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My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 07


Sitting in a corner, sipping and talking.
Pushpalatha came to our seat pushing the cart of drinks and BB asked me what I would like to have, ‘wine or whiskey?’
‘Sambaram , oru peria tumbler, ‘  I replied showing her, the size of the tumbler I would prefer, completely forgetting my daughter’s instruction that no brass tumblers would be provided in the aircraft and I should not drink the liquid made available in glass or porcelain containers keeping them inches above mouth.
‘Sambaram , verum sambaram, I repeated, sliding my shoulder with Ammalu’s, to ensure that I am not an unworthy brahmin, she thinks of..
‘Just plain sambaram or pepper- flavored ?’ asked BB and her smile revealed that she knew that I was not a teetotaler.
‘I will arrange sambaram for you,’  Pushpa offered to help, ‘ I have a sealed yogurt bottle and I know how to make the liquid you prefer’
‘Give the outdated oldie any outdated stuff, but give me liquids, I will make my cocktail,’ BB said.
‘Ha, ha, my dear Big Bun, your alcohol is outdated. The Vedas talk about an equivalent to that but was ignorant of Sambaram.
“Vainatheya somam, pibha somam, pibhathu vruthraha,
Somam dhanasya somino mahyam dadathu somini.”
‘Who told you Soma juice was equivalent to alcohol?,’ BB questioned me.
I pulled out a book from my shoulder bag and read from a book:
“Soma, in ancient India, an unidentified plant the juice of which was a fundamental offering of the Vedic sacrifices. The stalks of the plant were pressed between stones, and the juice was filtered through sheep’s wool and then mixed with water and milk. After it was offered as a libation to the gods, the remainder of the soma was consumed by the priests and the sacrificer. It was highly valued for its exhilarating, probably hallucinogenic, effect”
‘See the last sentence ends with , ‘probably hallucinogenic effect’
‘You are confusing Soma with Sura. It was not wine or alcohol, though fermentation may have been used in processing it,’ BB argued, ‘ Soma was not intoxicating’
‘Though immortalizing it was!’
‘Immortalizing! How ?’  She asked.
I pulled out from my bag another notebook and read:
‘a ápāma sómam amŕtā abhūmâganma jyótir ávidāma devân
c kíṃ nūnám asmân kṛṇavad árātiḥ kím u dhūrtír amṛta mártyasya”
We have drunk Soma and become immortal; we have attained the light, the Gods discovered.
Now what may foeman’s malice do to harm us? What, O Immortal, mortal man’s deception?
‘That thought was the result of hallucination’.  BB argued.
‘Madam, your cocktail is ready,’  Pushpa  placed the tray with the beverage on BB’s table and remarked with a twinkle,  ‘additional glass is there for uncle. Cocktail should always be shared’
‘Pushpa, so you decided that I should give her company, after hearing our argument?,’ I asked her.
‘ Yes, uncle. My uncle too talks incessantly on ancient wisdom, pulls out a paper sheet now and then from his bag and reads loud’
‘And gives company to women, like Perias?,’ Ammalu..
‘No madam. He sits in a corner, sips and talks’
‘Sips and talks alone?,’ Asked Ammalu again.
‘Yes, madam, alone’
‘He is a gentleman!;’   Commented Ammalu.
‘He is, madam’.  confirmed Pushpa.
‘Why do you look at my face ? Eppidiyo ponkol -do whatever you want’ Ammalu expressed her helplessness.
To continue
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Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 07

Is she a cow or a Kangaroo ?
My father’s shrewd eyes made a quick survey of the interior of the house where the wedding was to take place and noticed that there were sufficient bath rooms and bedroom facilities for the womenfolk . For men, it matters little as they would go and sleep on the thinnai or frontage of any houses nearby or even sleep under the trees ! In one of the most enjoyable weddings I attended, I opted to sleep in the open, and had to run for life when a battalion of black ants invaded me,  while under sound sleep, cradled by the river breeze.
Appa also noticed that it was Athai, the eldest sister of the PMS brothers was the de facto head of the family and she was the driving force behind the wedding arrangements. It was she, who was raising the twelve children of her brothers, having joined the PMS family after she became a widow, within a month or two after her wedding while she was in her early teens.  Embodiment of sacrifice and affection, she lived a pious life taking care of the needs of the two families including her aged father, who had only complaints as his possession.
It seems when Athai was playing in her mother’s court yard, a Kaniyan, local astrologer or face-reader happened to pass that way and commended, ” Bangi oru para,,baagyam ozhakku ‘ scintillating beauty but scanty luck”  I do not know how the kaniyan could predict her life just by glancing her face for a moment but the elders had unshakable belief in many such magical wands.  .
My father went and sat close to Athai to discuss the wedding arrangement and was happy that things were moving smoothly. He called a few youngsters from our group and instructed to extend any help sought by Athai. He called me and commanded, “I want you to behave like a  grown up man and not a child. I am sure that you know your responsibility”
“Yes dad, yes dad” I replied and bolted out. I peered into the kitchen. Children of the family of varying ages between one to twenty two sitting in a line awaiting the food to be served by the women folk. Babies collected their milk bottles went to a corner of the house to enjoy the feed  lying flat on the floor.The other kids  enjoyed their snacks, gurgling and gossiping, laughing or fighting.
While growing in combined families we never felt that we lacked something called privacy or freedom although when we turn back, wonder how so many men and women of different age, aspiration, mood and character could live under one roof .
 We all had a wash. Some snacks with coffee was served. Chami pattar was in a hurry . He finished eating quickly and entered the kitchen. With an air of authority, he boasted to the person standing there,” I am the bride groom’s maternal uncle “
” That is written on your face” the kitchen supervisor greeted, “can I be of any service to you, Sir”
” pack a dozen iddlies, two or three dosa, undiluted chutney and chilly powder separately.” Pattar instructed, “sweet cakes in a separate pack and hot coffee in a big flask”
”immediately” the host agreed with pleasure, ” you are the most important person after the boy’s parents and tomorrow you have to shift the bride groom above your shoulders and help him to throw the garlands around the bride’s neck. It is therefore necessary to build up your comically thin body frame fit to face the challenge”
“You are absolutely right ” Chami pattar was  equally good in leg-pulling, ” the moment I saw you, I developed a kinship probably because we had milk from the same cow “
“Ha,ha,ha ” the host enjoyed the joke. ” Sir, I am not revealing a secret, the maternal uncle, like you, also is a weight lifter”
” Varacholluda, pathoodalam- ask him to come, I will face him ”  Chami pattar laughed and the  host too joined in sharing his small happiness . “Packets ready ?”
“They are, they are” while handing over the packets, the host muttered  at Pattar’s ears, “kep this as a secret;   I am the maternal uncle of the bride groom!”  That was true.
Chami pattar blinked when the host added, ” tomorrow morning are you going to carry the bride groom or me? Remember the brides’s uncle is a —–“
“Pahalvan like you ! ” Pattar shouted and escaped.
We had several such occasions to share jokes and those lighter moments are missed in the present day weddings. We are in a hurry, even when we attend the most important celebration in a friend’s or relative’s life. Wait in the Que, shake hand, present the gift , eat and bolt out!
Despite my father’s warning to strictly mind only my work, I followed Chami pattar. He entered into a house close to the bride’s .
Why did he go there with food packets ?
Lakshmi, another member of our group, asked my uncle for a cup of milk for her baby.
“My sweet baby likes only cow’s milk and that too obtained from black cows. We have two such in our house ” She boasted.
“I can give you cow’s milk but cannot assure that  it was solely from a black or blue cow ” My uncle remarked,”because the colour of cows change according to the colour of the person who milks them “
” T.puram is notorious for scarcity and colour change ” Lakshmi lamented, ” had I known this before, I would not have attended the wedding at all”
My father who was overhearing the conversation took her to the cowshed and asked, “Lakshmi how many cows are here and how many black in colour ?”
“Total eight, two black ” Lakshmi counted and gave the figure.
“When I sent them from Palkkad, all the cows were black” My father tried to convince her. “The sea is close by and its breeze has changed the colour of six and if you don’t collect milk from the rest two soon, their colour also will change. I will get a vessel now”
“That is OK mama, I will collect milk from the kitchen.” She paused ,”mama, I wanted to clarify a doubt. Will the shade of my skin too improve if I stay here longer ? “
” I doubt” my father replied, ” the sea breeze will brighten only skin-deep darkness. Yours goes a bit further down “
There after Lakshmi never  mentioned about the body shade of the cow when her sweet baby cried for milk.
Her mother, however, did not like my father’s remarks about Lakshmi’s skin shade.
” Kalyani, our black cow mama ” she told dad, “will come running the moment she sees me, folding her front legs and ____”
“It is not a cow then Meena, but a kangaroo hopping on its hind legs ” he interjected  with a smile.
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Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 06


