PUTHUKODE - Memories of a village:

 PUTHUKODE -

Memories of a village: seventy years ago

The Picture:

Every day when I wake up I see in my mind the picture of a little girl standing tiptoe at the top of a staircase, trying to cling on to the window- sill, to catch a glimpse of what lay outside. The Sun is about to rise behind the distant hills; the dark green paddy fields stretch up to the hills, with a thodu or canal cutting across, like a brown belt. On one side are brown hillocks with a few trees and shrubs. A well can be seen at the foot of the hills. On the whole it looks like a child’s drawing in the copy book in school!

To her wonderment, now the scene before her breaks into slow motion. The Sun grows bigger and brighter, slowly illuminating the paddy fields in a golden hue. The water is moving in bright ripples in the thodu. A breeze from nowhere (remember the breeze is depicted as a character in a well- known Malayalam film) nudges the paddy fields into a wave-like motion. The hill side is now dotted with colors of women drawing water, to a set rhythm.

This is a recurring theme that comes to mind when I relax or close my eyes. I often wonder---the beauty, the peace and the contentment radiating from that vision----is it just nostalgia or a signal for the future?

The Village: The place where this was happening is called Puthukode---a non- descript, quiet village in Alathur taluk of Palakkad (Palghat) district in Kerala, located 6 km west of Vadakkencherry on the Palakkad-Thrissur stretch of the National Highway 47, 40 kms, away from both Palghat and Thrissur towns.

Our Mother: It was in this village that our mother lived----spent her childhood, and passed on to her womanhood. Although, born in Manjapra, a village three miles apart, she was informally adopted by her foster parents -late Krishna Variyar and his wife Parukutty, who were issueless. The fact that she was good looking, and had a gentle nature, might have prevailed over them in doing so.

Although she adjusted admirably with the life in Puthukode, she yearned for the company of her siblings who were having a whale of a time in Manjapra, where laissez faire was the rule, as against her disciplined and well-ordered life in Puthucode. Her own mother occasionally visited her bringing her sweets and presents, but she mostly stayed with her foster parents.

Mother’s foster parents gave her the best education possible at that time (she passed the Intermediate exam). Girls were not given college education in those days. But she was well versed in Sanskrit. (She used to scold us children choosing chaste Sanskrit words!). She also learned to play violin.

When our mother came of age, many local suitors came forward to marry her. But Grandma didn’t like any of them. Finally, she found one---my father who had a noble profile, high education and a government job, although wealth- wise not up to their mark. It was grandma who chose her daughter’s bridegroom, not the bride herself!

After her marriage mother was pained to leave her foster parents. Soon she gave birth to children. When the first daughter was old enough, she was left to the care of foster parents. Thereafter, except in my own case and that of my youngest brother (we both were born in hospitals), mother returned for giving birth to her kids to Puthukode.

During 1954-55, our father left for England to pursue his Ph.D. We (mother and six children) were left in the care of our grandparents. We lived in Puthucode for little more than two years, and spent a memorable part of our childhood there.

Village Life: Puthukode at that time strictly followed the Chathurvarna. The agraharams close to the temple used to be occupied by Tamil Brahmins. They lived in closely built houses, with little space in between. The houses were built in such a fashion that one room opened to the next, length-wise. There were hardly any rooms on the side. Every house had a raised concrete platform in front wherein men used to while away their time. Some used to sleep there at night.

The Brahmin youth generally learned typing and short-hand and left for Bombay or Calcutta where they could easily find jobs. When marriage alliances were sought, the bridegroom’s parents proudly used to boast that” He is in Calcutta”- no one inquired as to what he did or how much he earned! Thus “Calcutta” became a status symbol.

The agraharams were separated from the rest of the village by compound walls with gateways (though they were open all the time). Families belonging to our community lived within a compound called Variam separated by a wall, or at stretches, by a fence of thorny bushes. Nairs occupied households just outside the Variam. Those belonging to the other caste groups lived beyond the hills.

Muslims were treated as untouchables. I still remember poor Muslim women standing in front of our house with fire wood bundles on their head. We could hand over coins to them only from a distance. We children in curiosity and defiance used to touch their hands while making the payments! Children have a way of reacting to injustices!

