” I expected at least two more ‘paramasukhams’ and a few more head movements” P.M.S teased and applauded, “that is the correct attitude. Enjoy even ills, worries and hurdles. Never get enslaved to negative thoughts. Everything is never lost. At least a bit will be at the bottom of your vessel, with which you can feed thousand hungry stomachs, if you have the blessings of the God. It took years for me to realize this truth. You are blessed that you can smile and even joke not only at jolts but even at blows. ” Those comments from the father of nine girls in whose face I had never seen a wrinkle of disappointment, is still retained in my memory.
“Thanks for that, periappa ” I addressed him for the first time, as my wife used to and enquired what went wrong in Charm-teacher relationship.
” Athai will tell you that story, but not now ” P.M.S, slapped on my bottom affectionately and alerted that it was time for me to get ready for the first function in the morning, ‘vratham’.
The melody waves from the nadaswaram, passing through the clear, cool morning breeze vibrated the clouds and birds in the sky and plants and animals near the Kaithamukku madam . However, many of our group members remained unmoved by those waves; they were worried why the morning coffee was delayed. When the whole world is illumined by the benevolent moon light, there are people who sit inside the house and look for the spiders on the roof , under candle light.
As per the practice followed, Vidwan Thangaswamy was ready to accompany the bride’s party to the bed rooms of the groom and his people, to wake them up. But the groom and many of his relatives were already awake.They hardly slept the previous night and there was no need for the musicians to enter their rooms making sound. But Venku ayyan, who had joined our group on his own, in the pretext of helping my father, was not prepared to settle for anything less. “Let us all go back to our respective bed rooms and lie down” he suggested with a serious tone. The bride’s party accompanied by the band should come there and wake up our members. Customs are to be honored, under any circumstances.”
“Are you crazy, Venku?” my father contained him. Looking at Athai, he said, “Give him a third decoction coffee; that will keep his mouth closed for a while.”
My father, before we landed at the kaithamukku matam, the PMS house where the wedding took place, had given clear instruction to us that none in our group should take any undue advantage as bride groom’s privilege and even if there were some shortfalls from the girl’s side, we should accept them with grace . ” Remember, every one including my eldest son”, he cautioned looking deep into my eyes, ” what is to take place is a happy reunion of two wings of the same family.
Tell me if you have any grievance but never a word to the PMS family. Be graceful in your behavior”
Still, there were people like venku ayyan, trenched in traditions so deep that they identified themselves with the aprons they wear, forgetting that aprons need change or at least a wash !
Apart from Venku ayyan, another person was unhappy with my father’s intervention- his son, me. It was my dream to be woken up by a band. I have been eagerly waiting for that luxury, from the day I heard about my marriage fixation. I shouldn’t jump out of my bed, the moment I hear the first beat of the accompanying ‘thavil,’ I had planned, but wait for a while till one or two keerthanas are completed. But the watchful eyes of Appa were everywhere.
Right from my childhood, I had a fascination for ‘nadaswaram’. My maternal grand father, for sometime, was the ‘karyasthan’or manager at the Kalpathy Viswanatha swamy temple and its trustee, the Raja Etiikkombi achan, had allowed him to stay in a portion of his house, close to the temple, where I was born. I vividly remember My ‘thatha’ driving the tastefully decorated palanquin, carrying the deity and several children, including me, to the accompaniment of nadaswaram vidwans. His abundant tuft, well tied and tilted to one side and wagging to the waves of music, his pearl studded ear ornaments, bright ‘spadika malai- dazzling chain made of crystal beads, snow-white sacred ash marks at the appropriate places, better brightened by and on his ebony frame, whip on his right hand and “aug, aug” sound – all these are fresh, in my memory. Even after shifting our residence to Olavakkode, I used to eagerly wait for the swarlapanas, carried by the cool night winds across the Kalpathy waters. Father, never allowed us to move out of house, during night hours.
Yes, Kalpathy was a river then! Young Kalpathians, who have been seeing only a canal, stagnated between Olavakkode and Kalpathy, will not believe my words. Like the divine flow of Bhagvath Geetha, between the warring groups, it used to flow slowly but majestically, between two rock ranges. Suppani vadyar, without the hindrance of a mechanical device to distort his bell metal voice, used to guide hundreds of Brahmins assembled on the steps leading to the Temple, while performing the ‘Maha sankalpam’ for our annulal upakarma ritual .The echo of his ‘Bharatha varshe, Bharatha khandea, (‘Bha’ not as in innocent ‘B’ for Balan or ‘P’ as in’Pavi’ but with the majesty due to that consonant), used to echo in the distant blue mountains and that would remain till midnight, when the cool moonlit waters used to repeat that sound, with a unique joy and satisfaction.
“Enna mukari vasikkarai – is this the way to play ‘mukari ragam?” Venku, asked the nagaswaram players, with the air of a popular musician or a respected critic.
“athu mukari alla sami, mohanama, – that is mohana ragam, not mukrari.” Kotchu Madhavi, the servant maid, who was swapping the floor, raised her head and corrected him.
“You, Trivandram people don’t know the art of making good coffee,” was the next remarks of the dissatisfied, Venku.
Kotchu, had a reply for that too. “Ithu kappi alla sami; chayaya – that is tea, not coffee. Coffee is on the other table”
Being a member of the groom’s party, he wanted to somehow belittle the host.
“Women are generally good looking in this house” was his next remark,” but their husbands are squinted eyed, potbellied or henpecked”
” This detestable babble should not be allowed to continue.” The wise servant maid decided and once servant women decides on anything, you know the result: Looking at Venku distastefully, she remarked “ningal manushan alla sami; madanu – you are not a human- an animal you are.”
I was surprised and also pleased to see Sharada teacher’s ‘Charm’, unusually well dressed and pleasantly smiling. That old decaying, depressed looks was replaced by a cool and composed appearance and there was a dignity and decency in his behavior. “Doesn’t he look like, Devanand?” I asked Ammu. “You have seen neither Devanand nor Johny Waker” replied the naughty daughter.
“Shall we play hide and seek?” I asked those around me, when I was blindfolded during ‘vratham’. “We are ready” was the spontaneous response. The response was from the elders; kids were yet to get up from their bed. You would have noticed, given an opportunity, elders will be more eager to join any games than young ones. They would have missed such opportunities during their childhood; their parents or teachers would have forced them to study and keeping the books in hand, they would have been dreaming of the playground and games. Those hidden dreams and desires raise their hood, later and continue to do so till the end. I have seen a respected retired judge, my neighbor, sucking juice from a mango fruit, holding the fruit in his hand, while going for morning walk! He was not insane. The unfulfilled ‘vasanas’ or aspirations of childhood has to come out one day or other, in one way or other. Had the son or daughter-in-law of the old man happened to see the sight of their respected father walking through the street, sucking juice from a ripe mango, they would have removed it from his hands and thrown it to the trash bin. The old man would, then, carry that ‘vasana’ to his next birth. If he has one of course- that depends on the judgments he would have passed on while in service or the way he treated his wife!.
The general tendency is to try to re- live the life already passed by, after a certain age. Only kids wants to grow and become ‘big’ except when they see their younger siblings on their mother’s laps. Youngsters do not want to go back the way they came through, unless youth has no charm for them. They would never like to leap into old age. No old man would get older; they would like to get younger, if there is a way for that. Unless the life is utterly intolerable, abysmally painful, none wants to get rid of it but it has to be forsaken. Anything which undergoes the process of birth, growth and degeneration has to face the process of termination too. There comes the concept of rebirth, for our solace. Complete one round , come back and enjoy the whole process. One more round, one more, one more like that. At every round, enjoy childhood, youth, manage or tolerate old age and then vanish. But one cannot run like that infinitely. Everything with a start has to have an end. That is moksham. When you had enough of the pains and pleasures of all the climates of your sojourn in this world, when you say willingly, ‘no more, no more ‘ Mother Divinity absorbs you as the fallen, dry fossil leaves are absorbed by the Mother earth. You have become an integral part of the earth. You have become THAT from which you sprouted.That is Advaitham. You do not exist as a separate entity. There is only ONE and YOU ARE THAT. “Thatwamasi “.
I love talking especially when there are people around to hear. There were enough and mostly elder ones.
“Hope you liked what I said ?” I enquired.
” Oh, we did ” They replied, “porum, coffee vandatchu- Enough. coffee is ready”
Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 12
Teacher’s whisper to my father, when he asked her to get inside and sleep, was ringing in my ears
” Take care of Charm. I can’t bear the sight of his drooping head and detached looks. His hair needs washing rather badly and some worries are pricking him from all around. I can read his face almost accurately “
Who is that ‘Charm’ ? Her son or a pet dog ? I should make a round tomorrow and find out who is that guy with drooping head and unwashed hairs .
The benevolent moon, like an affectionate mother, was covering the sky and earth with her cool embrace. I went to the garden and sat under the mango tree.
“You are already awake or you didn’t sleep at all ?” That was my mother. She came and sat close to me. I placed my head on her lap and tried to sleep. Soon my father and Sharda teacher also joined. They were followed by Athai, Ratnam and a few more. Lalitha too came but rushed back to report to her sister that my head was on the lap of my mother !