Soared high suddenly the bird of happiness and familiarity.


A most agonizing awaiting it was – to have a glance of the girl whom I had never met before though she would be mine the next morning. On such occasions, pleasure and pain, anxiety and helplessness play carom in your mind and each  movement of the coins, increases your heart-beat. I was as restless as a cat locked inside a house.
It was a self-inflicted, utterly meaningless, mental torture -I realize now, as we do in many cases when reason displaces emotion, although I admit that there was a charm in that waiting which I would have missed if, instead of finer feelings, reason was the master of the day. Reason has often pushed me to a corner and allowed emotions to have a hay day which did cost me heavily at times.
Every relative, close and not that close, friends and even sub-ordinate workers were introduced to my elders but there was no talk or  trace of the bride.  Silver, brass and  copper vessels, jewels,  clothes  and all sundry  materials to be sent along with the girl to her husband’s house were presented with unwanted gestures  and   explanations but there was no talk or trace of the girl who was to occupy the center stage soon.  It appeared that the  men and women  had gathered there only to chit chat, gossip and celebrate their union and not ours.
I sharpened again and again my eyes and ears in vain, not to miss my girl’s  shadow or gurgle.
”This stick for ‘kasi yatra’ was specially brought from Nagerkoil”- someone announced proudly. ” Who wants your stick, man ? ” I wanted to ask him, but didn’t.
‘Before disappointment could devastate my mood, I could hear the authoritative high pitch of  my father:
“P.M.S!” he called  the family head and chief host,” where is my daughter-in-law? I am seeing here, half the women population of this town but not her!”
You are so sweet, dad.
“I am just waiting for an auspicious moment to release my golden parrot.” P.M.S replied respectfully but firmly.
“I hope it won’t be very far” my father commented, “ my worry is that my son, in the meantime, doesn’t pick up a sparrow or dove and fly away. I see quite a few of them around here and for them, the auspicious time would have already started.”
“Damn with his auspicious time” Parasu decried the delay in presenting the bride.
When I asked him whether I could sneak in, Parasu replied, ” you can’t do that. you are the bride groom. Your father and other elders are still here and only your mom has gone inside”.  He sat in a corner, had a good chew got up and called me outside and advised showing the compound wall. “There is only one way, a bit dangerous though” he said, “jump over that wall with the help of that hanging tree-branch. I just saw your  girl  pulling water from the well, behind the wall. Meet her and return quickly. The whole operation should be over within five minutes; I will wait here. But remember, I won’t be responsible for the consequence, which might be bad, if  you are caught red-handed ”
l had never done that before-crossing the compound walls intentionally though purely out of juvenile and later adolescent and later middle- aged madness, I had attempted to peep through the window to know what was happening on the other side of my own house in odd hours.  But now, out of sheer necessity, I was prepared to 0bey my cousin’s caring advice , instead of waiting in the hall and looking at the face of every moving object, clad in pattusari.
instances of necessity becoming excuse to justify a wrong action is aplenty in our life and in our history too. Mahabaratham war for example .
“promise me that you will not go away” I pleaded, worrying how bad the situation could go, if I were caught by some pattar who would have straight walked into his matured middle age and later to a monotonous old age without crossing through the vibrant and valuable young age.
Pardon me for my crime if you can, I did cross the Wall although with some minor bruises.
Clearing the dust and mud on my clothes,  I looked up towards the well.  Ah, ‘ she’ was there pulling water from the well.
I went near and whispered, gasping.
“Look here, daughter of Krishna Iyer! Excuse me for addressing you, the way our epic characters are addressed. I don’t know your pet name and the name given in the invitation card is too long. Parasu has given only five minutes for the whole operation; I can’t afford to spend two minutes out of that, for addressing you, by that long name.
“Now, let me come to the point. I have come to marry you as suggested by my parents. Though you are not my dream girl, I like you. Now three minutes are over.
You can have a good look at me. I am now turning 360 degrees so that you can have my back view too.
Say ‘yes’. I will jump over that compound wall and go back, the way I came. Say ‘no’, I will jump into this well. By appearance you don’t seem to have the strength to pull me out of the well.  Four minutes are over. And, I warn you, I don’t know swimming”
She looked at my face  and cooed  with a mischievous smile,” I will never allow you to jump into the well as I liked the way you jumped over the compound wall. But wait a minute, please. Let me have a word with my elder sister, whose name is printed on the invitation card, before I say ‘yes’ to you.  Now, how many minutes are over, athimbar( sister’s husband)?”
My arrow disastrously deviated from its object and hit at a dangerously deceptive-looking atom bomb. I had crossed the wall, expecting to visualize a lightning; but I had to listen to a thunder. Things were definitely going out of my control. I became crazy.
Then “she” came like a  much awaited dawn  from behind the clouds and her bejeweled hands  flew a mild slap on the other girl’s  face and  turning towards me , she said, ” I apologize for  my sister’s naughty  behavior”
She didn’t have the dazzle of a cine star or the sophistication of a city girl. She was fair, slim, simple, unassuming, tender like a jasmine creeper and fragrant like a lotus flower. What attracted me most was her innocent smile,  brightening her calm face. I liked her. I searched for words but failed. She had no problem, as she was not confused.
“Hope you didn’t get hurt while jumping over the wall! Why all this ‘vepralam’- restlessness and mischief?” she asked with an innocent look. “You could have straight come inside. You are our close relative and have every right to come inside the house and  talk to me.” Was it so simple ?
I had to say something and I blabbered, ” as kids, we had played for an hour, my mother said”
” I was two and you were fifteen then” her voice was sweet but clear. ” so, you should remember; why ‘my mother said’? ”
I did not take it as an admonishment. It broke the egg of  reservation and soared high suddenly the bird of happiness and familiarity.
“How do you feel now?” I asked her while walking together towards the drawing room where the two families had assembled.
“Feeling like a princess in a fairy tale,” she said, slowly, dreamily, ” when her prince crosses a high wall to meet her”
When we entered the  drawing room, my father’s powerful eyes didn’t miss to notice the satisfaction on my face. In those days, we were not aware of the ‘thumbs up’ signal. So we just smiled.
“Chellappetty edudi-get my betel- leaf casket!” he commanded mother.
There were many messages in that command. His approval of the girl, his satisfaction in my approval of the girl and her approval of me and above all, the elation that the family name was kept up by my concurrence to my father’s decision taken without consulting me.