Life in the Varaiam Within the Variyam four families lived. The tharavadu (main family house) was called Akaii where the elders and their children’s families lived. The rest of the houses were occupied by families of near relatives. My mother’s foster mother (we called her Mattemma-the other mother)- let’s say Grandma for

convenience ----- lived in one of those houses.

Krishna Variyar built a double story house in a plot within the Variam compound. The adjoining smaller house was occupied by grandma’s sister and her family (matrilineal system wherein property was inherited through women prevailed at that time). In the house next to Grandma’s was where her mother’s sister (Cheriyamma) lived.

The house little away was owned by her brother’s family. Omana, Mony, Kocha and Vesa were his children. An Ayurveda pharmacy used to be run in the part of that house facing the market. Occasionally, we children enjoyed sipping Asavam, a concoction with high content of sugar and alcohol from there. We had to sometimes feign aches and pains just to get hold of a sip of that magic potion!

There were no walls between the houses, but only free open spaces. Among the houses, Akaii, being the main family house, stood out. It was not only large but beautifully made. There was hardly any furniture in the whole house. The red polished floors looked cool and smooth. Only the upper rooms were provided with beds. The most attractive place was Thalam, a large space used for dining.

 People used to sit in chaarupadi or seats made of polished wood all along, sometimes with back-rests. There was a platform paved with polished tiles where Valiyamma, the head of the family, used to be seated. Other elderly women used to cluster around her.

The Tank:

There was a common tank on one side of Akaii. You could go down to the tank from the front part of Akaii. There were stone steps going down to it. Mostly, outsiders used this entry. The other ghat (if it could be called that) could be approached from the back side. Here, the stone steps were wider, with gaps in some places. Those gaps were the permanent abodes of snakes and frogs. Occasionally, we found their glassy eyes staring at us, while we played in water.

Besides the most common water snakes -thin, long and agile, swimming with their heads raised- there were rat snakes and rattle snakes. Deadly snakes like Cobra, Viper and Krait could be found near dense bushes nearby. A variety of fish and frogs were permanent dwellers of the tank.

There were two other entry points to the tank----one for washing big vessels after feasts and the other for toilet use. The tank used to be cleaned annually. The water was also cleaned by several varieties of fishes. The water in the tank was therefore clean.

The Kavu & Surroundings: - In front of Akaii was a Kavu (sacred grove), a place for Naga (snake) worship. Every evening a lamp used to be lighted there. There stood a tree called Pavizhamally, (Coral Jasmine or Parijatha) with white flowers that had coral tinted tubes in the centre. The flowers opened at dusk and fell by dawn. The tree showered petals on the stone Gods and Goddesses in the Kavu, as if in a puja.

The Kavu was the hiding place for snakes, insects, salamanders and various other forms of life. It helped preserve rare plants. Unfortunately, all such Kavus which were part of Tharavadu (family) houses in Kerala, have all vanished.

In the front part of Akaii, there was a large space where we children played. I could still recall the large rocks present near the area. Near the main gate stood the long cattle shed where cattle were kept. Behind it was a very large Tamarind tree which provided plenty of shade, its fruits and flowers strewn all over the place.

The Variam compound hardly had any seasonal flowering plants. This was because Palghat could be very hot, especially in summer, due to the hot air passing from the Tamil Nadu side to Kerala through the ‘Palghat Gap’ in Western Ghats. Most of the time we stayed indoors during this time. Schools were run in morning shifts. However, there were some sturdy plants like Nitya Kalyani (Sada Bahar or Periwinkle) which grew near our well. At that time, we didn’t know that this humble plant has many medicinal uses (many of us do not know that two alkaloids present in this plant, i.e. vincristine and vinblastine are used in the treatment of certain blood cancers).

Shrubs like Hibiscus and Oleander (Thevitia) with bright yellow flowers grew near the back gate of the Variam. We had Sankhupushpam (Clitoria), a perennial climber with deep blue or white conch-shell like flowers, spread on the fence on the backside (it is considered to be a potent memory booster and brain tonic).

Coconut trees were sparse due to the extreme hot weather. However, Pana or Palmyra Palm grew well in Puthukode, dotting the entire landscape. More than 800 different uses of this plant have already been documented. Palmyra palm jaggery and sugar are quite famous. Toddy, a popular drink is prepared from the sap of the tree. Other trees like Jack fruit, Mango Fig etc. grew well, as in rest of Kerala. This was due to high rainfall received during the two monsoons.