” Amma, sing ‘omana thingal kidavao ‘ I requested my mom. Set in Raga Neelambari, that unique poetic spring of Iriyamman Thambi, composed as a cradle song, specially for the baby who later became famous as Swathi Thirunal Maharaja, used to flow often into my soul, as a kid. Reminiscing my childhood, mother sang that lullaby in her own inimitable style.The moon and stars, clouds and winds enjoyed that melody. A few other elder ladies too joined mom. They sang for their children, small or grownup, married or unmarried, present in the adjacent marriage hall or in far away lands, contended with the delusion that the children were lying on their laps.
Even a mother lying in a hospital bed will try to fold her hands to hold her child close to her chest, when she longs for the child, might be oceans away.
Whenever some small functions or poojas take place at home, my mother used to peer through the front door to see whether one of her children, was coming to participate in the function though she knew that none would be going from their distant places of work. Recently my son- in- law landed unannounced, one early morning to attend the shastiyabdha poorthy celebration of his father .
He wanted to give them a surprise, the best birthday present. His mom too, perhaps, was looking at the front gate though she never knew her son’s plan. All mothers are same, in their affection their towards children.
The melody flowing from the garden awoke some male members too. Chamipattar was one among them. He looked highly disturbed. He wanted to sing but probably he could not. He approached my mother with folding hands and begged her in a pathetic tone , ” have mercy one me, Manni. Please sing the other composition of Iriamman Thampi ‘ Karuna chaivan enthu thamasam Krishna’ . I could not sing that song when my Unni (son) asked for that , from his death bed.. I see him now waiting behind the clouds, high above . My throat is parched like my heart and I cannot sing ”
Wiping the tears wetting his cheek, he continued,” let me seek the mercy of the God for my sins. I have washed my heart with my tears and it is now fit to receive His lotus feet.”
My mother, sadly, was not in a position to oblige him, as she herself had lost her first child . Though it was long time back, the incident itched in her heart by a diamond-pointed pencil, was permanently there and the wound burst open now seeing the sad condition of Pattar, who unintentionally stepped into the minds of my parents . They looked at each other with moist eyes. Mother got up and stood near my dad, silently, motionless. She wanted to be as close to him as possible and perhaps wanted to hug him and hold him firm as if to protect him from a monster, nearing to grab . In fact, they too wanted to hear,’Karuna chaivan’ as Pattar aspired for.
That song in Anandhabairavi, is a soul-stirring appeal to Sree Krishnan of Guruvayoor, “You shower your mercy on all, who seeks refuge in your lotus feet. Then, why this delay, only in my case ?”
Athai who was aware of the family history of all those assembled there, signaled her niece Ratnam, to sing.
Like a house- wife entering the pooja room, after morning bath, with a saffron dot on her forehead and a bright brass lamp in her hand, the dawn entered the garden with a golden bowl in her hand. The rising sun, cold breeze, chirping and cooing birds and blossoming flowers provided an ideal ambiance for the devotional melody. It flew cooling, comforting, purifying every heart .Almost everyone assembled there longed for the mercy of the Lord.
A few of course, longed for the morning coffee and wondered why the service was delayed.
The melody filled the air. When Ratnam sang the padam, ‘marakada manivrnan’, it reached its crescendo and the trembling hands of Chamipattar, tried in vain, to reach those of Sharada teacher. His sobbing suddenly ceased, he became still as in a photo for a few minutes and suddenly collapsed. Like a dry palm tree, devoid of leaves, fruits and flowers, when pattar lay motionless on the garden floor, Sharada teacher, who was standing close by, moved towards him and Ammu, rushed and sat near them.
” Move away, all of you, please” Athai shouted instantaneously and turning towards Teacher, commanded with an air of authority and finality,
“Sharade! Console him. Give him what you could not so far, during your journey, at least now, when he is approaching the end of his road”. Without waiting for anyone’s reaction, she called her brother P.M.S and ordered, ” Konthai , call Dr.Variar. He should be here in ten minutes. And be prepared for any eventuality.” Then, she turned towards Ammu and said, “take care of your father”
I was shell-shocked. I couldn’t stand the speed with which the events took place and importance of the message it conveyed.
Extra marital relationship between the insipid, introvert, irritating, irrational Chamipattar and the cultured, refined and majestic Sharada teacher? And Ammu, their daughter? I couldn’t believe, but truth doesn’t care for recognition.
The doctor arrived and examined Pattar, solicited answers for a few questions from the family members and remarked, “seems ,nothing but a mental breakdown and there is no need to shift him to the hospital now. But keep a watch. Let the wedding function be over”
Now, Athai turned her attention towards Chamipattar’s legal wife and consoled her, “Baghyam, treat Sharada as your elder sister and give her due respect and a lot of love. Chami couldn’t give her either; Don’t ill-treat your husband too. He had little role in the events, which ruined the life of everyone in the family. Let him rest; we will discuss the rest, after the wedding”
Baghyam mami sobbed. It was difficult to make out whether the reason for that was her husband’s illness or his just revealed illicit relationship with another woman.
The wiser women just cooed ‘oh,’ to say, “ these are not uncommon with men “
For men, it was not a topic for discussion at all- because they were all gentlemen!.
Thus ended, eventfully, my first night at T’puram and simultaneously commenced the most important day of my life.
Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 11
“Sleep like a child ” said my dad to Sharada teacher.
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f4/A_Child_Sleeping.jpg/300px-A_Child_Sleeping.jpg
”Continue,” teacher said, without opening her eyes. I continued reciting a few more slokams, but mind got fully immersed with their poetic beauty and it was my turn to close the eyes.
Many time it happens . Undergoing hundred problems, climbing the steep steps, waiting in the que for hours together, tolerating kicks, pushes and shouts you reach the sanctum of your favorite God and exactly at that time deeparadhanai takes place. When you can see the Lord in all His glory, though for half a minute, you close your eyes, and stand still like a lamp post. I go to Guruvayoor with a dozen complaints . I want to weep, scold and bombard the kid of Ambadi for His neglecting me. But when I reach him , eyes swells, throat chokes and I am unable even to say, ‘ente Krishna’, my God ! That was exactly what happened to Kuchel Sarmaji when he met his classmate, Dwarakadeesh..
When I opened my eyes, I saw shocked to see my father sitting near Sharada teacher. Contrary to my expectation, he didn’t raise his right hand towards the entrance of the house, and sound ’oom’, directing me to go inside. She was murmuring something to teacher probably to soothe her grief. She didn’t respond to him.
“Where are they going monae (my child ) in such a great hurry?” teacher enquired in a shy voice, partially opening her eyes, as if she was still under a trance, viewing the silvery clouds moving past the moon.
“perhaps, to meet their mother or lover” I replied.
There was complete silence for a long time and I could realise that teacher’s mind was turning more and more turbulent.
” Why don’t you sing an ashtapadi, ammey ( mom ) ?” I suggested, “there is no better medicine to relieve inner turbulence and rejuvenate your sagging spirit, than that lovely song”. Yes, that unknown woman had drawn me so close to her, that unknowingly I called her mom. “Ya Devi sarvabootheshu matru roopena samsthitha”—yes, that Devi had come in the form of the Sharada teacher, I guessed.
“I would love to sing” she replied, but there is no space in my heart now, even for that Perennial flow of Love. And I don’t want my Lord to wait outside. You sing “
I tried to sing, but words were getting blocked within.
“After some time” I said.
She understood. “Thank you for sharing my grief” she said. Without knowing what it was, I looked at her eyes and hestatingly asked, ” where is your husband, mom?“
”Very close to me, but very far.” Her eyes were turning moist.
My father, consoled her, and suggested, “Sharade! get inside and sleep like a child”
Like a little child, she obeyed him and went inside the house.
I too returned to room. The ocean inside me was roaring and in that turbulence, Chami pattar’s snoring was hardly audible. I didn’t dislike him now, after I heard from dad that he was carrying in his mind an Indian ocean and his bursts and blows seen outside are nothing but the overflow of the inner turbulence.. We often judge people from their external appearance, behavior and fail in our judgement.
”What is my dad’s relationship with Sharada teacher? What was the meaning of her words “very close and very far?” Why was my dad so concerned about her, as to come out and share her solitary sadness? Right from the moment I came to this place, she was showering unexplained affection on me. why?
The incidents of the evening invaded me again. I had asked my cousin, ” Parasu, who is that charismatic lady with aristocratic appearance, long eyes full of compassion, little make up and liberal hairs, who followed me like a faithful servant, watched my movements and cautioned me like an alert mother and gave me bath like a devoted wife ? She can’t be our relative as she is not a brahmin. If she is a only a friend of this family why should she shower so much affection on me ? What is her relationship with me? “
Parasu, just smiled, pushed a handful of betel leaves into his mouth and moved away. My anxiety increased.
Krishnaiyer was sitting alone in a corner of the hall , his mouth also bloated with betel leaf mix. Unable to open it, he signaled to take a seat near him. The moment I sat down, he got up as if in protest and moved towards the gate. The purpose, I realized later, was to spit the paste out his mouth. Had he said, ‘excuse me’ I wouldn’t have misunderstood him. But such formalities were unknown to the elders those days.