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My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 06

Mind is not a sealed cement tank.

‘This is the picture of my Appa, Ramaiyer or Ramappa for others’BB extended the black and white photo of a middle aged smiling face, forehead brightened by vibhoothi-chandanam marks.

‘When, my mother was struggling with a tender child and a tenacious mother to take care of and living with fear that any boisterous young man could attack her anytime, Ramappa induced confidence in her, ‘child, Something, no doubt is  lost, but not everything’. He held her hand and assured,  ‘I won’t continue in this company long but my affection to you will continue for ever’
‘ I was playing in a bush near by when he was passing,  holding a toy-train. I asked for that. He replied that he was taking it for his ‘ponnu’, daughter and would buy another one for me. I cried that I wanted the very same toy.  ‘Nee aaru ponnu, who are you, baby?’  he enquired. He had seen me only as months-old kid and therefor could not recognize me.
. ‘Ponnu ,’ I repeated his word.  ‘Nan aru, who am I,’ was his next question. ‘Appa,’  I replied. I did not remember my father’s face but knew that the person I was talking to, was Ramappa. Everyone in the estate called him by that name. That was a long word for me and therefore I replied in short, “Appa’ Ramappa gave that toy to me and lifted me above his shoulders. I bolted to show it to mom. She was standing walking distance away. ‘Who gave you?;  she thundered . I replied ‘appa’ and showed Ramappa who was following me.
That evening Ramappa sent a message to mother  asking her to meet him at his house. I went along with her.

‘The training you received at home has emboldened your interest in self-dependency and what is required now is to channel that in the proper direction and derive methods to enhance its intrinsic value.’ Ramappa  told mom.  ‘ Hear carefully. I have bargained the tea shop opposite to my house, for you, as its owner Nair is going to Kerala for good. The initial investment will be mine but the license and other owner shop rights will be with you. To frustrate your feeling that you are extended an undue favor by me, you will work in my house and support my wife in her household duties, if you have no objection. Your child will grow in my house along with my children and will be educated along with them. You are free either to stay with us at night or go back to your house. There will be complete flexibility for you in action, thoughts and living. I am offering this with the full cooperation and agreement of my wife and children and that is why I invited you here for this discussion. Otherwise I would have discussed this matter in my office or in the tea garden. No hurry. Convey your decision to my wife within a week’

Mother did not wait for a week, not even a day.

‘’Ramappa, you arranged my wedding and saved me from a humiliation and lifetime mental agony . You, in fact ,  saved two lives, mine and my child’s and thereby delayed the exit of another one , that of my mother. It was on your suggestion, a tutor was arranged for me and again it was on your suggestion the company is paying me an extra amount every month for the child- care. It was you who named my daughter as Easwary against the suggested name of Elizabeth by her father and Ellakka by my mother. I have not seen the face of my father and it may not be like yours but I know that his heart would have been like yours. Whatever you do will be for my benefit and whatever you say is my father’s order for me ‘

Mother moved away from there, unable to control the waves of emotion beating her inside.
‘ Your mother never mentioned about your dad to you or others?’ . Asked Ammalu.
It was obvious that In Ammalu’s mind, the thought ‘how a woman could forget her child’s father so easily’,  was surfacing frequently.

‘No, she never mentioned about dad to me,’  BB’s confession was clear.

‘I presume mom never pardoned dad for his misbehavior . In one way it was good for both. The tribal upbringing, habits and believes could never go hand in hand with the western civilization and had she gone to London she would have become a psychological wreck and the life of dad too would have become miserable ‘

I admired the way BB narrated her family history and wondered how intelligently her semi-literate mother tackled the problems of life. I remembered my father’s words,
‘Padichavan ellam arivaaliyum illai ; padikkathavanellam muttalum illai’
All those educated are not wise and all those uneducated are not fools.

‘Within a week, the ‘Nair Tea Shop’ became ‘Ramappa provision stores’

BB continued her life history. ‘My mom insisted that the shop should be named after Appa and he suggested that apart from tea, forest produces also should be made available to the tourists . Mother looked after the tea making and sale and another experienced person was employed for selling wood oils, curios, coffee seeds, tea leaves, spices etc. After completing his estate duties Appa sat in the shop to manage the cash and accounts.
Within a very short period mom and me became an inseparable part of the Appa family. I have two mothers now, Muthamma, my biological mother and ‘Amma’ my foster one . (I started calling her ‘amma’ along with her own kids ). My foster father had already become my ‘Appa’ when I addressed him just before he gifted me the toy train. Me and my mother were sharing everything with my foster parents, food, clothes, all amenities -the very life itself. We grew together. Out tribal practices had become a thing of the past and for all practical purpose we had become Palakkad Iyers. The transformation was painless and in fact, it was pleasant. For the first few days, Muthamma was allotted only the cleaning and maintaining the house and surrounding and taking the kids to school, washing clothes and washing the frontage of the house in the morning hours.  Amma used to do the cleaning of the pooja room and drawing kolams . After a few weeks, she was asked to help in kitchen work, such as cutting vegetables, cleaning vessels etc. She had to take bath before entering the kitchen as Amma was used to do. Muthamma was closely watching the way Amma was cooking, packing lunch for Appa and kids for the school. One day when Amma had a high fever and was unable to have a wash, she asked Muthamma to take care of the kitchen which she did with admirable  skill, unexpected from a tribal woman. Then on, she was asked to take over the daily chores, except during those days when, ‘madi’ was strictly observed such as shradham, amavasya tharpanam etc. The daily prasadam’ for Appa’s Sivapoojai was always prepared by Amma only. Every evening Appa spent an hour with the kids for teaching prayer songs at dusk and then our school lessons. The first lesson I learned from him was ‘”suklambaradharam Vishnum.
‘Initially, learn the slokams with correct pronunciation, without missing or changing a single word,’  he instructed,  making us to sit before a kuthuvilakku, brass lamp, after cleaning our hands and legs. ‘Later, I will teach you the meaning’.
His sitting posture, bared chest and a clean white double veshti covering lower part, vibhoothi marks on his forehead and other appropriate places, Tulasi malai hanging from his neck, surfaces several time in the pool of mind, whenever it is clear and when it becomes turbid too’
‘Keep you pool always clean ,‘ Parasu adviced  asked, ‘don’t allow filth and fish to enter ?’
‘’Filth and fish will always enter a pool unless it is a cement tank protected from all the sides including the top,’ BB replied. ‘And mind is not a sealed cement tank’

To continue

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Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 05

 
 
 
Family life is a flower garden;it need to be nourised
 
When nothing else to prescribe, hope acts as a wonderful drug. But hope is not a substitute for fact 