The Market: The village market (Angadi) called Anchumuri (five shops) was located near the pharmacy.

Ordinarily we children were not allowed to go there, except for hair-cutting. It was 1/2 Anna for a complete shave and ¼ anna for bobbing (trimming). We happily opted for clean shave of the head. With the balance ¼ anna we purchased egg-shaped sweets which came in multi-colours, made of nothing, but sugar.

Once the sweet dissolved and disappeared in the mouth, we realized our folly---walking around with clean-shaven heads for a long time, while the others had a merry time at our expense!

People: Among those who lived in Akaii, Ammukutty aunty was the most formidable. We children were afraid of her. She used to crack jokes at our expense and made fun of us openly. Ammu aunty lived with her husband Ramettan, Vaidya of the Pharmacy and their two children Appu and Suma. Bala aunty was a spinster who spent her entire time devoted to temple duties. There was Ramettan, an elderly person, living in Akaii.

But the most interesting character was Kujukuttettan (the little big brother), who was an intellectual. Those who lived in the Variam enclosure hardly knew what lay beyond. But the left-leaning, community-minded intellect introduced us to the happenings outside- the first time we knew that there was a world outside our little village.

Every morning he used to read the newspaper loudly in front of Akaii where we used to assemble. His face used to become redder and redder, suffused with emotion when he read stories of wars and wants, and we listened spell bound.

Incidentally, he used to read loudly the letters from our father to mother! We learned about the Buckingham Palace, the British Museum, the Kew Garden, St Paul’s Cathedral etc. through those letters. No doubt, the Little big brother added colour and spice to the stories.

Grandma’s sister lived in the house next to ours. Her daughter was married to the local Village Officer. Since he was away from home most of the time her time was mostly spent in reading Painkili (female bird) novels, meaning light romantic nonsense, leaving the house work entirely to her mother and sister! (Incidentally, she could sing very well like a bird!) She used to respond in negative tones to even simple statements. If you complemented that her coffee was good, her reaction would be “oh, you think we don’t drink good coffee?”. She was a close friend of my mother. She was always very affectionate towards us. Her sister Santa was one of the most hard-working persons I have seen.

Her children Vijayam and Anandam were our close friends, and we spent the best part of our life in Puthucode with them. Chandran, their brother, was always quiet like his father. Once I left Puthukode, I never saw Anandam again. I came to know that Anandam went to Ghaziabad near New Delhi to work and got married to someone she liked. But we came to know to our great sorrow that she was killed or died, after a while.

In the other house, next to ours, lived old Cheriyamma, her sons, daughters and their families. The elder son Madhavan had two daughters Vijayam and Malathy and a son named Venu. His brother, Achuthan also lived in the same home. He had no children. Their youngest sister Ponnukutty was a familiar figure.

The girls were close friends of my elder sisters. Cheriyamma’s daughter Kochukutty was my mother’s friend. She had a daughter- Padma- and two sons Chandran and Ravi. Her husband at that time was employed elsewhere. So, the family did not permanently reside in Puthukode. Two cousins Venu and Chandran wandered about and played pranks on all of us, especially grandma.

Grandma: Our grandma was a woman of forceful character. She was bold and unafraid, and dominated over all other members of the Variam, whether young or old. She scolded, criticized and made fun of all of us children. So, we children were somewhat afraid of her. But we could see that she cared for us too. She was concerned when we were ill. She always used to give us something nice to eat. She used to react sharply to the pranks of Venu and Chandran, but in the evening she would call them aside and give them some food to eat.

One day, it so happened that she scolded Anandam left and right for some mischief she had done. The same evening, Anandam had a dance performance in the Panchayat. To our surprise we found grandma getting ready to witness the performance. She dismissed our taunts by saying “Anandam is going to dance as God Krishna. I am going to watch Krishna!” She walked all the way to the Panchayat!

Grandma was somewhat darkish in complexion. She wore a gold chain with beads (muthumala) and two thick gold bracelets which used to shine against her dark skin. Grandma wore only a dhoti at home. She did not cover the upper part of the body while at home. Only when she went outside she wore a small piece of cloth (Melmundu) across her chest. None of us were conscious about her not wearing a blouse. She herself was not bothered. This practice of not covering the upper part of the body could have been due to extreme hot weather there or due to social reasons*. Since all women, except the elderly women, wore blouses in the Variam, perhaps no social reason could be made out in grandma’s case.