” Amman, can I ask you something ” I muttered moving closer to him. He moved his hand to tell that I could go ahead. You must watch the hand movement of the elders of yesterday. Move the right palm up twice, as a child plays with a small ball,means ‘go ahead’ or ‘he has left’. If that action is followed by raising eyes towards the roof, ‘ he passed away’ . If that palm moves sideways twice, it means ‘no way’ . If it stands straight combined with a slight movement of eye lids, the meaning is ‘wait for a moment ‘ and if the palm pushes air down, the meaning is, sit down.
The hand signals would have been the origin of our dance forms.
” For the heaven’s sake my dear Amman, tell me who is that Malayalee woman ?” I pleaded, ” now that your moth is free, I am sure that you will answer my query”
” Ask Ramswamy, your uncle ” he replied and as to avoid further prodding, he got up, pushed his umbrella under his arm and moved away. The seed of doubt was growing in my mind like a poisons tree. I rushed into the kitchen, dragged my uncle to a corner and thundered,” who is that Malayalee woman to you ?”
” You didn’t have your coffee ?” He laughed away my anger and replied in a cool voice, “She lives close to this house”
” I know where she lives ” I continued in the same pitch. What I wanted to know is, is she related to us and if so how. I want an answer and not your coffee.”
“She is close to all of us and closer to one among us.”
” Who is that one among us ?”
Uncle lost his cool. Collecting his upper cloth and forcefully striking it in the air, he shouted, ” Have you come here for doing CID job or to marry ?”
Lalitha appeared from no where .’‘ What is happening here Mama ?”
Many time it happens . Undergoing hundred problems, climbing the steep steps, waiting in the que for hours together, tolerating kicks, pushes and shouts you reach the sanctum of your favorite God and exactly at that time deeparadhanai takes place. When you can see the Lord in all His glory, though for half a minute, you close your eyes, and stand still like a lamp post. I go to Guruvayoor with a dozen complaints . I want to weep, scold and bombard the kid of Ambadi for His neglecting me. But when I reach him , eyes swells, throat chokes and I am unable even to say, ‘ente Krishna’, my God ! That was exactly what happened to Kuchel Sarmaji when he met his classmate, Dwarakadeesh..
When I opened my eyes, I saw shocked to see my father sitting near Sharada teacher. Contrary to my expectation, he didn’t raise his right hand towards the entrance of the house, and sound ’oom’, directing me to go inside. She was murmuring something to teacher probably to soothe her grief. She didn’t respond to him.
“Where are they going monae (my child ) in such a great hurry?” teacher enquired in a shy voice, partially opening her eyes, as if she was still under a trance, viewing the silvery clouds moving past the moon.
“perhaps, to meet their mother or lover” I replied.
There was complete silence for a long time and I could realise that teacher’s mind was turning more and more turbulent.
” Why don’t you sing an ashtapadi, ammey ( mom ) ?” I suggested, “there is no better medicine to relieve inner turbulence and rejuvenate your sagging spirit, than that lovely song”. Yes, that unknown woman had drawn me so close to her, that unknowingly I called her mom. “Ya Devi sarvabootheshu matru roopena samsthitha”—yes, that Devi had come in the form of the Sharada teacher, I guessed.
“I would love to sing” she replied, but there is no space in my heart now, even for that Perennial flow of Love. And I don’t want my Lord to wait outside. You sing “
I tried to sing, but words were getting blocked within.
“After some time” I said.
She understood. “Thank you for sharing my grief” she said. Without knowing what it was, I looked at her eyes and hestatingly asked, ” where is your husband, mom?“
”Very close to me, but very far.” Her eyes were turning moist.
My father, consoled her, and suggested, “Sharade! get inside and sleep like a child”
Like a little child, she obeyed him and went inside the house.
I too returned to room. The ocean inside me was roaring and in that turbulence, Chami pattar’s snoring was hardly audible. I didn’t dislike him now, after I heard from dad that he was carrying in his mind an Indian ocean and his bursts and blows seen outside are nothing but the overflow of the inner turbulence.. We often judge people from their external appearance, behavior and fail in our judgement.
”What is my dad’s relationship with Sharada teacher? What was the meaning of her words “very close and very far?” Why was my dad so concerned about her, as to come out and share her solitary sadness? Right from the moment I came to this place, she was showering unexplained affection on me. why?
The incidents of the evening invaded me again. I had asked my cousin, ” Parasu, who is that charismatic lady with aristocratic appearance, long eyes full of compassion, little make up and liberal hairs, who followed me like a faithful servant, watched my movements and cautioned me like an alert mother and gave me bath like a devoted wife ? She can’t be our relative as she is not a brahmin. If she is a only a friend of this family why should she shower so much affection on me ? What is her relationship with me? “
Parasu, just smiled, pushed a handful of betel leaves into his mouth and moved away. My anxiety increased.
Krishnaiyer was sitting alone in a corner of the hall , his mouth also bloated with betel leaf mix. Unable to open it, he signaled to take a seat near him. The moment I sat down, he got up as if in protest and moved towards the gate. The purpose, I realized later, was to spit the paste out his mouth. Had he said, ‘excuse me’ I wouldn’t have misunderstood him. But such formalities were unknown to the elders those days.
” Amman, can I ask you something ” I muttered moving closer to him. He moved his hand to tell that I could go ahead. You must watch the hand movement of the elders of yesterday. Move the right palm up twice, as a child plays with a small ball,means ‘go ahead’ or ‘he has left’. If that action is followed by raising eyes towards the roof, ‘ he passed away’ . If that palm moves sideways twice, it means ‘no way’ . If it stands straight combined with a slight movement of eye lids, the meaning is ‘wait for a moment ‘ and if the palm pushes air down, the meaning is, sit down.
The hand signals would have been the origin of our dance forms.
” For the heaven’s sake my dear Amman, tell me who is that Malayalee woman ?” I pleaded, ” now that your moth is free, I am sure that you will answer my query”
” Ask Ramswamy, your uncle ” he replied and as to avoid further prodding, he got up, pushed his umbrella under his arm and moved away. The seed of doubt was growing in my mind like a poisons tree. I rushed into the kitchen, dragged my uncle to a corner and thundered,” who is that Malayalee woman to you ?”
” You didn’t have your coffee ?” He laughed away my anger and replied in a cool voice, “She lives close to this house”
” I know where she lives ” I continued in the same pitch. What I wanted to know is, is she related to us and if so how. I want an answer and not your coffee.”
“She is close to all of us and closer to one among us.”
” Who is that one among us ?”
Uncle lost his cool. Collecting his upper cloth and forcefully striking it in the air, he shouted, ” Have you come here for doing CID job or to marry ?”
Lalitha appeared from no where .’‘ What is happening here Mama ?”
“Nothing much my child ” Uncle pacified, “this nephew of mine is pitying the boy who will land here one day to marry you ” Some people suddenly regain their normalcy, even without the hissing sound a hot iron pan makes while dipped in a cold water tub.
” Athimbar ! ” Lalitha screamed and held uncle’s shoulders and shook them in anger.
” Why are you angry with me, my dear ? ” Uncle admonished her, ” he said something to irritate you but you attack me allowing him to enjoy the fun ?”
Lalitha turned towards me. “This is very unfair Athimbar, moving around in a suspicious manner at wee hours in your guest’s house and do some silly investigation “
“Your unwanted strong reaction is weakening you and brightening the image of your sister, Lalitha ” I admonished her and added, ” for your information, I am not a guest here. You will be one when I become the owner of this house in a few hours.”
” Sorry for that, Athimbar”, she tried to pacify me but suddenly raised her hood, “but please remember, my sister is not a planet to shine on borrowed light. She is a star”
Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 10
A human form was there under a chenkathali vazha, a type of plantain.!
” I could learn many things about you in two hours, Appu chetta ” Ammu boasted, unconcealed happiness flashing as a benign smile on her face, while entering the gate of our house.
” You didn’t say a word about your parents though you talked a lot ” I chuckled, ” you are an expert in talking for hours, without saying anything”
” All girls are like that except Ratnam chetchi ” Ammu continued without allowing her smile to fade, ” she manages to say, what she wants to, by her silence. My parents are here and I will introduce them tomorrow.”
” I will introduce them ” Lalitha who came out of her room hearing our voice, intervened. ”No need Lalitha” Appa, who too came out asked her to go back to sleep and then sent Ammu too o to her room. Looking at me and pointing to wards a side room, he hummed, “oom’ . That sound was to reveal his disagreement for taking Ammu out, at the wrong hours.
The snoring of Chami pattar welcomed me when I entered the bed room allotted to me. A bad room mate no doubt. His AADS-automatic air dispelling system was extremely efficient His snoring was elaborate and thunderous, thought rhythmic at times. His yawning voluminous, vociferous and volatile.
I leave to your imagination the efficiency of the third AADS !
Sleep evaded me.The sweet memory of my sojourn at Trichur was humming in my mind, in contrast to the noise in the room.The sharodies lived a simple but rich life.They had little assets but each member of their family was an asset to others and the family as a whole was an asset to the society they lived in. They knew little science and commerce but their common sense was admirable . I never felt that I was away from my own home while I was in the sharam. Sitting before the nilavailakku ( ornamental brass lamp ) they used to recite ‘Adyathmaramayanam’ or Harinamakeerthanams ( devotional compositions in Malayalam language,at dusk, and I used to join them in their prayers, despite Ammau’s mischief and deviation tactics.
