The Beautiful Morning Rains!

The Beautiful Morning Rain in our Noida Colony!

This morning it rained in our colony in Noida. It rained heavily. It is a well built colony with good greenery and flowers. But there is enough room left for rain enjoyment by the catchment water flowing around and staying around for some time until it is pumped out !

The light thunder and lightning started before it was dawn and the wind brought the rains as a drizzle first and followed by a heavy down pour through the dawn which stopped by seven of the clock in the morning! This the time for the little kids to go to school. Various children were being either carried by their parents or sent out in little colourful umbrellas to get into their vehicles to be dropped to school.

Some could get into their cars in their sheds or garages themselves and ride through half foot deep water which had collected. The very little children who came out to go with their parents to buy milk, bread or butter enjoyed the accumulated water to the most, by splashing it around.

Normally a heavy rain and downpour will send off the electricity supply for a while but today that did not happen. So, the elevators were working. Inside the elevator was always cosy with the warmth of the little tube light. But one should not look around inside for once the sight falls on the long red spit which normally lies dried up in the corners will dampen the mirth which comes out of the great rain outside. It is customary for the workers to eat paan, ie. betel leaf with calcium and arecanut which when chewed gives a very red colour and keeps away foul odour of the mouth. But if the person spits out it spoils the clean places around and many do spit out even though there a lot of awareness advertisements, but the eaters mostly miss them.

Outside a small wind was there passing through the flowering plants and trees giving out their aroma. But the roads well tarred and the spaces well done up with warps in cement will not allow the water to go down and this floats around for a while when the little children who are lucky to come out can play for a while.

The sky remained overcast with a continuous drizzle which brought the temperature well down and all around enjoyed the beautiful graces of the rain.!

 Other side of the rain was the facility it allowed the animals and being around.  In the flowing waters was a little earth worm going on a visit to its near and dear.  In far away  Kerala, it is the water snakes which start out on visits in the flowing rain waters.  Olden times, it was the frogs which rules the roost in the rains and before and after it.  But now, that has changed as most of the frogs have disappeared and the ones available are few and far between.  Likewise the fish in the fresh water.! The little puppies taking a dip with their mother she dog ever watchful of its litter.  The flowers and leaves floating all over.  The only danger is from the live electric wires if they touched the water by any chance and an open pit where the cover slab has been removed.  If this happened one has to be cautious to climb out or cry out for help.  But such accidents, by the Grace of God does not happen in our Colony or in the city.  At times such are reported from far away places.!

Whatever it is, the rains are always a blessing which is enjoyed by one and all.  If we are lucky, which we are, we will have a wonderful week of rain now! Let me dedicate this to all the rain lovers!

The Steamy Steamy July Delhi

The steam tube called Delhi

The weather, in Delhi and suburbs in June and July,  is good if it rains.  If it doesn’t,  then we are in a steam bath.  The rains will bring in untold problems of water logging after the rains even though the temperature will come down very well and the breeze will be cool. 

Our little Maruti car did it well at eighty in the Express way which is a good road from Noida to Delhi.  The oft-driven route was a joy again to drive through.  Only place it slowed down is at Pragati Maidan where one has to be very careful as vehicles move inch by inch here,  up until the High Court and beyond till one enters the circle of India Gate.  Once we turn left at the end of Pragati Maidan we closein at the long red light near the end of the Old Fort.  Here we can stop and relax as the red light duration is pretty long here.  Once we stop and relax one can see a lady driver ahead continuously making up her hair, another typical regular Delhi Driver keeps his driver door open and elaborately spits paan juice (paan is generally a mixture of betel leaves, areca nut, calcium and at times a pinch of tobacco)  to the road.  Road is considered to be a regular place to spit, if one can stop for long.  As betel chewing is a normal phenomenon which is a heritage. 

The number of vehicle on the road is increasing day after day due to the rapid progress being made in all circles including the increasing number of car companies exhorting one and all to own one’s own vehicle.

Once in the circle of India Gate, the traffic is smooth and we take our smooth turns at our required road to the beautiful Raj path Road from which we go to our Krishna Menon Marg.  The little ‘Gnat’ fighter planes displayed at the Air Headquarters are unmistakably awe inspiring as they are small and had done their heroic bit in the 1971 war which had made several heroes and a new history !

We visited our Bank Branch of State Bank of India where with all the cooperation of all concerned we could get only half our work done.  Many a time things are like that here!  The first officer directed us to another officer for getting a renewal  of an account which we required badly.  The officer to whom I was to approach was surrounded by several people with a lot of papers in their hands.  They were all standing to get a linking of the ‘Aadhar’ which is a unique identification.  The officer concerned under a lot of pressure of the work volume, still, took my paper and offered to do it.  But, then the computer printer would not work. He tried to coax the printer into activity for long and ultimately failed.  Then he turned to his desk top for other works other than printing.  Then the work won’t  go further as the server was not working.  That was the end of our tether. 

We thought of riding back before the office release as the officials returning from office work will swell on  the roads.

Our assumption did not fail.  We got a generally free road through which we flowed back for forty five minutes to reach home in the evening breeze.  The moment we got down it started perspiring. The humid climate will persist till a good rain lashes Delhi and suburbs.  Hopefully in the next  three four days.

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.

The Seven sisters...!

The seven sister birds landed up on the jack fruit tree in the early morning itself.  They were just starting the day but from the early morning itself they had their differences of opinion.  The babbled so severely, that I had to make a show of 'about to throw a stone' acting on which they dispersed to distant trees but did not stop babbling. They kept on chirping on some unsolved issue as usual.