 
A most agonizing awaiting it was – to have a glance of the girl whom I had never met before though she would be mine the next morning. On such occasions, pleasure and pain, anxiety and helplessness play carom in your mind and each  movement of the coins increases your heart-beat. I was as restless as a cat locked inside a house.It was a self-inflicted, utterly meaningless, mental torture -I realize now, as we do in many cases when reason displaces emotion, although I admit that there was a charm in that waiting which I would have missed if, instead of finer feelings, reason was the master of the day. Reason has often pushed me to a corner and allowed emotions to have a hay day which did cost me heavily at times.Every relative, close and not that close, friends and even sub-ordinate workers were introduced to my elders but there was no talk or  trace of the bride.  Silver, brass and  copper vessels, jewels,  clothes  and all sundry  materials to be sent along with the girl to her husband’s house were presented with unwanted gestures  and   explanations but there was no talk or trace of the girl who was to occupy the center stage soon.  It appeared that the  men and women  had gathered there only to chit chat, gossip and celebrate their union and not ours.I sharpened again and again my eyes and ears in vain, not to miss my girl’s  shadow or gurgle.
”This stick for ‘kasi yatra’ was specially brought from Nagerkoil”- someone announced proudly. ” Who wants your stick, man ? ” I wanted to ask him, but didn’t.
‘Before disappointment could devastate my mood, I could hear the authoritative high pitch of  my father:
“P.M.S!” he called  the family head and chief host,” where is my daughter-in-law? I am seeing here, half the women population of this town but not her!”
You are so sweet, dad.
“I am just waiting for an auspicious moment to release my golden parrot.” P.M.S replied respectfully but firmly.
“I hope it won’t be very far” my father commented, “ my worry is that my son, in the meantime, doesn’t pick up a sparrow or dove and fly away. I see quite a few of them around here and for them, the auspicious time would have already started.”
“Damn with his auspicious time” Parasu decried the delay in presenting the bride.
When I asked him whether I could sneak in Parasu replied, ” you can’t do that. you are the bride groom. Your father and other elders are still here and only your mom has gone inside”.  He sat in a corner, had a good chew got up and called me outside and advised showing the compound wall. “There is only one way, a bit dangerous though” he said, “jump over that wall with the help of that hanging tree-branch. I just saw your  girl  pulling water from the well, behind the wall. Meet her and return quickly. The whole operation should be over within five minutes; I will wait here. But remember, I won’t be responsible for the consequence, which might be bad, if  you are caught red-handed ”
l had never done that before-crossing the compound walls intentionally though purely out of juvenile and later adolescent and later middle- aged madness, I had attempted to peep through the window to know what was happening on the other side of my own house in odd hours.  But now out of sheer necessity, I was prepared to 0bey my cousin’s caring advice , instead of waiting in the hall and looking at the face of every moving object, clad in pattusari.
“promise me that you will not go away” I pleaded, worrying how bad the situation could go, if I were caught by some pattar who would have straight walked into his matured middle age and later to a monotonous old age without crossing through the vibrant and valuable young age.
Pardon me for my crime if you can, I did cross the Wall although with some minor bruises.
Clearing the dust and mud on my clothes,  I looked up towards the well.  Ah, ‘ she’ was there pulling water from the well.
I went near and whispered, gasping.
“Look here, daughter of Krishna Iyer! Excuse me for addressing you, the way our epic characters are addressed. I don’t know your pet name and the name given in the invitation card is too long. Parasu has given only five minutes for the whole operation; I can’t afford to spend two minutes out of that, for addressing you, by that long name.
“Now, let me come to the point. I have come to marry you as suggested by my parents. Though you are not my dream girl, I like you. Now three minutes are over.
You can have a good look at me. I am now turning 360 degrees so that you can have my back view too.
Say ‘yes’. I will jump over that compound wall and go back, the way I came. Say ‘no’, I will jump into this well. By appearance you don’t seem to have the strength to pull me out of the well.  Four minutes are over.
“And, I warn you, I don’t know swimming”
She looked at my face  and cooed  with a mischievous smile,” I will never allow you to jump into the well as I liked the way you jumped over the compound wall. But wait a minute, please. Let me have a word with my elder sister, whose name is printed on the invitation card, before I say ‘yes’ to you.  Now, how many minutes are over, athimbar( sister’s husband)?”
My arrow disastrously deviated from its object and hit at a dangerously deceptive-looking atom bomb. I had crossed the wall, expecting to visualize a lightning; but I had to listen to a thunder. Things were definitely going out of my control. I became crazy.
Then “she” came like a  much awaited  dawn  from behind the clouds and her bejeweled hands   flew a mild slap on the other girl’s  face and  turning towards me , she said, ” I apologize for  my sister’s naughty  behavior”
“So, it looks you are my dream girl!” I managed to say a few words, though not very coherently.  She didn’t have the dazzle of a cine star or the sophistication of a city girl. She was fair, slim, simple, unassuming, tender like  a jasmine creeper and fragrant like a lotus flower. What attracted me most was her innocent smile,  brightening her calm face . I liked her.  However, as a matter of abundant caution, I didn’t open my mouth this time.
“Hope you didn’t get hurt while jumping over the wall! Why all this ‘vepralam’- restlessness and mischief?” she asked with an innocent look. “You could have straight come inside. You are our close relative and have every right to come inside the house and  talk to me.”
Was it so simple?
It was; otherwise the moment the egg broke, the bird would not have risen high so fast and soared so high beyond the clouds.
“How do you feel now?” I asked her while walking together towards the drawing room where the two families had assembled.
“Feeling like a princess in a fairy tale,” she said, slowly, dreamily, ” when her prince crosses a high wall to meet her”
When we entered the  drawing room, my father’s powerful eyes didn’t miss to notice the satisfaction on my face. In those days, we were not aware of the ‘thumbs up’ signal. So we just smiled.
“Chellappetty edudi-get my betel- leaf casket!” he commanded mother.
There were many messages in that command. His approval of the girl, his satisfaction in my approval of the girl and her approval of me and above all, the elation that the family name was kept up by my concurrence to my father’s decision taken without consulting me.
After the introduction was over, we had a wash and snacks with coffee was served. Chami pattar, finished his eating quickly and entered the kitchen. With an air of authority, he boasted to the person standing there, “I am bridegroom’s  maternal uncle”
“Welcome, sir!” the person in the kitchen, greeted, “may I be of any service to you?”
“I want you to pack immediately eight or ten iddlies, two or three  dosas, undiluted chutney and chilly powder separately, along with some sweet cakes. The hot coffee could be in a big flask.
“Sir, you are our respected guest and we, from the girl’s side, are here to obey your orders. All the more so, because you are the maternal uncle of the bride groom. You alone have the right to shift  the groom on your shoulders tomorrow morning and help him to throw garlands on the neck or head of the bride, depending on their- height parity and your stamina.
It is therefore, absolutely necessary to build-up your comically thin body-frame. I am not revealing a secret; the girl’s maternal uncle, like you, also is a weight-lifter and if necessary you can depend on him, to shift your whole family on his shoulders.
“I have finished my eating and  I cannot eat more than two iddlies. The packets I am asking for, are for my wife who is sick and therefore  unable to come to the dining hall”
“That is fine. Please wait for five minutes”
While handing over the food packets, he said,“ Please take care of your sick wife; the load you are carrying might perhaps injure her digestion track”
When Chamipattar was leaving the kitchen, with the packets in his hand, the kitchen supervisor called him.
“I know that you are in a hurry, but I am compelled to detain you for one more minute.Come closer please. I want to reveal a secret to you” He then whispered in pattar’s ear.
” You could have thought of some other relationship; I am the maternal uncle of the bride groom!”
Pattar was shocked and tried to escape from there, but my uncle would not allow that. “However, you have saved me from a traumatic tomorrow”
Pattar blinked and my uncle explained,” I need not carry the bride groom on my shoulders tomorrow, you see, because you have to do that job.
But sir, remember my caution: the opponent is a monstrous weight-lifter.”
Pattar struggled to escape from there but my uncle would not leave his hold on him.
“Try to recollect,” he told him, ”you might perhaps, be the bridegroom’s paternal uncle”
“Could be”
“Then, shall I pack a few more packets?”
Chamipattar did not wait to answer. He rushed with the packets in his hand towards  a house, not far away.
You know what; He had a ‘sambandham’-extra-marital relationship with a non-brahmin woman, long ago, while he was working  at T’puram. In fact, the main purpose of his visit to the city was to say hello to his sweet-heart. Who won’t like to carry a gift to his woman, meeting after a big gap and could there be a better gift, than the one he had in his hand, which he got free?
 