I could neither sleep nor even stay in that room. I came out and scanned the surrounding, to ensure that my father had gone to sleep. Lalitha also had gone to sleep. I wished she hadn’t. She enjoyed my pranks, though outwardly she showed dislike for them. I have some readers like her. They contest every word of mine, but will quote volumes of what I said .Some couple are also like that. When together, they behave like ‘pampu and keeri ‘ snake and mongoose and if she goes to he her mother’s house for a day, the telephone bill for that one day? Oh, how funny and complicated is the pairing problem ! I know one couple. The wife was a symbol of compassion, elegance, friendly submissive and sweet talking. Nothing much to say about her looks. She was short, stout and dark-skinned.
Her husband was a charming six-footer, fair complexioned but arrogant and authoritative and abusive in his expression to every one especially to his wife. He was an efficient police constable, fit only for that job,.Mostly he used to be on patrol duty but whenever he came home, he quarreled with his wife. But, soon after the Amavasya night, the moon has to rise. It did rise in the womb of that good woman .
Some elderly women were drawing ‘kolam’ and the cooks, under the supervision of my uncle, were boiling water and cutting vegetable. It was a pournami, full moon night. I could not ask for more. My aspiration to enjoy every drop of nectar falling from the divine sky, fully brightened by moon and stars was uncontrollable. Ah what a feast is going on in the great hall of heaven. Like a squirrel, hiding behind a tree, I am here in the corner of a house, when a glamorous festival procession is moving in the sky! Let my dad scold me or do whatever he wants to . Gathering courage, I came to the garden. It was full of plantain and mango trees . A human form was there under a chenkathali vazha, a type of plantain.! It took some time for me to know who that was.
It was Sharada teacher! Her white sari, white hairs and fair complexion stood in the way of my instant recognition, under the expansive moon light. Teacher, all alone, at this hour ! She was sitting in meditation, closing her eyes, completely unaware of the surroundings . I went near her, sat close and recited Kalidasa’s famous stanza from Kumarasambhavam, describing Siva’s penance under the Devadaru.The Lord was sitting absolutely motionless with complete control of ‘pranas’, vital breaths, not allowing them to move in any direction, upwards, downwards or sideways.
‘Avrishti samrembha-mivambhu vaham,
Apamivadhara manutharangam,
Anthacharanam marudam nirodah-
Nnivatha nishkkambha mivapradeepam”
This is one of the six slokams in ‘Kumarasambhavam’ where the great master describes Siva, in great meditation, to a cloud full of water but not in a hurry to shed rains, a sea, devoid of waves and a non flickering lamp in an-air free space.
That last line, ‘Nivatha,nishkampa miva pradeepam’ will be on the lips of every Sanskrit lover!
If your sweet other half is a lover of Kalidasa, you would have heard this sweet line from her sweet tongue every time you sit immersed in your news paper when she struggles to get the children ready for school, in the busy morning hours.!
Apamivadhara manutharangam,
Anthacharanam marudam nirodah-
Nnivatha nishkkambha mivapradeepam”
This is one of the six slokams in ‘Kumarasambhavam’ where the great master describes Siva, in great meditation, to a cloud full of water but not in a hurry to shed rains, a sea, devoid of waves and a non flickering lamp in an-air free space.
That last line, ‘Nivatha,nishkampa miva pradeepam’ will be on the lips of every Sanskrit lover!
If your sweet other half is a lover of Kalidasa, you would have heard this sweet line from her sweet tongue every time you sit immersed in your news paper when she struggles to get the children ready for school, in the busy morning hours.!
My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 11
” Oh, no. I never wanted you to break away from your family ” the bride’s mother assured Muthamma” the children will anyway, live separately and we will not be visiting sambandhies every alternate day , but at the most, once or twice a year . We will eat and come, then or eat in a hotel”
‘Get up, every one,” Raju commanded, if I stay for a minute more here, it will be bad for that woman.”
Surprisingly, the most important person in the meeting, Gowthami came forward and requested all of us to be seated.
”I apologize for my mother’s utterance unacceptable to any one, all the more, me ” She pleaded with folded hands. ” If my mother or any one from our family doesn’t want to visit or eat in your house, they are welcome to do so but I will not allow the disintegration of that closely knit bird’s nest. If my father were alive, he would not have allowed mother to behave the way she did . If you are satisfied with this assurance, you may proceed. I will be happy to become the daughter-in-law of your house.”
All of us were impressed by her matured talk but Amma wanted time to think over the issue. ”Thanks a lot Gowthami. We will come back shortly.
“On reaching home, Muthamma made a strong plea to allow her to live separately in a nearby house. Every one unanimously opposed. But she was firm . After a prolonged discussion, a compromise was reached. Muhamma and me would be shifting to the first floor of the same house.
Raju- Gowthami wedding went on well and they both left for USA. The irony of the destiny was that for Gowthami’s delivery of her first baby it was Muthamma who had to go to USA for help and not her mother or mother -in-law.
” Our way of living here will upset my mother and she will be like a fish out of water here ” said Gowthami,.” I don’t want Raju’s mother too here, as her absence will upset the household there ”
” We are shortly to land in the Heathrew airport from where I will be taking leave of you.
” BB was in a hurry to complete her life history, ” so let me be concise”
“When I went to UK for higher studies, the immigration officer at the Heathrew airport, while scrutinizing my papers, looked into my eyes carefully, looked at the address page of the passport and looked at me again. “Could you please wait for a while ?” he requested, ” I would like to talk for a minute ”
He did not appear to be very emotional as I was, when he revealed that he was none other than my own father. ” How is mom ?” he inquired, ” I will meet you in your apartment; I have noted down the address ”
He came to meet me with his wife and two children and we met often. I used to spend some week- ends in his house or he and his family with me . All those were fine. But I never had that emotional attachment with my biological father, as I had with my foster father or foster mother”
“I will try to get you some Indian food from my friend’s house, close by,”
BB said after leaving us at the Gate of departure of our flight to USA and returned with a few packets of the food we cherish most in a foreign country-‘thayir saadam!’
That was so delicious that my memory box opened automatically and a shining jewel fell out of it- P.B. Shelly’s ‘The Cloud ‘
BB and me sang in chores a few stanzas from that immortal poem. A few co-passengers also joined us and Ammalu and Parasu too, when we started dancing ::
“I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night ’tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains”.
“Take care of him ” BB requested Ammalu, affectionately combing my hair while taking leave of us, ”he is still a child in mind”
“And a monster in behavior,” Parasu joked.
“You didn’t tell us about your mother’s reaction when she heard of your meeting with your father?” Ammalu asked BB, while she was about to leave. ” And did she come to meet him in London ? ”
”Muthamma had become more or less like a sanyasini, especially after my Appa’s and then my Amma’s death” . The ever jubilant BB became gloomy , for the first time. ”She never moved out of her house except once, during her advanced age. That was to go back to the hut where she was born, where her mother and other ancestors were born lived and died , where she brought me to this world.
Her sojourn there was too short. You can even say that she went there only to die and she died there-in that small bamboo hut, which she refused to part with, even for joining her husband ”
.
‘Get up, every one,” Raju commanded, if I stay for a minute more here, it will be bad for that woman.”
Surprisingly, the most important person in the meeting, Gowthami came forward and requested all of us to be seated.
”I apologize for my mother’s utterance unacceptable to any one, all the more, me ” She pleaded with folded hands. ” If my mother or any one from our family doesn’t want to visit or eat in your house, they are welcome to do so but I will not allow the disintegration of that closely knit bird’s nest. If my father were alive, he would not have allowed mother to behave the way she did . If you are satisfied with this assurance, you may proceed. I will be happy to become the daughter-in-law of your house.”
All of us were impressed by her matured talk but Amma wanted time to think over the issue. ”Thanks a lot Gowthami. We will come back shortly.
“On reaching home, Muthamma made a strong plea to allow her to live separately in a nearby house. Every one unanimously opposed. But she was firm . After a prolonged discussion, a compromise was reached. Muhamma and me would be shifting to the first floor of the same house.
Raju- Gowthami wedding went on well and they both left for USA. The irony of the destiny was that for Gowthami’s delivery of her first baby it was Muthamma who had to go to USA for help and not her mother or mother -in-law.
” Our way of living here will upset my mother and she will be like a fish out of water here ” said Gowthami,.” I don’t want Raju’s mother too here, as her absence will upset the household there ”
” We are shortly to land in the Heathrew airport from where I will be taking leave of you.
” BB was in a hurry to complete her life history, ” so let me be concise”
“When I went to UK for higher studies, the immigration officer at the Heathrew airport, while scrutinizing my papers, looked into my eyes carefully, looked at the address page of the passport and looked at me again. “Could you please wait for a while ?” he requested, ” I would like to talk for a minute ”
He did not appear to be very emotional as I was, when he revealed that he was none other than my own father. ” How is mom ?” he inquired, ” I will meet you in your apartment; I have noted down the address ”
He came to meet me with his wife and two children and we met often. I used to spend some week- ends in his house or he and his family with me . All those were fine. But I never had that emotional attachment with my biological father, as I had with my foster father or foster mother”
“I will try to get you some Indian food from my friend’s house, close by,”
BB said after leaving us at the Gate of departure of our flight to USA and returned with a few packets of the food we cherish most in a foreign country-‘thayir saadam!’