Spreading news and telling stories—gossiping in other words-- were grandma’s forte, but her stories were never malicious (though some people called her Narada!). Once when all the day’s work was over she would set out in the evening, first spending time at Akaii, thereafter, moving towards the temple in a slow pace, stopping here and there, sharing news and extracting new stories, at the same time. She was Radio and TV combined! It would be quite late when she finally returned from the temple, exhausted. She provided much needed spice to our otherwise dull life with her lively presence and colourful stories.

Among the children in the Variam, Gangu, our elder brother, was the most prominent. He was fearless and always indulged in some heroic deed or the other. He saved our next-door aunty and her new born baby from a fire, carrying them through the fire on his young shoulders! He could easily climb any tall tree or on the top of any house. He could swim faster than others and excelled himself in all games. But he never wasted his time in studies! He was ready to help anybody any time. He was our hero.

Not only we children but Grandma too loved him dearly. He was an unborn son to her. He carried out every wish of hers. She carried tales of his adventures and escapades to one and all in her now famous evening sessions. Like a mother hen she defended all his actions. But not all adults were pleased with him and his activities. To them, he appeared wild and undisciplined.

Our Home When I look back it seems amazing the way Grandma kept her house. It was spic and span- not a speck of dust anywhere. No one could say that six children played about in the house.

The brass vessels arranged so neatly on a rack would shine like gold. The copper vessel in which drinking water was stored seemed to have a pink glow in the dark.

The water in the well on the backside was clear like a prism. It was periodically cleaned. Broomsticks were cut into long pieces, to be used as tongue cleaners. They were hung between two coir rings. The burnt rice bran used for cleaning teeth was hung neatly in a basket. So were the fire woods. Instead of stacking them, they used to be hung, balancing then on two coir rings, to avoid the presence of snakes and other crawling creatures. A small vegetable patch, clusters of banana trees, other fruit trees were looked after with great care by grandfather.

Apart from the front (open to outside) there were a corridor, a large hall, dining space, kitchen and veranda in the first floor of the house. The floors were polished. They were cool, smooth and shiny. As in Akaii, there was no furniture in the house, except two large beds. The upper part of the house had only a large hall, well- lighted and well- aired, for it had as many as six large windows providing cross ventilation. Both halls had attached urinals, although water had to be physically carried up by the helper to provide water in the urinals.

Our grandparents and the smaller children slept in the lower hall. The only available bed was used by grandfather. The rest of us slept on mats or mattresses. Mother and elder girls slept in the hall above. Only one bed was available there too.

Our mother used to stay with us for some time before we slept, telling us stories from the Mahabharatha and Ramayana. By the time she reached the place in Ramayana about the birth of Ram, we were all fast asleep. Next day she repeated the same story, and it used to reach the same spot. For quite some time we used to know only that part in Ramayana!

Toilets: Our grandma’s house had a pucca toilet! Ours was the only house in Variam to have a proper toilet. The ingenuity behind its construction needs to be appreciated. Ammama got dug a deep well and placed a cement platform with seats above, as in a modern toilet. It was constructed a little away from the House. In the Variam all others were using only kuccha toilets-pits dug in the soil, with logs across as seats and a mat cover.

We also had a good bathroom attached to the house, which was again a luxury. It was mostly used by mother before and after her deliveries. We all bathed in the tank next to Akaii.

It is now difficult to imagine that Ammama, who had no formal education, had designed the house, with a bathroom and toilet, along with attached urinals, way back in 1950’s.

Grandma’s Kitchen: Grandma allowed no one into her kitchen. The helper used to wash vessels, clean the house, grind coconut or masalas, pound dried paddy, but she was never allowed to work in the kitchen.

Cooking was a leisurely affair. The stoves in the kitchen were built very low. Grandma, therefore, used to sit and cook. Our food used to be simple. Grandma used to make rice along with tasty dals cooked with Amaranthus and again dals with vegetables.