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Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 08

“Padha, Perias. Airport podham” he hurried me to accompany him to the airport,” Ravi is coming for a short vacation.I have selected a couple of girls for him and I want to perform his wedding if he chooses one of them”.
Dr.Rao is a leading cardiologist and his son is a software boy working in U.S.
“Fine, but on the way, I would like to call on a friend at Tarnaka”
”Okey, you don’t mind my coming to your friend’s house?”
“Not at all”
”Seshadri Nilayam’ looked refreshed and rejuvenated.  The bamboo chairs bought by Mama, at Rs. 10.00 each , soon after his wedding, have been replaced with leather sofas, and with matching window curtains and wall hangings,the reception hall looked grand. Within a short period of 3 days, Liz has earned the love and affection of the family, especially that of Alamumami and I realized that language is not indispensable, when the hearts develop a silent communication skill of their own,when there is a flow of love in between. Seshumama and athai also told me that they too liked Liz.
Pitchu, while talking to Dr.Rao realized and revealed that his son was well known to him and they were classmates. Pitchu’s sister,
Lakshmi served us ‘chai’ and some snacks
.
”Ee pappa chala anthanga unthikatha, Perias” ( is she not really good looking?), Rao commented and then in his typical simple and straight forward style, asked Lakshmi “Yeamma, na Ravine pellicheskkundava?”( will you marry my son?)
Except one person, we all thought that it was an innocent joke made in good spirit and just smiled.The person who took it seriously was Chamianna, who, while entering the house along with his wife, overheard Dr.Rao’s remarks and asked Seshumama,” Ee kazuveridaman aaruda? Nammudey veettil kkeri pennu chothikkan?”(who is this scoundrel to come to our house and ask for the hands of our daughter?)
Dr.Rao,  fortunately could not follow the question and before further damage could be done, Pitchu cleverly took the visitor to the side room and on the way, seeing Liz, asked Pitchu,” Ethukattil ninnu kittee, ee vella korangu?'(from where did you catch this albino ape?) . Again, he turned back and asked Seshumama, “Oii, Lakshmikkippo thalkarakkamonnum illayea?. Avalodu apasmaram poora poyi kozanthai sowkkiyama irukkala?”.
(hope Lakshmi is free now from the epilepsy problem, she had earlier?)
When she was a kid, Lakhmi experienced seizures once, due to high fever and the wicked pattar remembered that ‘divyastahram’ now, to shoot at the innocent girl’s future.
His arrows, however, failed to hit the targets.
Chamianna, a distant relative of Seshumama, is basically from Vaikkom and like some pattars of south kerala of olden days, talks mostly in Malayalam and uses the words such as ‘kazhuveridamon’ frequently,without worrying the bad meaning they carry. He doesn’t have good opinion about anyone in the world, and enjoys interfering in others’ matters. He never shares the happiness of others; so he is always unhappy. He is jealous of others prospering; so he never prospers. He has worked as a cook,school teacher,vadyar, bus driver,watch repairer and a transport company owner but was a failure in everything he did because of his bad manners,ego and crooked way of dealing. The God, however, in His unique way, provided a remedy for all his badness by
selecting, Meenamami, as his life partner. She is a wonderful woman, full of grace,kindness and affection and whenever I see that charming woman, I used to wonder, how she could be so smiling and look peaceful in spite of having such an unworthy husband.
As he couldn’t throw out Chamianna from his house, Pitchu wanted us to move out and asked Elizabeth,
“Liz, shall we also go to airport to receive Ravi?’
Meenamami said that she would be leaving that evening to her village and asked Pitchu whether she could also join us to the airport to spend some time with Elizabeth.
I realised later that actually the purpose of her accompanying us was to talk to Dr.Rao about the good qualities of Lakshmi.
“I am not related to Seshumama”, She told Dr.Rao, in Telugu, ‘but I know that family for the past several years. They live a simple and decent life and there is harmony and understanding , love and affection among the members. Lakshmi is a girl of exemplary character and intelligence. She will be an asset to any respectable family. Being a man of conventional thinking, Seshu may have some reservation, because, though your socioeconomic status is much higher than his, you are a Vashnavite and speak a different language. But these problems are not insurmountable and I can talk to Sehu and convince him . But before that, if you did make the proposal seriously, let your son meet Sehu’s people and if they also agree with you, talk to Lakshmi and let you know whether he wants you to go ahead”
” I am serious about this alliance ” Dr.Rao said,” Perias has mentioned earlier about Seshumama and now I have heard from you too. I want Ravi to see the girl today itself on our way back and give his opinion”
I was surprised at the turn of events. I went to Seshumama’s house to enquire about Pitch’s wedding arrangements, could not speak a single word about it but now we are discussing about his sister’s wedding, the proposal for which came from a friend who appeared unexpectedly. I wished Meera were with me.
Meena mami wanted to talk to Seshumama before Ravi goes to see the girl and moreover she wanted to remove her husband from the scene. So, she told Dr. Rao that it would be inhuman to trouble the boy who would be tired after a long journey and Dr. Rao should talk to his son about this matter after a day or two allowing him time to take rest and relax.
On our way back from the airport, Meenamami told Pitchu,”Let us go to ‘Ananth jyothi’, first. I will prepare food for you all there . You eat and relax.I will pack off my husband. I don’t want him to see Elizabeth again ”
That was a great relief for all of us.
After returning home, while Meenamami was busy in the kitchen, I called Meera and briefed her about the developments. She was extremely happy about the proposal and suggested that in case we were not able to get rid of Chamianna, the meeting can be arranged in Anantha Jyothy .
But Meenamami did manage to pack of her husband and therefore we all went to ‘seshadri Nilayam’and contrary to our expectation, Seshumama did not reject the proposal outright, though he would have preferred to have an Iyer boy with Vibhuthi, instead of an Iyengar boy with Namam and speaking a language other than his mother tongue.
“Seshu, remember,” meenamami said,” You are aging and have two daughters to be married; your two children are studying and you cannot burden to Pitchu any more, beyond a limit. Dr.Rao, is much above you in economical and social status and Pitchu knows Ravi well. Except for some variations in customs and social activities, Vaishnavites also follow the same scriptures as we do. Lakshmi speaks Telugu well and therefore language difference is not at all a problem. Anyway, mostly they will be talking only English”
Elizabeth also encouraged mama to take a positive decision, though she couldn’t differentiate between, Iyer-Iyengar or Tamil-Telugu or understand how a marriage could be fixed just in one meeting between an unknown boy and girl..
“Anyway, let Ravi and Laksmi see each other and then we will decide” Seshumama said.
Athai verified from Pitchu about the credentials  of Ravi and  Pitch confirmed that to his best knowledge, Ravi was not involved in any love affairs.
Next morning, after ascertaining from Pitchu about Laksmi’s educational qualification and some other details, Dr. Rao suggested that we meet informally in a hotel, so that in case, for some reason, the alliance didn’t materialize Lakshmi wouldn’t  feel bad. He invited all of us for a dinner.
It was a very friendly, casual meet and Ravi and Lakshmi were given enough opportunities to discuss and decide. Ravi wanted to have one or two meetings with her one to one, for which none from Seshumama’s side had any objection. Athai diplomatically asked a few questions to Ravi to know about his habits and way of living and Meera asked about his job, hobbies etc and also provided some information about Lakshmi on topics the youth are interested .
After a couple of days, I went to Seshumama’s house with some fruits and sweets and declared,
” Though I am against dropping costly kanchi pattu sarees in the homakundam, I believe that the benevolent sky, have  accept a few drops of ghee poured in the sacrificial fire and rewards the earth in the form of rains. Similarly, Alamumai’s Chatahppuram pulliar,has showered his blessings on us, accepting the extra one coconut on our credit; Yes, Dr. Rao and his family would like you to find an auspicious day and perform the wedding in two weeks”.
‘It is purely due to Lakshmi’s good heart and kindness to others” Alamumami said,
” Don’t pluck all the flours from the plant; leave a few for the bees and butter flies”, she used to warn me when I go to the garden to pluck flowers for Puja” ‘
We had a long discussion about the arrangements to be made. Meera, who was sitting by my side, pinched me to find out about Pitchu’s wedding so that both the marriages could be conducted the same day in the same hall. But, I was helpless as none of them in Mama’s family discussed that topic and I didn’t want to raise it on my own.
At that time something, really bad happened.