That was so delicious that my memory box opened automatically and a shining jewel fell out of it- P.B. Shelly’s ‘The Cloud ‘
BB and me sang in chores a few stanzas from that immortal poem. A few co-passengers also joined us and Ammalu and Parasu too, when we started dancing ::
“I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers,
From the seas and the streams;
I bear light shade for the leaves when laid
In their noonday dreams.
From my wings are shaken the dews that waken
The sweet buds every one,
When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast,
As she dances about the sun.
I wield the flail of the lashing hail,
And whiten the green plains under,
And then again I dissolve it in rain,
And laugh as I pass in thunder.
I sift the snow on the mountains below,
And their great pines groan aghast;
And all the night ’tis my pillow white,
While I sleep in the arms of the blast.
Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers,
Lightning, my pilot, sits;
In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,
It struggles and howls at fits;
Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,
This pilot is guiding me,
Lured by the love of the genii that move
In the depths of the purple sea;
Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,
Over the lakes and the plains,
Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,
The Spirit he loves remains;
And I all the while bask in Heaven’s blue smile,
Whilst he is dissolving in rains”.
“Take care of him ” BB requested Ammalu, affectionately combing my hair while taking leave of us, ”he is still a child in mind”
“And a monster in behavior,” Parasu joked.
“You didn’t tell us about your mother’s reaction when she heard of your meeting with your father?” Ammalu asked BB, while she was about to leave. ” And did she come to meet him in London ? ”
”Muthamma had become more or less like a sanyasini, especially after my Appa’s and then my Amma’s death” . The ever jubilant BB became gloomy , for the first time. ”She never moved out of her house except once, during her advanced age. That was to go back to the hut where she was born, where her mother and other ancestors were born lived and died , where she brought me to this world.
Her sojourn there was too short. You can even say that she went there only to die and she died there-in that small bamboo hut, which she refused to part with, even for joining her husband ”
.
My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 10
I became like a child in a dreamless slumber. Don’t remember how long I remained like that.
“What happened to him, madam, any help ?” inquired Pushpa.
“Don’t worry Pushpa,” consoled Ammalu. “20 % effect of intoxication and 80% drama. Anyway, get some black tea with no sugar, please”
“Look through the window and tell me what you see outside?” Said BB, ” that will help me to decide whether Ammamu madam’s assessment is accurate or not”
“Meadows and mountains have vanished BB,” I told her, ”even floating clouds have gone. I see nothing but a vast expanse of space, ‘bahiraakasham’
“Meadows, mountains, mannankanti ” Ammalu expressed her exasperation, ‘chandeelai rentu killu kudukkanum- he deserves nothing but pinches at his back ”
”Fine, that is a good progress,” BB encouraged me, ” your panchapatram has slipped form your hand, you have forgotten your mantras and as a tortoise withdraws its head within, you are pulling that ‘bahirakasam’ towards your inner self, towards your ‘hridayaksam’. Is isn’t so ?”
” Parasu, intha rintulae ethukkuda baadhai jasthi ? Of these two, which one is more influenced by alcohol ?” Ammalu asked my cousin.
“Both are in the same boat, manni, ” he replied.
“So, they are in sea, not in air?” Asked Ammalu with a twinkle.
” Sa ya eshonthar hridaya aakasa: Thasminnayam Purusho manomaya : Amritho hiranmaya:
In the stillness and silence of my inner space, shines a dazzling brilliance, to describe I have no words ”
That jewel from the Thithiriyopanishad brightens my mind whenever it becomes cloudy.
“Are you sorry now that you could not perform your sandhya or Gayatri ?,” enquired BB.
”No”
“Are you sorry now for all the troubles you gave to your wife, all these years as a disobedient husband . Are you prepared to apologize to Ammalu?” That was Ammalu’s jocular query.
” Ammalu- who is that Indian elephant and Chinese dragon?’
”He has fully recovered !” Ammalu sighed and told BB, “Let us give him some food “‘
“Chukku vellam ” I demanded. ‘Plainiae okkanthu, kallaem kutichuttu, chella petty, chukkuvellam nnu ellam kettal, nan enke poavaen, Parsu- from where will I get him betel casket and spiced warm water ?’ Ammalu asked Parasu.
”Don’t worry, Manni, I have both” He consoled her.
Parasu’s chukku vellam, medicated warm water, brought back my brain almost to its normal state.
“BB, story please” I demanded.
” Eat first ” Ammalu commanded.
BB continued her life story, after I had some food.
“Two decades rolled on after we became an inseparable part of Appa’s family. Amma used to say, ‘ we should be like ‘mor’ buttermilk and ‘neer’, water and never be like ‘mor’ and ‘milakai’ chilli ”
”But chilli adds flavour, ma ,’ I used to argue. ”yes, it does, but you remove it before drinking the liquid. I do not want anyone to be separated from this group ”
But that separation did happen; unavoidably, unexpectedly.
Appa selected a girl for Raja anna . The horoscopes were agreeable, the family background of the girl was verified and found good. What was left was a meeting between the two families and the boy and the girl. We all went to the girl’s village, were received well. While the discussion was going on, the girl’s mother asked Appa, who Muthamma was.
”She is like a member of our family, though not blood related” Appa replied..
”Just out of curiosity, I asked that is all,” said the host and continued, ” I just wanted to know your relationship with her”
”She is like a daughter to me,” Appa replied.
”Will she continue to live with you even after our children’s’ wedding?,” was the next question ” just out of curiosity, I asked that is all”
Appa lost his temper. “She will live with us till our last days, if that is what you wants to know”
Amma tried to get up but Muthamma asked her to be seated and turning towards Raju and Gowthami, that was the girl’s name, asked,” you like each other ?”
They both said ‘yes’. ‘Then go ahead with the arrangement’ Muthamma told the girl’s mother. ”I will not stand in your way”
Appa and Amma were furious. They were not prepared to severe Muthamma from their family, come what may. Raju also supported them fully.
But Muthamma was firm. She told ”Appa, if not today, tomorrow this problem will arise. Now children are growing up. One by one, we have to get them married. New relationships will open up. A tribal woman in an orthodox Brahmin family kitchen is not something acceptable to many. I will stay in another house close to you. Easwary , after her education and marriage will anyway be separated. Till my last breath, I will serve you, whether I live with you under the same roof or in your cowshed or in your neighbor hood .
To forget the hand which fed me is to forget the womb which housed me ”
To continue
Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 09
Too big a load to carry
My thoughts went back. Soon after I left the college completing my studies, I got an assignment in a WHO project at Trichur and Dr.Vaidynatha iyer, my relative, asked his friend Sharodi, to accommodate me in his house, as a tenant. ‘Sharodies’ basically are ‘ambalavasies’ , serving the Kerala temples. My posting at Trichur was only for six months but that short period was one of the happiest in my life. We were a small team of physicians, social workers in specialized fields and Lab.technicians and our task was to visit the peripheral villages before the residents go for work, study their physical condition, collect blood, urine or fecal samples, collect family statistics, treat them for minor ailments or take them to the city hospital for treatment, if necessary. I had to get ready by 6.30 when the Jeep comes to pick me up. The Muthi, the granny of the sharam, used to wake me up by about 5.0 in the morning: ‘Smaikkutty, Samikkutty, eneekku, panikkukku pokandae’ get up, my child, you have to go for work’ She had placed a photo of Guruvayoorappn and would take me towards it and ask me to look at the God first. Then she would hand over a packet of umikkari ( home made tooth powder made out of burnt paddy husk mixed with some herbal ingredients ) along with a kindi ( a brass vessel with a long nose filled with water and an earkala ( thin rib of the leaf of the coconut tree ) for cleaning the tongue. She would then give me a hot cup of tea, hand over my thorthumundu (bath towel ), soap box and a small pack of vibhoothi (holy ash to apply on the forehead etc after bath ) and escort me to the nearby pond, vadakkae chira and wait on the steps still I finish my bath and go to the temples. I used to visit every morning three main temples in the town and those visits, walk around the ‘Thekkinkadu’ central plateau, after a cold water bath used to inject tons of freshness into the system. Lovely maidens, in snow white dress used to visit tbe temples, early morning every day , although that alone was not the cause of my happiness. This is just a casual remark. The Malayalee women of Trichur have a divine aura around them! This also is a casual remark. But believe me for an youngster, moving out of home for the first time, leaving behind the petting of affectionate parents and padding of siblings, there could not be a better platform than the sharam life, for take off. I became nostalgic and Ammu too, when she whispered at my ear asking me to go for a jogging, soon after we finished enjoying the night feast. Like me, she too felt, the crowded marriage ambiance unfit for our celebration of a much-awaited union. I could guess that the memory of the evenings we spent together at the vast thekkin kadu ground, around the temple was blooming in her mind. I used to carry her on my shoulders though she preferred to walk, to establish her freedom, move around , fall twenty times and cry loudly every time she falls.“Appa, we will just go for a walk around the town ” I pleaded for my father’s permission.” In this late hour ? ” he admonished, “you have to get up before sunrise tomorrow” “Atchaa, please; anju nimisham, five minutes ” Ammu too pleaded and obtained Appa’s permission . Every one looked at us with widened eyes. It was, however as usual, given to Lalitha to express the disapproval of the family to our innocent action.“Again the vedalam has climbed upon the tree,” Lalitha mumbled initially and later, asked her sister in a louder tone. ” how, you a relaxing star, are you going to spend your life with this restless sea? Akka, I am warning you, you are going to carry too big a load on your tiny head ”Ratnam just smiled.‘Athai, will you please put this Lalitha genie inside your pepper- powder bottle and close it firmly?” I asked athai, “and don’t release her till I return to Palakkad.”