Her masterpiece, however was Ada, a version of dosa made with coarsely ground rice and different dals. Cooking in fire lighted by firewood lent a special taste to the food cooked. Her Adas were glassy in appearance due to liberal use of gingelly oil (Til oil), and brittle when touched. The fragrance of Hing (asafoetida) and the hotness of red chilies penetrated the nose and the tongue. The hot Ada with the Vellom (jaggery) was a unique combination for breakfast.

I have tried many times to make the same Ada – but always unsuccessful. I tried to adjust the quantity of the ingredients, with no good results. Now I realize that the mystery ingredient in her Ada was nothing, but the love with which she cooked for us!

As was the custom all of us used to have our dinner before sunset. After lighting the evening lamps, we used to recite and learn by-heart multiplication tables etc. with great passion in loud voices (painful ‘like an arrow piercing an unhealed wound’ to quote Kunjan Nambiar, Malayalam poet), to the great annoyance of our neighbours.

Ammama:

Unlike grandma, our grandfather whom we called Ammama always remained silent. No one knew what was going through in his mind. He remained an enigma to us. At times, he looked annoyed at the mischiefs of my brother Gangu, though. He spent most of his time pottering about the house, ensuring that everything is in proper place and that there were no shortages; the lamps were cleaned and lighted. He used to attend to all minor repairs in the house. He was careful and meticulous in his work. He never wasted anything. He used the leftover pieces of wires in sparklers for mending the netted windows. He also used the old matchsticks to light the lanterns after the first one was lighted (electricity came to the village years later).

The village temple:

The central point of the village was the famous Annapoorneswari or Bhagavathy (Goddess) temple. It is said that sage Parasurama installed 108 Durga temples in many parts of India and this was one of them. We, of course, never knew of its importance at that time. Marriages and other social functions were held here.

One famous novelist in Kerala when asked about his belief in God said to have famously replied “I am not sure about my belief in God, but I have faith in my village Bhagavathy”.

In my last visit to the village, I noticed that the temple structure and paved stones really looked ancient, although efforts have been made to renovate the temple in parts. The best part of the temple was the Sreekovil (sanctum sanctorum) wherein the deity is installed. Unlike in other temples, the deity faces the west.

The four feet high idol looks serene and beautiful in the dim lights of the oil lit lamps, when pitch darkness surrounded the inner temple, just after dusk. No wonder the deity is called Santha Durga, residing as peace in all beings (Santhi rupena samasthita). Even if you are not religious, you feel oneness with everything around, in its mystical surroundings.

The temple was always bustling with activity, for, the four villages (agraharams) in four different directions -North, East, South and West- radiate from this central point.

Men clustered around the temple. Children played in the outer ring (Parikrama). We used to quarrel with other children to pick up coconut pieces while breaking coconuts as offering to the Devi. Happily, that tradition still continues!

Women visited the temples both in the mornings and evenings. It was a relief for them to get out of their closed living spaces, exchange gossips or news, admire each other’s get up and clothes or last but least, pray to the Goddess!

The Temple Festival:

The nine-day Navaratri festival used to be celebrated with great aplomb. The four villages fully participated, taking turns. We used to climb on to the raised stone platforms on either side near the temple- entry, just to touch the elephants.

We used to watch Ottamthullal performance in the temple --- a recite--and--- dance art-form of Kerala which was introduced in the eighteenth century by Kunchan Nambiar, one of the three famous Malayalam-language poets. The performance was often laced with humour and satire, intended at criticism of society.

For example, while mentioning about Hanuman, he used to point his finger at one of us and say” ---Hanuman had a face like that of the boy sitting in the first row” --- to merriment of all those present. We were all afraid of becoming buts of his jokes and sharp satire.

The celebrations were followed by temple feasts. Red rice with ghee and Pulinkary (a kind of Sambar) used to be served. Puthukode Pulinkari which is served with rice and Olan (Ash Gourd and green chilies cooked in coconut milk) was unique to the Navarathri Sadya.

My memory is that large pumpkin pieces used to float in the Sambar along with brown fenugreek seeds and the gravy tasted sweet with lightly added Gur (jaggery). Nowhere else have I tasted sweet wholesome Sambhar like this.

Siva Temple:

At the end of North Village is a Siva temple. A temple tank on the backside, looked cool, dark, deep and placid reminding one of the mind of Brahma (Mansarovar). We, as children, were afraid of visiting the temple after dusk, as it used to be dark and deserted.