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Twinkle, twinkle Nikhil star

Twinkle,twinkle Nikhil star,

How you kindle life of all!

With a smile of million stars,

Like a lovely water fall.         1


Splashing smiles, you crossed a mile

Now wants to fly like a butterfly,

Mount a cloud to catch the moon,

Wonder why a moon wants another moon!                 2


Hums like a bee and quacks like a duck

Coos like a dove and swings like my luck

Laughter and smiles, mischief and babbles

In tons and tons, this rising sun                                          3


Thatha falls when Nikhil pulls

Nikhil laughs when thatha falls

And thatha calls for nikhils’s hand

They roll and roll and laugh and laugh.                              4


Fall is fun, for the little one;

And he bounces like a rubber ball;

Fall is fall for the older one.

He moans and naps and worries all                                    5


Nikhil claps,“ tha, thatha, tha”

Thatha rises, “ha,ha, ha”

“Fall is fun, I know” he blabs;

All is well, if Nikhil claps.                                                    6


Note:

This short poem was composed for the invitation  card for my grand son Nikhil’s first birthday, as desired by my daughter-in-law, Meghana

Baltimore,

Aug 8, 2008

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My maiden visit to USA – Chapter 05

image1-e1425436938795.jpg

The story of Big Ben.

Pushpalatha ( that is the name of the air hostess ) guided a huge woman with a small, smiling face, towards us and showed the seat next to ours.

‘Hi, can I sit here please?’ she asked politely turning to Ammalu, who invited her to occupy the seat next to hers.

‘Welcome,’ I intervened unnecessarily,’ but don’t spill over us’ 

Ammalu stared at me to reprimand while the lady, smilingly asked me, ‘spilling, a solid stuff like me? And Sir, answering to unasked question?’ 

‘Hei, fatty!’ I jumped from my seat and enquired, ‘ aren’t you, BB, Big Ben ?’ 

‘I’m. And you Perias , Peria and ss’?

‘How did you find out?’

‘Your three Ks and a queen close by’

‘3 Ks?’

“kudumi, kadukkan and koranku goshti’

She suddenly fell on me and hugged so strongly that I feared that I heard some cracking and breaking sound from my inside !  Ammalu was shocked  She kept blinking till BB bent down and touched her feet for blessings.

‘Ammalu, don’t go by the attire or articulations of speech organs, fluctuating facial expressions or liberal limb movements, of this woman,’ I introduced BB to Ammalu. She is a ground-to-earth Palakkad Mami  , though not by birth. I have mentioned to you about her earlier. Easwari is the name given by her mom which was manicured to Easwa by her father for his convenience . She is a great scholar, a prolific writer , teaching in a prominent London University. Above all, a very close net friend of mine, vibrant and jovial’

‘From whom did you inherit this bewitching smile ?’ I asked, “from your mother ?’ 

‘No, from my father , the guy who molested my mother’

‘What? ‘ Ammalu asked her mouth wide opened and Parasu tried to rise form his seat.

‘A big story, Ma,’  BB confessed. My biological father was David Daniel, a British, who was the owner’s son of the tea estate, where my mother was working, in Nilgiris. He was a decent guy but somehow took a fancy for my mother who was then hardly twenty. On a ‘puthari dina vizha’ or harvest festival, a thanks- giving ceremony for the Mother Earth for her bounty of fresh green paddy stems carrying bunches of paddies, the tribes venerate her by offering coconut and fruits and sing and dance in group to please her. it is not clear to me even to day whether my mother escaped from that group on her own or was kidnapped but the net result was she lost her virginity .

When the matter came to light, the entire labor force, the Todas, Badagas, Kotas and other tribal leaders with their cows and buffaloes, kathies and thadies, (knives and sticks ) marched towards the bungalow of my father and threatened to burn it. The manager of the estate, Rama Iyer, whom the workers respected for his impartial treatment and helping attitude, came out and pacified the crowd, requested them to disperse with an assurance that by the very next day he would find a solution.

‘You can burn him, burn the house or do whatever you want, if you do not accept my solution.’ He told them.

One young man, Yellakki shouted, ‘I am prepared to marry Muthamma’

‘That is nice of you, no doubt.’ Rama Iyer said, “but give me time till tomorrow. I should talk to Muthamma too’

Next day, the workers came with their cows and buffaloes, kathies and thadies but no torches.

‘The crime cannot be compensated; it cannot be redeemed by burning the criminal or his house. We know how decently the son of the estate owner has been behaving till the other day. There has been no occasion to distrust him so far.

But now, what should not have happened has happened. He regrets his action and is prepared to agree for any of your terms including marrying Muthamma. She will take her to his country and extend every respect due to a lady of his family.

‘Enna Ramappa, Muthammavai Mariya ammavakka sollareengala ? You want Muthamma to become Mariyamma ? ‘ asked Kempa Gowda .

‘What about my offer to marry her?’ Yellaki enquired.

‘We will not allow the chinna sett ( junior master ) to enter our estate when our women are there,’ shouted Kulla.

‘Agreed,’ Rama Iyer came forward to face the crowd. ‘And he too is agreeable for all your conditions. He doesn’t believe in the existence of God and does not follow any religion. So the question of treating our girl as a christian doesn’t arise. Regarding Yellakki’s offer, Muthamma is not agreeable . She will marry none other than Davud. Otherwise, she will go away from the hills and look for a living elsewhere. I treat Muthamma as my own daughter and I will not allow her to go elsewhere. I will accept her in my family as one of my children. If you, the tribal heads and others do not agree for this, I will resign my job and take legal action against David Daniel’

He won the day. the crowd accepted the proposal. Iyer gave each of them a few coins to thank them for their cooperation in settling a burning problem.

After the wedding, which was a simple affair as per the tribal tradition, mom preferred to stay in her old mung and visited her husband’s bungalow infrequently . My father arranged a tutor to teach her English. An English lady taught the ethics of western culture and practices in British homes and behavior pattern in parties and clubs.

‘It would have been a hard task for your mother , the conversion from the tribal tradition to the sophisticated western ways,’ Parasu asked.

