Showing posts with label Kerala. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kerala. Show all posts

Siya came from Delhi last month for a short vacation. For the uninitiated, Siya is my little niece. I could hardly wait to see her and Chechi. It had been six months since I last saw her as a 2 year old and hence I was apprehensive about her recognizing her super-duper Chitta (Aunt). All my apprehensions were blown away, when she came tearing towards me and wrapped herself tightly around my legs. It was the most heart melting moment in my life as a Super Aunt.

Siya has grown up and I could hardly wait to show her around Kerala. I wanted to show her the beautiful river flowing near my home and the water birds that dwell on it's banks. I wanted to play with her in the sand in our courtyard and had even bought a beach-kit to frolic in the sand. I wanted to show her the ducks, hens, goats and cows which she never gets to see in Delhi. In fact, I was more excited than her.

At home in Kerala, she refused to come inside the house. She always wanted to go out and play in the sand, gather the nutmegs which had fallen off from the tree, go outside the gate to watch goats or sit inside the car carrying her bag and play "going to shop". And I being the hypocrite Aunt that I am, often refused to come out and play under the sizzling summer heat and get barbecued. Come sunshine or rain, kids don't really care. I preferred playing "doctor-patient" inside the house. Siya has a real stethoscope which she got from my doctor Aunt. Invariably, I am always the poor patient and Siya the Doctor. I will come to Siya to get treated for my sickness varying from fever and cough to 'pain on my little finger'. And how cute is it to see Dr Siya put her stethoscope on my little finger to diagnose my pain. Afterwards, she will apply imaginary ointment on to my little finger and enquire, "Are you okay now?".

Siya liked the beach kit which I bought for her. She dug up the courtyard with the spade, filled sand into her green bucket and marched towards the base of coconut trees to empty the contents there. To summarize, Siya happily dug up her Grandmother's precious garden!

We went to my Father's ancestral house. It was the perfect time to introduce Siya to nature. On the way, we stopped at an acquaintance's house. To my surprise, they had all imaginable domestic animals at their house. They had ducks, hens, goats, cows and even a poor caged parrot. It seemed the world was conspiring to entertain Siya.. Siya was on cloud nine, seeing the quacking ducks wading in the murky waters and the big cow tethered to the pole. She bravely fed the goats with leaves and to her utter delight, they ate right out of her hand. She even stroked the fidgety goats as the lady of the house held them for her. She kept calling out to the parrot, "thathammee thathamme".

As we were traveling, we saw a guy on the pavement selling chickens, some painted yellow, others painted pink. There were over a hundred of them squeaking inside the makeshift fence. We stopped the car and went out to watch them. Siya kept yelling, "Chitta, Touch them..touch them". The guy offered to sell us a dozen chicks for 100 Rs. I was tempted but Amma instantly declined.

We reached Valyamma's house, where my cousin's six year old son was there. Siya and Abhi made great friends, playing bat & ball, racing the car, going to watch the cow and simply holding hands & running around..In fact Siya tortured Abhi pushing him around, pulling out the toy car from his shirt pocket and thrusting wild leaves into it instead. Finally, in an act of immense friendship, she even pulled out her colourful beaded necklace and deposited it around Abhi's neck. Only an innocent two year old can do this.

I wish Siya could remember all these precious moments, when she grows up..But alas, nobody remembers their life when they are just 2 years and 9 months..So here I am recording all those exquisite moments, so that little Siya can cherish them when she grows up.

Hugs to my little sunshine girl!!!!

                                                                                Signing off,
                                                                                         Chitta

When I think green, I remember my father's ancestral house nestled in the interiors of a remote village in Thrissur. The small tiled roof house enclosed by a dense courtyard, lined with coconut, mango, jack fruit and arecanut trees. You name the trees and it will be there.. Where the faint scent from nutmeg and tamarind trees waft in the air.. Where the cows and hens rule the haven..Where the courtyard wall is never concrete or cement but a dense row of thorny bushes... Where the summer vacation were spent climbing guava trees, munching juicy red cashew fruit and slightly sour roseapples (chambakka)..





