“How do you manage to convert every opportunity into a problem, whereas my sister carves an opportunity out of every problem,” Lalitha got up from her chair and asked me.“It is just eight hours since you have landed here, but every minute, you create a new problem, that too with the speed of light.”
“You, yourself are a problem for me, Lalitha!” I replied in a soft voice ” And your main problem is that you are meeting an intelligent man for the first time in your lifetime”
“ You are meeting an intelligent woman for the first time ” She chided, “Your abysmally low IQ level was perhaps the only attraction for my sister. For that matter, every girl wants the boy she chooses, one step below her in all respects, of course except in financial status. No sensible girl would like to marry an intelligent man. He will neither live his life nor allow his wife to live hers. For me also that was the attraction in you. Otherwise, when you proposed to me, near the well…..”
Before she could complete the sentence, every one enquired, ”tell us what he proposed?”
“What will he propose ?” Her sister intervened to rescue me again, “he proposed a literary debate and Lalitha readily agreed. Both are good in literature”
I looked at Ammu and winked, as if to tell her, ”look, how she saved me!” This, along with her sister’s support to me enraged Lalitha. She changed her strategy. Addressing none in particular, she said,” that sweet little one, Ammu is going without eating payasam ”
“I will eat after we return ” Ammu said and I added, ” please ask the cook to keep three tumblers filled, on the table, before they go to sleep”
“May I know sir, who is that third person, me?” Lalitha enquired with a mocking humility.
“No way; you will be inside the pepper powder bottle, when we return. Your sister will give us company’
“You expect your bride to wait for you, like a heroin in Tamil serials, when you return after dancing into small hours?”
“Isn’t she a star?” I asked her, “that is what you told me, a while ago”
“You are impossible, athimbar”. She surrendered herself.
Ammu was becoming restless. “Good night, everybody!” I wished and disappeared from there along with Ammu.
We didn’t go far. The ‘thekkin kadu’ would be empty at night and we didn’t want to go there. We sat below an adjacent tree and spent an hour or two, recalling our sharam days.
We had much to talk about.
My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 09
Not a single cockroach in Hyderabad
“Your impromptu songs are innovative and infectious,” Big Ben complimented me albeit with a caveat,”though the credit goes to the cocktail of Pushpa”
“Big Ben, why don’t you sing one more song of your tribal days,” Ammalu requested.
She sang the first line of another song:
” Kathukuthi thakkai pottu kuriparpaen ammae
காதுகுத்தி தக்கை போட்டு குறி பார்ப்பேன், அம்மே! ”
“Wait!,” I yelled.” I’m seeing a kurathi holding a basket close to her middle left and a small magic stick in her right hand ready to move it over my palm. She is sitting by my side”Ammalu looked at me amusingly. “What else, do you see, Perias?” Enquired Parasu.
“A khaboolivAla woman, silver ornaments hanging from neck and ears in abundance. During my childhood a number of such nomads used to visit our small town” I looked at BB and continued, “standing on the street corners of Olavakkode they used to sell clothes by auction after the sky and land turned dark, in the light of stick- torches with kerosene fuel. The powerful flames used to project the cheap quality cloth as royal apparel attracting the low- wage earners”
“Do I look like a Kabhooli woman selling cheap clothes in the street corners, for you, Perias?” BB asked with a mock anger.
“The credit goes to———-.” I said and we all had a good laugh.
The cocktail was still working havoc in my brain and Ammlu asked me to sing her favorite lullaby, a four -liner. I was literally in high spirits and sang that moving song, slowly, in a melodious tune:
Siruvanithanniyile sernrndhuvandha sempavizhom,
Sevarkkodiyazhakan thernthedutha senkathali,
Maanagar Mathuraiyela malarnda kaodaimallikappoo,en
Marodu sernthuranghu mazhalimozi marakathamea.
சிருவாணித் தண்ணியிலே சேர்ந்து வந்த செம்பவிழம்,
சேவர்கொடியுடயோன் தேர்ந்தெடுத்த செம்கதளி,
மாநகர் மதுரையிலே மலர்ந்த கோடை மல்லிகைப்பு
என் மாரோடு சேர்ந்துறங்கு மழலை மொழி மரகதமே!
“Fantastic, Perias, what a song!” BB was excited, “I want to see my mother”
Overwhelmed by emotion, she rubbed her eyes. Ammalu tapped her back affectionately.
“This was the only song, I composed in Tamil, but it came up well,” I told BB.
“At times, a single line or a single verse or a subtle smile speak volumes”
“Where am I now, Ammalu, in kasi or Kalpathy ?”
I blabbered.
“In Kishkintha! ” joked Parasu. “You are leading a great army of monkeys towards the ocean.
Now, you are over the mountain ready to fly,” joked Parasu.
“But Parasu, how will he fly?” Ammalu too was in high spirits, though with no spirit inside. “There are no cockroaches in his seat”
“Hey, Parasu uncle, what is that cockroach story,” .BB was anxious to know.
“Shall I tell her what you did on the precious night of your wedding , Anna ?” Parasu threatened to reveal a secret but I was not in a position to say ‘yes’ or no’
“You are sure that the adventure you are going to narrate is about the previous night of his marriage?” BB asked with a naughty smile.
“Of course,” he too laughed and continued, “I took the whole family for a movie at the nearby theater, Where the Ramayanam story was screened. There was a scene of monkeys playing ‘kabadi’ game, which the innovative director had inserted into the epic story.
Kabbadi was his favorite game, which Anna learned in Hyderabad,” Parasu continued. “He was so much involved in the game on the screen that he raised from his seat, bent his arms and folded his palms, fiercely focusing his attention on the screen as if he would be joining the monkey-players any time.
Had I not pulled his hands and made him to sit, he would have jumped to the front, over the heads of those sitting there and made a big scene, much more enjoyable than the one being shown on the screen. Remember, we were not alone. There were elderly men, women and children too from both families.
The bride’s family was shocked ..”Ee kazhuverida mon entha koratchu vattundo, illa avan oru vaanarano ? ” The perplexed chami pattar, Ammalu’s grandfather, abused in his crude native dialect. “Is he an eccentric or a monkey, by birth”
”He is after all, your grand nephew ” commended a mischievous boy in the group, reminding the old man of his relationship with me and surreptitiously his own behavior.
“Am I plunging my daughter into a well?”
The bride’s father expressed his anguish and anxiety, seriously doubting the mental stability of the person who was to become his pet daughter’s husband in a few hour’s time.
“Perhaps, the Anjaneyaswamy’s spirit has occupied his body for a short while ” pacified his pious wife, who had vowed to place a garland with 1001 vadais, Anjaneya’s pet food, on the idol in the temple next to her house.
“Wish that spirit leaves his body before he enters the wedding hall,” commended her husband, krishna Iyer, the prospective father in law.
“And certainly before he enters the nuptial chamber for the first night ” exclaimed an enlightened and experienced elderly woman, Pitchu pAtty.
‘Why didn’t the bride walk-out? How did Ammalu manni agree to marry a cranky fellow like PERIAS ” Commended the ultra -modern- society bee, BB.
“That is the problem with the Indian women,” Parasu continued his narration.
“The fiancee, instead, rescued her husband- in- waiting:
‘the bench on which he is sitting is full of cockroaches. He is allergic to them”
In one stroke, Ammalu manni, dismissed the whole affair as unworthy of mentioning. And added a proverbial line which is still remembered by the whole family.:
“fortunately, there is not a single cockroach in Hyderabad, you see”
Pitchu patty, the old lady who had seen the world, remembered that single line worth a sovereign and bought a matching wedding gift – an insect- sprayer!
While handing over the gift in a glittering wrapper, the grand old lady whispered to the bride, “you can use this appliance to get rid off cockroaches in your bed room here . Dispose it off, however, before you leave for your husband’s place..”Because, there is not a single cockroach in Hyderabad, you see!”
To continue
“Big Ben, why don’t you sing one more song of your tribal days,” Ammalu requested.
She sang the first line of another song:
” Kathukuthi thakkai pottu kuriparpaen ammae
காதுகுத்தி தக்கை போட்டு குறி பார்ப்பேன், அம்மே! ”
“Wait!,” I yelled.” I’m seeing a kurathi holding a basket close to her middle left and a small magic stick in her right hand ready to move it over my palm. She is sitting by my side”Ammalu looked at me amusingly. “What else, do you see, Perias?” Enquired Parasu.