‘Not really, I was told,’. BB replied, ‘we in the hills were closely moving with the westerners who were in plenty there, especially during the seasons’

‘And generally women learn things fast,’ Ammalu said.

‘Water flows will be faster into an empty space,’ l poked my nose as is my vogue and received a fitting rebuke from BB. She grabbed the chella petty, betel case from Parasu’s hand and placed on my lap. ‘Keep munching’ 

‘Agree with Ammalu mom ,’  BB said, ‘ and women generally, do not flap an eye when the Fate aims a powerful torch at their face.’ 

‘The dawn of independence for the country was drawing closer and the Englishmen were leaving one by one and in groups. My dad came home one day and asked my mom to get ready to go with my dad along with her mother . I was then six months -old safe and secure inside my mother’s womb.

‘I want my child to be born in this valley from which I sprouted, my parents and theirs,’ Mom was firm. My dad tried to persuade my grand mother and promised comfortable journey and complete support in the new place. ‘If you agree to come, Muthamma will definitely join me. she doesn’t want to leave you alone here ‘

Grand ma was firm in her denial . She did not want to leave the Toda mund, her thatched house, where she lived all her life, without leaving it even for a day, where her forbears lived and died and where her only daughter was born and raised.

‘I was born in this soil; as a child, as a teen- aged, as a middle- aged, as an old woman, I have roamed on this greenly hills and silent valleys behind the cattle and the vast land here is filled with their smell and the smell of their drops. Unless I am buried under its surface, I will have no peace in the other world ,’ said my granny holding close to her body all the tools she used, stick, bamboo basket, bent knife etc. as if she wants those implements to accompany her in her last journey. ‘ And should I not see the face of my grand child? Should I not apply scented oil on the baby’s tender hands, legs, chest and back and wash with warm water scented with cardamoms and tulsi leaves ?’  She gestured as if she was holding the baby in her palms and mumbled a lullaby in her native dialect.

‘ I must leave anyway. Most of my people have gone back. But I shall come again to see my baby’, said my dad.

He did come when I was an year old. By then, my grand mother had passed way, leaving her sickle and scissors behind. She had however the satisfaction of giving me cardamom -scented warm water bath and gentle swing in her degenerated palms .

‘ I want this little plant to whom I gave life to grow on these hills, watching the lavishly moving clouds and listening to the whisper of air from the Emerald lakes,’ mother said. 

Father returned disappointed.

‘Did you meet him later,?” Parasu asked.

‘I did, when I went to UK for higher studies . We will talk about that later. But I can tell you one thing, ‘ women, generally, do not flap their eyes when the Fate aims a powerful torch at their face’

‘You  said it once,’Parasu reminded.

‘She did, ‘ Ammalu intervened, ‘ Repetition never dims the glamour of such words and phrases’ 

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Oh! Parama Sukham – Chapter 04

Sometime, old people  act wisely.


 

http://sreekanteswaramtemple.com/images/head.jpg


 
This is the pic. of  the famous Sreekanteswarm Temple in Thiruvananthapuram,  adjacent to my wife’s house


“Oi, Omma pon ennapennaral -what is your daughter doing,?” Parasu asked his cousin.
 

Krishnaiyer gave some standard reply, which was not of concern for Parasu. He got the information he wanted, that his daughter was not married.
 

“Good. Coming Friday evening, come to my athai’s house at Olavakkode  prepared for nitchithartham” Parasu instructed left the place.
 

Krishnaiyer, a simple man, stood there without knowing what to do  but as all good husbands would act, went home and told his wife about his encounter with Parasu. She would have rejected it as a casual remark, but for the clarity in the message linking Olavakkode family, which was closely related to her, and the stipulation of  even the time for nitchithartham as if all the formidable  formalities were completed.
 

Though closely related, there was no contact between the two families for years, but they would not think twice if the proposal was real and made seriously.They were in utter confusion, close relatives were called and discussed and everyone bombarded Iyer for not ascertaining the complete facts.
 

“You could have at least brought him home” His wife complained.
 

“Aa kazuveridamon avide ninnalalle? He just vanished into thin air. I was stunned for a moment when he brought up such an important proposal and I did not know what to ask “
 

Why Krishnaiyer? Won’t you too be stunned, if a relative meets you on the street and ask you to come prepared for the nitchithartham of your daughter with a boy of a known family .
 

“It was not just a proposal”, P.M.S, the elder brother of Krishnaiyer and head of the family,said,”It was an instruction for action within a time limit. We have just two days.How to take it seriously or how to ignore, is the question..Parasu is not an idiot, though sometimes, he acts as one,with a purpose. Without athangal’s  (my mother) orders, he wouldn’t have made that proposal”
 

They searched for the man who threw a stone into the pond and quietly vanished. It was, in fact, a ‘thimingalam’–shark that he threw into the Sreekanteswaram pond and not just a pebble. That man had already left T’puram. How to collect more information?
 

Letters would take ages. Sending telegram was a possibility but what to write? it would be foolish to ask my father, whether they should go to Palakkad for nichithartham, as suggested by Parasu. Even promissory notes are not executed without certain preparations.  A decision was taken by the seniors, in the family conference, after prolonged debate and discussion, to send the parents of the girl to Olavakkode house, under the leadership of P.M.S, the family head and a  leading businessman, good at negotiating and decision making. Athai, Krishna Iyer’s  elder sister, a capable senior  member respected by everyone in the family and the girl’s mother also would accompany. The composition of the team was  carefully chosen to match my father’s sophistication and shrewdness. The strategy worked out was that they would pretend that were on their way to the Pazhani temple , just making a casual visit, breaking the journey at Olavakkode to meet their kin. In case, my father raised the issue of marriage, they would negotiate. Otherwise, they all would go to  Pazhani, males would go for a clean shave of their head,worship the Lord,say ‘hara haro hara’ and return.
 
 
 
They came .  My parents were delighted by their visit, though they didn’t know the purpose, since Parasu hadn’t met them, after he returned from T.puram. 
 

Anyway, things have to come out and they did .
 

During the general discussion, my father mentioned that he was looking for a girl for me and then, the guests disclosed that Parasu had already mentioned it to them and since they were planning a pilgrimage trip to Pazhani, they thought it would be a good idea to drop at Olavakkode and discuss with my father about the marriage proposal also. Anyway,a visit was long over due. Introduction well presented.
 

“We would be delighted to give our daughter to your son, provided your demands are reasonable” The girl’s party mentioned humbly but not casually. “No demands,” father was categorical in his assertion.”Your family is very closely related to my wife and that single criterion would prevent me from making any demands”. He also told them about my age , academic and job particulars.Those  were not of any concern for the T.puram party . The fact that I was son of so and so, settled the whole issue. Who bothers about the trivial issues of compatibility in age or education or the job details or the income of the prospective bride groom!   My mother was overwhelmed by the prospect of obtaining a girl from her Mankombu family and therefore didn’t ask any question about the girl. Moreover, when she had spent a whole day with her proposed daughter in law, when she was a kid of two years.
 

When the T. Puram party was getting ready for the nitchitartham , my father  again asked, was it not necessary to arrange a meeting between the boy and girl and the answer was a firm ‘no’. My father was still a bit hesitant because he had not seen the girl and what was at stake was his prestige in case I disagree to the proposal. At that moment entered Parasu and assured my father that he knew her personally. “You won’t get a better girl and your son would never say ‘no’,” he assured.
 

That settled the matter and the Nichithartham was performed. Of course, my father knew that I won’t disagree and I didn’t.
 

