother feeding him from a milk bottle.  Mind you, it was a time, when we children rarely got milk!  The little guy was cute and fast to grow up.  Soon he started to eat all kinds of foods and will be at our feet all the time, especially when we were at any meal.  Everybody out of love and affection gave him a little food or part of a delicacy which he relished.  But with father the bonding was different.  He had kept a small plate for him and food was equally served in his plate as well by mother.

He grew up and grew us all up by playing with us and protecting us and moving to places dangerous, where we could not.  He also forewarned us of impending dangers!  He was a guard to us all the time!  The most interesting part was when he slept just outside the door.  The door was not closed in those days at night.  Father used to sleep near the door.  He was an epitome of strength and when he was at the door, we had nothing to fear!  But the Brownie protected father too at night, by sleeping outside the door in the verandah.  Many times we saw when the temperature dipped the guy slowly crept in and slept side by side with father or any of us who were near by.

Soon when he was one foot in height and the canines were out he started to bark and at times growl.  That was menacing.  We reported the matter to father and he had a close look at Brownie.  He said :  "Oh..it is time he is castrated.  I will get Thomachettan to do it".  Thomachettan came next day with a 'X' trap and some leaf combination cream.  We children were asked to move away and he and father and eldest brother got to gether in the treatment and in a matter of half an hour the operation was done.  Thomachettan gave final warnings and instructions, not to distrub the dog for three days, and give some medicines which he entrusted father.  The dog should not be moved away from the gunny bag and allowed to rest.  A new leather dog collar and a chain (here chains are common instead of the leash) was brought and fixed on him, so that he may not run away to take his rounds, which was customary for him. 

We found he was operated for the removal of his testicles and we were told since it was a country dog, this part of it made him more docile and tamed. That was true.  He healed quickly surprising all of us children.  In a while we forgot all about it.  Brownie started to jump and run as usual and played with us.  The occasional growl and showing of the canines had gone!  Next ten to fifteen years were an epitome of man dog bond in which we were companion to each other.  The dog had a family in all of us and we had a loving Brownie who still lingers in our minds, after many many years of his passing away due to old age!










Saturday, 2 August 2014

Oramma paranja kadha!! (The Story told by a mother!!)

Oramma paranja kadha!! (The Story told by a mother!!)

The boy always wanted to hear stories.  That was a permanent request of the boy.  It was not easy for the mother to say stories always.  So, he said almost the same stories always.   The boy did not mind that as long as the mother kept up the story.  

The story was of a boy.  the boy had a mother, a very loving mother who found it difficult to make both ends meet, but looked after the boys well, giving him all that he required, and telling him stories.

The boy in the story grew up fast looking and seeing everything around and also believing that great days will come to all.  The mother of the boy told him stories which painted a great life for the boy and the boy believed in the stories.  The boy had dreams of the rainbow in his mind and wanted to bring a rainbow to their lives.

The mother said the boy when he grew up planted a plantain tree and it was looked after.  The boy did not leave any stone unturned to tend the plant and the plant grew up fast and in time brought a bunch of bananas.   The bananas thrilled the boy and the boy asked the mother.  Now the bananas have come.  Let me go to the sea side and sell them.  Not yet son, the mother said.  Wait!  Let them grow ripe old and then when the skin darkens, then pluck it.  Take it to the  sea side at night and wait there! 

Keep waiting.  They will come. "Who are they?"  The boy asked curiously.  The mother said:  "They are the 'neermanushianmar'!  Surprising!  the boy found it surprising.  His eyes opened wide.  "Neermanushyanman varum alle amme?"
(Neermanjushyanmar will come, isn't it Mummy?")  "Yes, Son.  They will come, you have to wait of course!

The bananas ripened and became over ripened and became dark.....
The boy went to the sea side with the darkened bananas in the late evening and waited.  He waited and waited and his patience was running out.  Then, he remembered his mothers words. "You have to wait, they will come".  The boy waited still further and his eyes were drooping!

Then he heard the sound in the water waves.  There were small little men coming up from the water.  They looked like people walking without any dress.  Their bodies glistened like silver!  They came to the boy, the only invidual on the shore at that time and asked "Do you have any thing for us to eat?"  The boy said "Yes, my dears, here, the best fruit on land.  Have these!"  He offered the fruits to them.  They ate the fruits and gave him lots of gold coins. One of them did not have any gold coins, so the boy told, don't worry, you need not give any.  The neermanushyan said, "we own the seas, how can it be I don't give you any thing"  He ran to the waves and went in and came out quickly and gave a few coins to the boy and all of them ran back to the waters.

The moon light was on the waves of the sea and the sea shore was lit and there was a great calm except for the sound of the waves.   The boy walked home with all the gold and gave it to his mother and they lived happily ever after!

The boy was asleep by the time the neermanushyans went back to the sea.  At times he will be awake! He only listened upto the getting of the gold.  The boy always thought, let me grow up.  What a wonderful thing.   Just go to the sea side and wait and get all the gold giving a few bananas.   Great idea!  One day the boy asked mother: "Do you really need the gold?"   The mother said, "Not really!  but you see our house and its poor condition?  The difficulty we are facing in giving the fees for others.  When you get the gold, all that difficulties will be over, my son!"  There were tears in her eyes!  The boy had no doubt now.  She was telling a story and putting him at the centre of it.  The suggestion as understood by the boy was simple!  "Grow up and get the Gold!" 

The boy kept it in his mind and went to sleep.  He heard that story again and again and at times dreamed that the Neermanushyans have come and given a lot of Gold to him.  And of course, the Neermanushyans have to go back to the sea before it is dawn.  Again out of curiosity, the boy asked the mother:  "Mother, when can I go to the sea?"  The mother embraced him and said:  "Son, you are very intelligent.  You don't have to go to the sea.   All that were in olden times. Now the Neermanushyans do not come.   When you grow up, you go over the seven seas, where your services will be at a premium and you will get enough money to set aside all our worries!"   Crossing the Seven Seas!   In later life, the boy grew up crossed the Seven Seas and made good the life of the mother and all his near and dear!!