Image:wwwsoulreflectionsinartcom-colleen.blogspot.com


 The small house stands proudly, with a neat garden in the front. At a corner of the yard stands the cowshed and hencoops. Right next to the cowshed, there are pyramidal haystacks mounted after the harvest, which ultimately feeds the cows. There is an old well with moss covered stone walls near the house. Pigeons used to build nests between the creeks of it's wall and we used to scare these birds by splashing the water with well-aimed stones, that makes them noisily flutter out of their cosy nests. The well water was used to irrigate the fruit trees in the courtyard. Water was initially pumped up into a small tank, from where it flowed through a channel and then cascaded down forming a waterfall. As kids, all of us cousins used to take bath here. Few will plunge into the tank, few will be in the water channel, and others frolic under the manmade waterfall. It used to be an awesome experience playing and bathing in the pure, ice cold water coming deep from within the earth. This water will ultimately flow through mud structures made into a canal (kayyani) that irrigate the whole land. I used to love playing in kayyani. Whenever water was being pumped, I used to run through this mud canal happily splashing the water all over. During monsoon, when irrigation was not required, I would eagerly watch out the kayyani for those green tadpoles and eggs floating on staggered rain water..

There is a long wooden bench and desk in the house, where we six cousins used to sit together and have food. Pet cats used to walk under our desk, rubbing their furry bodies against our legs, eating tidbits of fishfry and pappad that fell from our hands or are deliberately dropped when we didn't like the food. There used to be atleast 5-6 cats anytime. As a kid, I used to hate milk. Drinking milk was a chore which I used to escalate to the cats. So after carefully ensuring that my Mom was not looking, I will pour out my share of milk to a coconut shell and secretly offer the cats, who used to lap it up all gleefully.

In the evening at dusk, we used to visit our family temple. When I think about that time, I remember everybody freshening up to visit temple and I can still feel the scent of Cuticura powder mingled with sandalwood paste lingering in the air.. We used to take oil bottles and wicks to lighten the stone lamps around the temple. I love the sight of these coal black stone lamps darkened by years of exposure to oil and fumes. I feel, it's the fresh feeling of evening bath and the heavenly glow of stone lamps in the dark that gives a spiritual aura to my childhood temple memories.. Even when I visit temples nowadays, which happens rarely, I don't feel particularly religious, rather I feel spiritual..I feel light..

When I took hubby dear after wedding to the ancestral house, I was looking forward to recreate those wonderful memories. Showing him the old house, the well, the cowshed and hen coops, the kayyani and temple..The cowshed is uninhabited and wild creepers have grown all over it... There is no trace of the hencoops.. The old well and the tank still remain as testimonies of good times.. In the evening, it was drizzling but we still decided to go to the temple. My parents, sis, brotherinlaw and little niece were also there.. We had to walk through the dark village path for a short while to reach the temple. It was pitch dark and cloudy with no street lamps. As we walked under the umbrella, M's arms wrapped around my shoulder, the cold breeze making us quiver, I longed to see the glowing stone lamps and fill myself once again with the spiritual aura of my childhood. As I looked ahead, I could see the rest all walking ahead. My Achan and Amma under the umbrella leading the way.. My Chechi and Chettan with vava in arms closely following them.. And we both behind.. As I pointed out to M, how my Achan holding Amma under the umbrella is the same way in which Chettan is holding Chechi & it's the same way M's arms wrapped around me, we couldn't help smiling.. Three generation walking toward the temple in the rain... Three generation seeking spirituality and solace in the age old dieties of the temple, where generations of people have thronged.. Life seems to have come to a full circle...

 During my growing up years, I used to love going to my grandmother’s house. It was in Vypeen island, a sleepy little town, separated from the mainland of Kochi by a wide expanse of backwaters and Arabian sea.














The boat journey from Kochi to Vypeen island used to instigate my childhood fantasies… The fleet of majestic ship at the Cochin shipyard and the brightly lighted sea-port gave it a magical aura. As the ferryboat move away from the mainland, I used to watch out for those innumerable green islands that dot the Arabian sea and the Chinese fishing-nets yonder in the horizon. It used to look enchantingly beautiful during sunset. Seagulls and cormorants used to hover over the fishing boats, trying to snatch off few fish from the boat’s deck. And an intermittent beacon of light flashing from the light house use to guide the boats and ship in the dark.

My grandma’s house was a ten minute walk from the boat jetty. The backyard of the house directly opened to the backwaters. I have never seen any house so near to such a wide-stretch of water. In those days, I used to wake up early, to watch the sunrise and the backwaters being painted in colorful hues by the rising sun.