 
I could reach home only two days before the wedding date and therefore, the same night, we left for T.Puram.That was my maiden visit to that home of Anantha Padmanabha, art and music.The Lord’s magnificent presence fills the whole city, which I consider as the cultural capital of Kerala.
Every house is decorated with at least one or two paintings of the Royal painter, Raja Ravivarma’.The sun doesn’t set there, without hearing a few krithies of Swathi thirunal, from temples, parks or street corners. At T’puram and Kalpathy, pregnant mothers hear the beats of one thala or other, emanating from their oyster within, which holds their pearl. Kids, enter this world singing swaras and before they start going to school, singing keerthanas.
 

There were about forty people in our group, which included six- months old babies  to seventy five years old men and women. Railway station was at a  walk-able distance from our house and therefore, as it always happen, we started just five minutes before the arrival of the train. It was night, the benevolent sky sent it’s best wishes in the form of heavy rains and by the time we reached the station, everyone was fully drenched. For lack of time to change the dress in the waiting room which was dark, we boarded the train which was  ill-lit, as usual.It was a sight to watch all the menfolk, holding the key tied to the sacred thread and bending down their head,struggling to open the metal boxes, to remove dry clothes. Nowhere else did I see the habit of using the sacred thread for securing the keys, as in our place. women were shivering with their water-soaked kanchi silks stuck to their skin firmly. The rains continued unabated and  the train was not in a mood to start; kids were becoming restless and old men had already started snoring, unaware of the struggle the womenfolk were undergoing to change their cloth in the crowded train. After an hour, the train started, hesitantly as if it was not its job. Chami pattar,who was snoring till then, remembered that he had left his snuff box at our house and would like to go back and collect it. Parasu, suggested,” Chadikkolu,swamy; aduthavandiyil varam–Jump and catch the next train”.
 

He didn’t jump. Sometime, old people  act wisely.

Love and regards,

sperinkulam
Ocala, Florida
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Pitchumani and his non vadama wife – Chapter 07

Meera prepared food, mostly north Indian dishes and served. She, then helped Liz to dress up in Indian style, with sari, pottu and bangles and when we were about to start, Meera asked us to relax for some more time, picked up the car key and went out with athai. I could guess that they have made a pilot trip to give their impression about Elizabeth and also inform Seshus that Pitchu was yet to marry and the children were not theirs. This was to create a conducive climate  before Elizabeth reaches there. Amazing girl !
Meera returned after an hour when I was about to start with my guests, Alamumami’s called Meera.
” Perias, I am going to drop Pitch and Liz in mama’s house.”
“Not without me”
“Yes, without you.”
“Okey, then do one thing. Leave the car with Pitchu and you take an auto to return.”I said, “pitchu, you can keep the car till you return to U.S. Hope you have not forgotten the road rules here and your Indian license is  still valid ”
I miss many things on the U.S.A roads though they are wide, even and decently demarcated :
Buffaloes, traffic constables, beggars and above all human beings. Except in cities like New York or Washington DC, no people are found on the roads,leave away the highways, even on the suburban roads.
Though you are not sure of returning home safely in Indian roads, there is a thrill in driving, expecting someone to jump before your vehicle, from any direction other than above. Here, I long to see, a marriage procession, with the bride groom on a horse, men, women and children in colourful dresses dancing on the roads accompanied by the band musicians, least worried about the traffic jams caused by the procession; I long to hear the sound of horn at least from one vehicle when thousands of them are plying in lines, one after the other, in high speed; I long to see a temple procession with women, clad in their best, carrying decorated mud pots filled with water and topped with a bunch of neem leaves followed by a Potharaju, whipping his back with a big coir rope and making noises; I long to see  bullocks dragging the carts behind, moving absolutely unconcerned about other vehicles, but in straight line and to the correct destination, though the driver will enjoy a good sleep till the destination is reached.
Not even a street dog, cow or even a crow !
When Meera took them to Seshumama’s house, I felt that my importance was snatched by her. Let her come back.
.
Even after half an hour of her return, Meera didn’t tell me the reason for her neglecting me and therefore, I casually remarked,
” Meera, it is good that you spared me the trouble of dropping my guests to their house.I could clear my table” I remarked concealing my anger with an untimely smile.
Chiding me for getting annoyed, she explained the reason:
In Seshumama’s house, womenfolk keep away from the pooja room, kitchen and main hall during their monthly periods and Alamumami wanted Meera to verify from Elizabeth that she was not presently under such restriction !!
” Could you have ascertained it from Liz or could I in your presence ? ” She asked, showing a V sign.
I couldn’t visit ‘Seshadri Nilayam’ for the next couple of days. However, I learned from Meera, that Pitch and Elizabeth received a very cordial welcome.
Mami and her elder daughter Lakshmi, received them with ‘harath’y and Seshumama, collected the two dollar coins dropped in the arathi vessel by his son and instead, handed over two, one rupee coins to his wife and daughter. Coins are coins .
Mama , who seldom wears shirt while at home, was seen with a colour T- shirt, gifted by his son sometime ago and mami, wore one of her best Kanchi sarees, bought for her wedding. Athai was in her usual starched and pressed bright white dress and children all were also in their bests. Mama and mami became very emotional and with moist eyes, went inside, in two different directions. When they returned, Athai had already served coffee and some snacks. Elizabeth was, contrary to expectation, quite comfortable, whereas, Pitchu was a bit uneasy with the dust here and there.
” Three days are over since Pitchu and Liz arrived, but you have not even started making arrangements for their wedding”, Meera reminded me, when I was enjoying my morning coffee, on the terrace of my house.
“Bhagyavantham prasooyeda”, Kunthi blessed Draupathy, when she came to take her blessings; nothing unusual about it. But the next few words are unforgettable. ” Ma sooram, ma cha panditham”.
“May you be blessed with a lucky son, but not a brave or scholarly one”. The agony of a mother blessed with children of extreme valour and wisdom, but living in misfortune and misery cannot be said in a better way”
I continued with my high voltage assault on the unprepared Meera .
“I have often heard mothers saying that their children should become Einstein or Bill Gate. I tell them to pray for a normal healthy child without any mental or physical disorders, with a strong but kind heart and plenty of luck.
“I used to preside over the meetings of the parents of the mentally disabled children and some of them used to express their fear that, after their passing away, there were none to look after their unfortunate son or daughter and therefore they wished that those children per-decease them “. I continued .
“I am sure that my grand mother would have blessed her daughter in law, as Kunthi did, and that is why I am born as a lucky guy to have a friend like you, Meera’
” Mera thamak karaabh kardiya, aap. subhe, subhe- you have spoiled my moods in the morning” Meera chided and exhorted, “why don’t you go and see what is happening in SN, instead of torturing me with your monotonous monologue ?”
I was about to take my vehicle when my friend Dr. Chalpathy Rao came in parking his vehicle on the front.
Some are serious as if the burden of governing the entire universe is on their shoulders and some, despite heavy responsibilities behave  as if they have come to this world for a holiday and every day is a holiday for them. Dr. Rao belongs to the latter category. He is a respected cardiac surgeon in the city. His patients’ hearts are as dear to him as his own and he dwells in their heart almost as an integral part.
” There is a nest hanging from the ‘nimbu chettu’, near the well,” he remarked, tasting the red wine handed over by Meera, ” ask the kids who play around not to destroy it ”
I had never noticed that nest hanging from a lemon plant in a corner.
We don’t often observe the changes taking place in our garden or even in our own body or in our behavior, unless others point out.