I never could get to know what could be their difference of opinion.  But from the various sisters who seemed to quarrel, these seven sisters could be human beings at a far far back time.  After a while I moved to the well to take water for daily use when these sisters came around again but without chirping.  They were keen looking for worms and other little food they could get under the trees where I had cleared some old leaves and branches. 

They also wait for my water which I used to put under the trees.  When the water is put they could get some water as well as some fresh worms which will come up when the loose soil is wet.  The well water is going down day by day as the summer is not receding even though there are shadows in the sky and at times lightning.  Monsoon is about to come.  The water in well has gone deep requiring the use of a pulley which I was avoiding so far.  The pulley marvel had helped people in this side of Kerala from a long long time.  The olden drum pulleys were built in wood which are generally non existent now.  The present pulley is made in steel with nice bearings on both sides.  The rope used in the pulley is now nylon instead of the old time coir which is now being revived.

The old time coir had an earlier competitor in the rubber beading rope which were generally cut out from the old time tyres etc.  Now that the tyre technology went on inserting steel plates etc. or so, the use of rubber rope is not seen being used or being av available. 

The 'seven sisters' have now moved away and a 'copper smith' has appeared on the scene looking for water and food.

In Honour of Mother...!

Mothers are a different lot. They come from heaven. They give everything they have to their children and become happy in what they have given. Then, they smile and return to heaven to smile at as twinkling stars at night to look after us. This was the case of my mother who never asked anything but always wanted to see us happy and wanted to give us something always, how so ever, little it was!

When we were little children she used to take us to the morning mass, through the short cut way, through the paddy fields and by lanes. In those days, the by lanes were un-tarred and on both sides were hedges made by little bamboo branches with thorns. Well done up by the artisans of the time and bound by the latest kind of steel wire, these hedges were places where snakes made their nests and even other wise grazing them will bruise us. Mother always watched over us to see we did not walk too close to the hedge or our feet do not strike against little rock stones which protruded at places on the walk path.

Once on the motor roads she was all eyes and ears to see that we cross the road safely, even though vehicular traffic was very little. She gave us directions to be pious in the church and be attentive before we entered the church. On the way back she allowed us to collect holy water for the house hold use from a special area where it was kept for taking by the parishners. At times I watched here during the mass and she was on her knees with the customary kerala Christian dress fully immersed in prayer. It seemed she was seeing Jesus and was talking to him for our well being. I never thought, she ever, prayed for herself. It will always be for us or for Father or somebody who is sick or in difficult circumstances in the family.

Once home, she was busy preparing food for us. In preparing food in olden times, it was A to Z work without the help of any kind of gadgeteries. Apart from the curring knife, scraping seat and the grinding stone everything had to be done by hand. The vessels were earthenware and the normal kitchen fire was smoky if one did it without expertise. Once suffered a lot of smoke and heat in the process any way as continuous standing near the item being cooked was a necessity as many of the dainty dishes were cooked under continuous stirring in low heat. Whenever things are put on low heat cooking, it is customary, the time taken will be much longer. This was the reason of the extreme patience of all golden mothers. And my mother did it every day.

The one and only request my mother made to me was “Son, now you can go and study”: She always said that and that sent me away to the front of the house where I used to sit down for study. While studying, she will come near me always asking “Do you want some tea?” Tea is only tea water only, a little tea dust boiled in water with a piece of jaggery. That was the stuff we had and that was the stuff we took. This too was normally supplied in the households only in the morning and evenings. But in our case as most of the children were studying, most of the time, one relaxation was put for us, that tea water is supplied and I was a permanent welcomer to this peculiar drink which till date thrills me. My mother will be smiling in heaven when I write this. She always knew, I liked it and she brought it to me upteen number of times, when she came to me to speak to me, about general matters.

Every once in a while she made some delicacy or the other and fed us. At times father brought choicest fish and it was mother who cooked it or fried it under father's directions. Such culinary delights from such ever fresh fish or meat, I have, never had even in the best of holtels, all over the world. Father used to say : “Eat as much as you can now when we are able to procure and feed it to you. In your own times, how so ever rich you may be, who knows, whether you can have all that delights”. He proved proverbial. Mother always sided with him and said : “Just heard what he said, have as much as you want” We did have as much as we wanted whenever supply was plenty.

Once while she was returning from church there was a small hurricane and all the trees were shaking. This was time just before the rains and rains were in the offing. She was walking home and she found the mango trees are shaken violently and all the ripe mangoes were falling on the road. She picked up as much mangoes as she could, kept in her whilte dothi (which she used to wear specially for church only) slowly walked back home without any consideration about her own safety. The garden fresh mangoes were a relishers delight. While relishing the mangoes, I asked her “Mother, you should have taken shelter somewhere, instead of going collecting the mangoes” She was casual in her reply : “When we come from church, Jesus will not allow any harm to come to us, not even a single mango tree or its branch fell whole of the time, I was on the road!” I was aghast at her deep faith!

Times went by and Ileft for my job to far off Delhi which took the first toll through the death of my father. He could not take the shock of my leaving the family. It became evident to me after a few months of my leaving home, which was a full home of several children and father and mother, as was the order of most of the households of the time. But against all odds, mother held on. She said “My son has got a good jobs far away in Delhi, but he comes every year” ! She said the every year with insistence. That was the ration of time, I could provide her! Once she said: “Ever since you leave, I keep counting the dates on the calendar..!” This statement of hers used to wet my eyes even to this day, even after long long she is gone..! She is still counting the dates for me in Heaver..!

The love of mothers...! That is unparalleled..! Those who enjoyed, those who relished it can never forget it..! (About the love of the father, next time...!)