My GM had a pet dog and a small flock of ducks at her house. I used to entrust upon myself the job of opening their coop in the mornings, let the ducks out and likewise chase them back to their home in the evenings. Sometimes the notorious dog Titto, used to chase the ducks and the terrified creatures used to jump into the water , paddle away and ultimately lose their way. And in such cases, my poor uncle had to go all the way to the nearby Mulagukadu island, where they ultimately used to land up and bring them safely back home. On special occasions when VIP guests come home, one of those ducks used to be killed and it would eventually reappear as duck roast on the dining table :)

I used to be awed seeing the variety of seafood, she used to serve us for lunch and dinner. The fishing boats harboured at our backyard and the ice-company nextdoor ensured that we got a lot of absolutely-free seafood at our doorsteps. The crabs, shrimps, lobsters, shell fish all seemed to be a part of our ‘ordinary meals’ during those days. Long gone are those days... No longer is anything free and no longer is anything so readily available. And I stopped eating fish many years ago.

Rainy days used to be li’l wild out here, due to the proximity to Arabian sea. I remember those stormy nights when heavy winds blowing out of the sea, uprooted mango trees and breadfruit (kadachakka) trees in our orchard. The mango trees used to be close to the house and hence their branches occasionally bent and fell on the tiled roof. And once it damaged the roof that it started leaking and flooding the room. There are some images that got framed in my mindscape. One such image is the whole family having dinner under the dimly lit oil lamp, while the storms raged outside.

It was on one of those stormy afternoons that, a lost baby turtle found it’s way through the water and landed up on our backyard. I found out this ‘jem of a beauty’ and instantly fell in love with it. But the turtle on the other hand showed utterly no interest and instantly withdrew it’s pretty head into the shell. I cautiously picked up my ‘shy’ turtle and dropped it into a bucket of water. I decided instantly that this turtle and I are gonna be friends forever.Afterall I have learnt in my GK textbook that turtles live for over a 100 years. After a while, Titto found out this intruder in our house and stood near the bucket barking and growling. I bet he was jealous about all the attention directed at this ‘intruder’. But all my hopes of having a pet-turtle was brought to an abrupt end by my GM, who warned me sternly that sea turtles are poisonous. I threw a tantrum, but in vain. Finally, I sadly placed the baby turtle back into the water. And it swam away , to where it ultimately belonged…

Times have changed...Inevitably, the old tiled house has been remodeled into a more sturdy house. There are no quacking ducks flocking the backyard anymore. And now, there is a wall separating the house and the backwater. The wall that separates my nostalgic yesteryears from today....

It rained heavily in Bangalore on friday. We were having Ethnic Day celebrations at office terrace, when the menacing thunderous clouds rolled up and it began raining cats & dogs.Heavy pellets splashed on us from the tarpaulin sheet overhead. I was traveling home that night. And in Kerala the monsoon was setting in with all its ferocity .

My growing up years were closely associated with monsoon. It was the season I used to love as a kid, the season which used to irritate me when I grew up, the season that arouses waves of nostalgia when I think of it now. I used to hate it because, I could no longer go out anywhere and had to stay back at home. Hence my moods used to be as cloudy as the overcast monsoon sky. There was a persistent damp feeling everywhere & dresses took forever to dry up.

My home is on the banks of river Periyar and it's mesmerizing to watch the river when it is raining. The rain lashing on the gentle river and creating turbulent whirlpools is something I love watching .During my childhood, it was usual for Periyar to flood up during monsoon & threateningly encroach on it's banks. It was something much awaited by us, to play on the swollen river banks swarming with fish, crabs and an occasional water snake. And when the flood gates of Boothathankettu Dam were opened up due to overloading, the rain swollen river used to look menacingly beautiful.

Once when I was 7 years old, I went to play in the river accompanied by my mother. I started playing on the flooded stone steps leading to the river. As a child, I used to behave exactly opposite of what I was told to do .So when my mother shouted, 'Dont go further', I had this sudden inner urge to step forth. Involuntarily I took a few paces ahead . But there were no more steps... I fell into a deep gorge and was helplessly drowning in the river. My mother who never swam in her entire life time was forced to jump into the water and drag me out. Now the moment I was confirmed alive I got a good doze of scolding. Thus ended my trysts with the river. Never again during my childhood was I taken anywhere 1 km radius from the river. Even the mention of the word 'river' resulted in terrible outbursts in the form of scolding & threats!!! But then unknown to my family , I had eloped several times with my best friend to the river banks & plucked those tempting water lilies. That's entirely another story.