“A khaboolivAla woman, silver ornaments hanging from neck and ears in abundance. During my childhood a number of such nomads used to visit our small town” I looked at BB and continued, “standing on the street corners of Olavakkode they used to sell clothes by auction after the sky and land turned dark, in the light of stick- torches with kerosene fuel. The powerful flames used to project the cheap quality cloth as royal apparel attracting the low- wage earners”
“Do I look like a Kabhooli woman selling cheap clothes in the street corners, for you, Perias?” BB asked with a mock anger.
“The credit goes to———-.” I said and we all had a good laugh.
The cocktail was still working havoc in my brain and Ammlu asked me to sing her favorite lullaby, a four -liner. I was literally in high spirits and sang that moving song, slowly, in a melodious tune:
Siruvanithanniyile sernrndhuvandha sempavizhom,
Sevarkkodiyazhakan thernthedutha senkathali,
Maanagar Mathuraiyela malarnda kaodaimallikappoo,en
Marodu sernthuranghu mazhalimozi marakathamea.
சிருவாணித் தண்ணியிலே சேர்ந்து வந்த செம்பவிழம்,
சேவர்கொடியுடயோன் தேர்ந்தெடுத்த செம்கதளி,
மாநகர் மதுரையிலே மலர்ந்த கோடை மல்லிகைப்பு
என் மாரோடு சேர்ந்துறங்கு மழலை மொழி மரகதமே!
“Fantastic, Perias, what a song!” BB was excited, “I want to see my mother”
Overwhelmed by emotion, she rubbed her eyes. Ammalu tapped her back affectionately.
“This was the only song, I composed in Tamil, but it came up well,” I told BB.
“At times, a single line or a single verse or a subtle smile speak volumes”
“Where am I now, Ammalu, in kasi or Kalpathy ?”
I blabbered.
“In Kishkintha! ” joked Parasu. “You are leading a great army of monkeys towards the ocean.
Now, you are over the mountain ready to fly,” joked Parasu.
“But Parasu, how will he fly?” Ammalu too was in high spirits, though with no spirit inside. “There are no cockroaches in his seat”
“Hey, Parasu uncle, what is that cockroach story,” .BB was anxious to know.
“Shall I tell her what you did on the precious night of your wedding , Anna ?” Parasu threatened to reveal a secret but I was not in a position to say ‘yes’ or no’
“You are sure that the adventure you are going to narrate is about the previous night of his marriage?” BB asked with a naughty smile.
“Of course,” he too laughed and continued, “I took the whole family for a movie at the nearby theater, Where the Ramayanam story was screened. There was a scene of monkeys playing ‘kabadi’ game, which the innovative director had inserted into the epic story.
Kabbadi was his favorite game, which Anna learned in Hyderabad,” Parasu continued. “He was so much involved in the game on the screen that he raised from his seat, bent his arms and folded his palms, fiercely focusing his attention on the screen as if he would be joining the monkey-players any time.
Had I not pulled his hands and made him to sit, he would have jumped to the front, over the heads of those sitting there and made a big scene, much more enjoyable than the one being shown on the screen. Remember, we were not alone. There were elderly men, women and children too from both families.
The bride’s family was shocked ..”Ee kazhuverida mon entha koratchu vattundo, illa avan oru vaanarano ? ” The perplexed chami pattar, Ammalu’s grandfather, abused in his crude native dialect. “Is he an eccentric or a monkey, by birth”
”He is after all, your grand nephew ” commended a mischievous boy in the group, reminding the old man of his relationship with me and surreptitiously his own behavior.
“Am I plunging my daughter into a well?”
The bride’s father expressed his anguish and anxiety, seriously doubting the mental stability of the person who was to become his pet daughter’s husband in a few hour’s time.
“Perhaps, the Anjaneyaswamy’s spirit has occupied his body for a short while ” pacified his pious wife, who had vowed to place a garland with 1001 vadais, Anjaneya’s pet food, on the idol in the temple next to her house.
“Wish that spirit leaves his body before he enters the wedding hall,” commended her husband, krishna Iyer, the prospective father in law.
“And certainly before he enters the nuptial chamber for the first night ” exclaimed an enlightened and experienced elderly woman, Pitchu pAtty.
‘Why didn’t the bride walk-out? How did Ammalu manni agree to marry a cranky fellow like PERIAS ” Commended the ultra -modern- society bee, BB.
“That is the problem with the Indian women,” Parasu continued his narration.
“The fiancee, instead, rescued her husband- in- waiting:
‘the bench on which he is sitting is full of cockroaches. He is allergic to them”
In one stroke, Ammalu manni, dismissed the whole affair as unworthy of mentioning. And added a proverbial line which is still remembered by the whole family.:
“fortunately, there is not a single cockroach in Hyderabad, you see”
Pitchu patty, the old lady who had seen the world, remembered that single line worth a sovereign and bought a matching wedding gift – an insect- sprayer!
While handing over the gift in a glittering wrapper, the grand old lady whispered to the bride, “you can use this appliance to get rid off cockroaches in your bed room here . Dispose it off, however, before you leave for your husband’s place..”Because, there is not a single cockroach in Hyderabad, you see!”
To continue
My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 08
Pakkathu veetilae pattasu
‘Everything has to go back from wherever it came,’ I told B B when she enquired, why I put back the note book into my bag.
‘I collect water in my palm from river or pond and that water is offered back to the original source, while worshipping Sandhya ‘
‘Perias, you collect water from the river or pond and while doing Deva tarpanam, start with Adithyam tharpayAmi, not Varunam tharpayAmi. Why?’
‘As it is Adithya, the main source for water. But, the water which I collect from Varuna goes to Varuna first and from there to Adithya’
Then turning to BB, I read the translation of a hymn from the Rgvedam.
1 ‘O, Vayu, come to us with all the thousand chariots that are thine
Team borne, to drink the soma juice.
2. Drawn by the team, O Vayu, come. To thee is offered this, the pure’
In this Rgveda sooktham, first Vayu, then Indra, Mitra, Varuna, Aswins, Viswadevas, Saraswathy, Heaven and Earth are invoked and invited to accept the soma juice, ‘the pure, blent with milk’.
‘Drink you of this delightful juice’, says the Rishi’
‘What a fantastic imagination!,’ exclaimed BB, ‘Vayu, coming down to earth with thousand chariots! And the chariots are not borrowed. ‘That are thine!’
Thousand chariots dropping from the air! What a scene it would be ! Are they yoked to horses and if so, what about the sound of their hoof! Won’t there be a big hurricane ?
‘Our forebears always thought high, spoke high,’ I told , ‘ do you know that the pressing of Soma was associated with the fertilizing rain, the life- giver and life- nourished? And in the post Vedic classical period, Soma was identified with the Moon, which wanes when soma is drunk by the gods but which is periodically reborn?’
‘Yes, I know soma was associated with the Moon, whose name is also Soma,’ replied BB, ‘ I read somewhere that ‘Soma is part of the ancient, yogic and shamanic usage of sacred plants, including tonics, nervines and mind-altering plants of various types as well special preparations of them. Each group, community or geographical region probably had its own Somas or sacred plants. Soma is a transformative substance that can be found in many plants and has corresponding mind-altering substances that can be produced by the brain itself’
‘I’m anxious to hear BB’s life story,’ Ammalu intervened, ‘ will you please close your note book, Perias?’
Big Ben continued her story:
‘One night, Muthmma was signing a tribal folk song to put us to sleep.
“Onga nattilae penja mazhai,
Enga naatuukku varadho, Kuppeekala?!
ஓங்க நாட்டிலே பேஞ்ச மழே
எங்க நாட்டுக்கு வாராதோ , குப்பீகளா !’
Appa, from his study, joined, adding a funny piece.
‘Enka veettu elikal ellam
Onka veettukku pokatho ? Kuppeekala !’
எங்க வீட்டு எலிகள் எல்லாம்
ஒன்கவீட்டுக்கு போகாதோ , குப்பீகளா ‘
Ammalu enjoyed the song and thanks to the activation of my poetic nerves by alcohol , I too added an instant composition :
Renkasaami enkae, pullae?’
Rentu nala aalae illae.
Pakkathu paayi kaliyachu,
Rakkamma nencham pattasu, Kuppeekala’
ரங்கசாமி எங்கேபுள்ளே ?.
ரெண்டுநாளா ஆளே இல்லே
பக்கத்து பாயி காலியாச்சு
ராக்கம்மா நெஞ்சம் பட்டாசு , குப்பீகளா—
Pathumassam poyatchu,
Pakkathu veetilae pattasu,
Ranksami rentayi,
santai than po kuppayi, Kuppeekala
பத்துமாசம் போயாச்சு
பக்கத்து வீட்டுலே பட்டாசு
ரங்கசாமி இரண்டாயி,
சண்டை தான் போ குப்பாயி, குப்பீகளா’
Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 08
The Vadkkumnatha Temple at Trichur
The lavishly decorated Ambassador car in which I was made to sit, for ‘mappilai azappu’, the procession on the wedding eve, got packed within no time by enthusiastic children, encouraged by their parents, leaving hardly any space for me to move my limbs or even breath evenly. Sweating profusely, wrapped in a black suit and semi strangulating neck tie, I would have kicked the kids off the vehicle but a would- be son-in-law was not expected to behave so rudely. ‘Padmanabha!’ I called and sought the help of the presiding deity of the town, who , (God alone knows how) relaxes so enviably on a multi- hooded snake bed, in a wavy ocean, despite being encircled by several celestial celebrities. Padmanabha did hear my cry and His merciful response came in the form an old woman, struggling to join the procession. I leaped out of the vehicle, pushed the old lady it and moved along with the crowd, receiving accolades for my consideration for the aged.
Self-serving acts, at time, snatches awards.
One middle aged woman, clad in starched, bright white sari was walking close to me. “Beware of the cow dung and banana skins, my son,”she warned me with benign smile,” I will arrange for another car ” she offered.I liked her.Don’t know why. some people attract you at the very first meet.
I enjoy walks, but not as the head of a procession, with a garland around the neck, fire works in the front and gas-lamps on the sides apart from a whole lot of curious onlookers, all around.Several people came out of their houses, pushing others to the sides, threw glances at me and withdrew.
The nadsawaram vidwans offered their pipes and encouraged me to play the instrument, “chumma oothunko sami”. I love to handle nadaswaram but a bride -groom was not expected to do that, leading his wedding eve procession!
P.M.S., arranged for another car for the old woman and children, but they refused to get down from the decorated vehicle.
“Ithae porum; ithilae maalai irukkae ” This car is fine; there are garlands around this ” was the excuse of the old lady.
“Nikkada avadea- wait,” PMS detained a mahout, who was leading an elephant, that way.
“Mon chadikko!” come on, son, ascend the animal” he commanded. My parents were worried about my safety, as I had never tried my skill on elephants, though I was an expert in buffalo ride. Many pushed, pushed me up and put on the pachyderm.
The high status, on the elephant, I enjoyed, but not the uneasiness below my seat. I never realized that it was so uncomfortable to sit on the elephant’s back. The fear that the animal under the influence of powerful lights around and the sound generated by fire works could run amok, was also there.
Those who sit on elevated seats might appear to be happy; but that is not the whole truth.
At last, the procession reached the marriage hall. I was helped to get down.. My back was burning as if some one had poured acid.
“Ivadae varu ” come along, commanded that woman who followed me, pulling my hand, took me to the kitchen and asked Athai for some warm water and a towel . “Ratnam, give him a hot massage ” She ordered. Ratnam hesitated and when I was about to call my mother, the Malayalee woman mildly slapped on my face affectionately and said, ” no more Amma, hereafter “. Along with Athai, she applied some balm at my back and gave a nice steam bath. PMS entered the kitchen and seeing my plight surrounded by the elderly women, enquired,”ah, Konthai, Janwasam sukham aayi illae, hope you enjoyed the procession ? ”
“Oh, paramasukham ” I replied , pressing my legs . That was just the beginning of my paramasukham. Much more sukhams were in wait.
After coming out of the kitchen, I asked PMS,” who is that lady, with grey hair, who followed me in the procession and helped Athai to give me a steam bath ?”
“Oh, she is our neighbour, Sharada teacher ” He clarified, “‘a kind woman close to us but pushed far away by the Destiny”
My affection for her, increased. It happens sometimes. An invisible flow takes place within, the moment you see a stranger, about whom you know nothing. The reason will be revealed later.
Those was a formal nitchitarthm, presided by my mother’s uncle who was also a vaadyar and he was strict with regards to the procedures . My back pain was still bothering me. If there was a delay in my getting up from the seat, he would shout, ‘eanthiru’ get up; if I had not bend my body sufficiently while prostrating , he used to yell, ‘porathu’ not enough. When I found his dictation intolerable, I muttered,” if you trouble me like this again I will mount that elephant and return to Hyderabad “
Those assembled in the pandal outside for the music program, came in along with the musicians for dinner.
An young girl approached me from the crowd, pulled my hand and said, ” come for food, you trouble maker!” Though that not the first time I was called a trouble maker, I was hardly prepared to be so addressed in my in-law’s house on the wedding eve by an unknown girl of fifteen or sixteen.
” Oh, sweet little one ” I addressed her with all affection,” may I know who you devil are and why are you so jealous of my intelligence and charm ? And is there none in this house to invite the bridegroom for food other than a thumb-sucking imp ?”
” In a way you are right” she replied winking at me. ” I sucked not only my thumb but yours too; but that some fifteen years ago , in a place called Ambadi pisharam “
” You are my Ammu, right? ” Without waiting for her reply,I lifted her above my head and dropped on the floor as I used to do during her younger days. Holding her at her waist,
I entered the dining hall to the dismay of Lalitha and others who were keenly observing us.
” Ammu, how tall you have grown, ente Vadkkunnatha! “
I expressed my gratitude to the Lord of Trichur for giving me an opportunity to meet a child from the sharam, which was my second home for six months.
One middle aged woman, clad in starched, bright white sari was walking close to me. “Beware of the cow dung and banana skins, my son,”she warned me with benign smile,” I will arrange for another car ” she offered.I liked her.Don’t know why. some people attract you at the very first meet.
I enjoy walks, but not as the head of a procession, with a garland around the neck, fire works in the front and gas-lamps on the sides apart from a whole lot of curious onlookers, all around.Several people came out of their houses, pushing others to the sides, threw glances at me and withdrew.
The nadsawaram vidwans offered their pipes and encouraged me to play the instrument, “chumma oothunko sami”. I love to handle nadaswaram but a bride -groom was not expected to do that, leading his wedding eve procession!
P.M.S., arranged for another car for the old woman and children, but they refused to get down from the decorated vehicle.
“Ithae porum; ithilae maalai irukkae ” This car is fine; there are garlands around this ” was the excuse of the old lady.
“Nikkada avadea- wait,” PMS detained a mahout, who was leading an elephant, that way.
“Mon chadikko!” come on, son, ascend the animal” he commanded. My parents were worried about my safety, as I had never tried my skill on elephants, though I was an expert in buffalo ride. Many pushed, pushed me up and put on the pachyderm.
The high status, on the elephant, I enjoyed, but not the uneasiness below my seat. I never realized that it was so uncomfortable to sit on the elephant’s back. The fear that the animal under the influence of powerful lights around and the sound generated by fire works could run amok, was also there.
Those who sit on elevated seats might appear to be happy; but that is not the whole truth.
At last, the procession reached the marriage hall. I was helped to get down.. My back was burning as if some one had poured acid.
“Ivadae varu ” come along, commanded that woman who followed me, pulling my hand, took me to the kitchen and asked Athai for some warm water and a towel . “Ratnam, give him a hot massage ” She ordered. Ratnam hesitated and when I was about to call my mother, the Malayalee woman mildly slapped on my face affectionately and said, ” no more Amma, hereafter “. Along with Athai, she applied some balm at my back and gave a nice steam bath. PMS entered the kitchen and seeing my plight surrounded by the elderly women, enquired,”ah, Konthai, Janwasam sukham aayi illae, hope you enjoyed the procession ? ”
“Oh, paramasukham ” I replied , pressing my legs . That was just the beginning of my paramasukham. Much more sukhams were in wait.
After coming out of the kitchen, I asked PMS,” who is that lady, with grey hair, who followed me in the procession and helped Athai to give me a steam bath ?”
“Oh, she is our neighbour, Sharada teacher ” He clarified, “‘a kind woman close to us but pushed far away by the Destiny”
My affection for her, increased. It happens sometimes. An invisible flow takes place within, the moment you see a stranger, about whom you know nothing. The reason will be revealed later.
Those was a formal nitchitarthm, presided by my mother’s uncle who was also a vaadyar and he was strict with regards to the procedures . My back pain was still bothering me. If there was a delay in my getting up from the seat, he would shout, ‘eanthiru’ get up; if I had not bend my body sufficiently while prostrating , he used to yell, ‘porathu’ not enough. When I found his dictation intolerable, I muttered,” if you trouble me like this again I will mount that elephant and return to Hyderabad “
Those assembled in the pandal outside for the music program, came in along with the musicians for dinner.
An young girl approached me from the crowd, pulled my hand and said, ” come for food, you trouble maker!” Though that not the first time I was called a trouble maker, I was hardly prepared to be so addressed in my in-law’s house on the wedding eve by an unknown girl of fifteen or sixteen.
” Oh, sweet little one ” I addressed her with all affection,” may I know who you devil are and why are you so jealous of my intelligence and charm ? And is there none in this house to invite the bridegroom for food other than a thumb-sucking imp ?”
” In a way you are right” she replied winking at me. ” I sucked not only my thumb but yours too; but that some fifteen years ago , in a place called Ambadi pisharam “
” You are my Ammu, right? ” Without waiting for her reply,I lifted her above my head and dropped on the floor as I used to do during her younger days. Holding her at her waist,
I entered the dining hall to the dismay of Lalitha and others who were keenly observing us.
” Ammu, how tall you have grown, ente Vadkkunnatha! “
I expressed my gratitude to the Lord of Trichur for giving me an opportunity to meet a child from the sharam, which was my second home for six months.