I remember the time when we went for Goa trip from college. That was one of our best tours. We stayed in a beautiful beach resort , which ensured that we spent a whole day on the sun-kissed sandy beaches of Goa. But the only kill-joy was our Sir who screamed at us, every time we attempted anything adventurous. So in the afternoon, we locked his door from outside when we went out :) We were frolicking in the sea, when out of blue, it started raining. It was not an ordinary drizzle; it was a heavy thunderous outpour.. And we delightfully stayed in the sea, while the heavens poured itself out. It was simply blissful...And the best part was, we were so far away from the shore, even crossing the danger zone, where a red pole was hoisted as warning.

These incidents surface my mind when I think about monsoon. Between, I am planning to buy the book 'Where the rain is born' compiled by Anitha Nair.It's a collection of stories about Kerala. The title of the book itself is too tempting for me...

Poonjar Diary

Posted by Flyaway Mind comments (16)

Last Saturday, I attended my friend's wedding mentioned in my last post. It turned out to be a sort of get together, meeting up with my old buddies. We 5 of us planned for a trip to Poonjar that evening. It had been 4 years back when we girls went to the same place and I remember it was one of our best trips. Poonjar with its enchanting rolling hills, dense dark rubber estates, gurgling streams and cascading waterfalls. Nature was simply at its best there.

Because of the sudden hartal in Alappuzha district, we had to take a train to Kottayam and from there 2 exhausting bus journeys before we could reach Poonjar. By the time it started raining heavily. Rain gods seemed to have no mercy on us and the sky was pouring out threateningly. We feared rain will play spoilsport on our trip. By the time the bus was climbing the long winding uphill roads of Poonjar, there was power failure. The whole village was enveloped in coal black except for the hurricane lanterns that flickered here and there. The heavy rains had caused some damage to the BSNL tower and we were literally cut out from the rest of the world. What a way to start our journey!!!!

At last we reached our destination. My friends uncle and his daughter were there waiting for us. And it was a long walk in the dark to reach their home, guided only by a torch light. We had to climb through the rocky path , cross a stream and a bridge to reach home. A worried aunty was there waiting for us (it was almost 8 pm. We were supposed to reach there by 6).There was nothing much we could do inside the house because of power failure. So we sat under the candle light sipping hot tea and munching chips, talking to our hosts . Aunty was an energetic sporty lady and soon we were plotting wild crazy plans. The power cut could not tone down our high spirits. We decided this was the best time to take bath in the stream. Soon, under aunty's leadership the girls army( including her daughter S) marched down the rocky tracks to hit upon the stream. The water was icy cold after the rain. S was a girl used to all the wild ways of nature and soon we found her dragging us and unsuspectingly pushing us into under-water pits. With a sinking feeling I found myself drowning & gasping. And for a brief moment, I had a glimpse of the happy life I may never live to see :-) With zero knowledge on swimming, I felt it was a wonderful creative game for people who are thinking of ending their life. But soon we turned crazy and was enjoying the drowning-game. We screamed and our voice echoing in the dark almost brought the whole village down there. In a way, it was good that there was no power.

After dinner, we were sitting out in the veranda. The first thing I noticed on reaching the house was the swing. It has been terribly long since I did swinging. And there I was swinging to my hearts content into the cloudy night sky. We played anthakshari. It was past midnight and the aunty surprised us by coming with glasses of black tea . She announced, "to keep you devils awake and croaking." Here was a lady who encouraged our craziness!!!! After we finished our activities and decided to hit the bed it was 3 am.

I had to literally pry open my eyes next day morning at 6. We went to explore the country side in broad day light. The streams looked beautiful set against the foggy misty hills . Our next destination was waterfalls in the nearby hill. There we trekked down the rocky tracks enclosed by dense dark rubber plantation.


The best part about the waterfalls was that, we had it all to our own. The waterfall was surrounded by rubber plantations belonging to uncle and hence was a secluded place inaccessible to public. It was our very own kingdom. Only the chirping birds & the dragon flies hovering over the water gave us company.We sat under the waterfalls, with the heavy splash of water drumming on our heads and almost intoxicating us. We splashed around the pool , tried the balancing-floating-act on water ,and even danced under the falls. Later we were sitting on the top of a boulder, drying ourselves in the sun & chatting lazily, when S came and started pushing us one by one. From the precarious edge of the rock, I fell, was momentarily air borne and then sank down into the stream below. It was an exciting adventurous feeling. We tried it several times later

We spent almost half a day there. And then it was time to return. We had a train to catch at 6 pm , to take us back from this heavenly abode to the corporate jungle

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