Festivals

We used to look forward to celebrating festivals, especially Onam. In olden days it was celebrated for all ten days.

Onam is indeed a harvest festival. Onam was very much in the air, well before the arrival of the festival days. Onam preparations were made well in advance-collecting freshly harvested paddy, bananas, pumpkins and cucumbers, frying chips, making achars or pickles, buying clothes and gifts for everyone.

Both adults and children enjoyed the festivities alike.

Come Thiruvonam, the main festival day, we all used to get up at 3 am in the morning, darting straight to the pond, for a dip, without bothering about our reptilian and amphibian friends. The whole nature would then be shrouded in silver, in the pale light of the rotund moon in the sky (the main Onam falls on a full moon day). Water in the pond would be ice- cold. Thereafter, we would start making flower decorations to welcome the Netherworld monarch Mahabali, the great king who was just and fair and brought prosperity to one and all, during his golden rule.

There was much competition as to whose floral decorations were the best. After visiting the temple, we would be ready for a sumptuous meal called Sadya. It was always a community affair----collective cooking, serving and eating, which made it all the more enjoyable.

But during Onam festival, the Thalam (a large area) in Akaii became a dance floor for performing Kaikottikkali, a dance form where women moved in circles, clapping their hands in unison. They danced to songs mostly from Mahabharatha. Parukutty Ammai took the lead. She used to sing loudly and forcefully, “Land even for pricking a needle will not be granted to the Pandavas, said Duryodhana”- singing and thrusting the line repeatedly, increasing the pace of dancing.

Soon they would start twirling speedily in circles to the great enjoyment of the onlookers from different communities, who watched them.

We children were never allowed to participate because of the nuisance we created. Nevertheless, we used to charge into the ring to the great annoyance of the dancers, who then used their foot as well to gently kick us out of their circle!

Today Onam celebrations have become mechanical, confined to TV or state- organized functions. But in those days, people like us start celebrating it in our minds – very inexpensive and much more satisfying way of doing it! The ghosts of those women dancing round and round rhythmically often comes to mind during Onam days.

We celebrated other festivals too like Thiruvathira (a women-oriented festival), Deepavali, Navaratri, Shivaratri with great gusto. Women regularly observed Ekadasi and did fasting. None of the Variam residents were therefore overweight or obese.

Sivaratri was memorable, for, the elders were to remain awake during the whole night. We children performed dramas and dancing during the night on the make-shift stage on the tiled platform in front of Akai.

On one such Sivaratri night, I was supposed to dance carrying a doll. I was fast asleep when my turn came. My sisters dragged me to the stage and thrust the doll in my hand. I am not sure what I did. Next day, I found some of those who attended it expressing their sympathy! Refreshed after a full night’s sleep I was angry that my sisters did not allow me to remain awake during the previous night!

Schooling The story of Puthukode will be incomplete if no mention is made of our schools. We had two schools---the Sarvajana High School of older students and a primary cum middle school, privately owned and managed. I studied in the latter school.

The Sarvajana (Public) School provided good quality education at low cost to the students. Besides academic education, they also involved the students in singing dancing and dramas. My elder sisters and brother studied there.

I remember once, on the occasion of the school anniversary, I was made to dress like a little prince in bright yellow satin dress and made to sit in the lap of the King (one of the girls dressed up to play the part). I slept soundly in her lap till the dialogues were over. I was rewarded with lime juice and my favourite lemon-toffees.

In the second school, the primary sections were run in a large open hall. 4-5 classes were run here. There were no walls or partition between the classes. Benches which were kept in a square faced the teacher and her table. The teachers were women from the Manager’s family. They all lived in the same house.

As soon as the classes started, one of the teachers would tell at the other loudly “I have kept dal and vegetables on the stove. Please go and check if they are cooked”. The second teacher immediately proceeded to the kitchen after giving some simple sums to the little students, to keep them busy, in the meantime.

Time passed. The teacher was not back. The worried second teacher follows the first one, she too gave some work to the children. Just after that the children in the two classes sans their teachers start playing happily. Annoyed, the third teacher comes to manage the unruly students, by which time the children of her own class would get restive.

The fourth teacher, in the meantime, goes to call the earlier two. The only teacher in the hall is helpless before the children who start pouring out into the ground to play. This happened very often, for the teacher’s concerns were chiefly domestic! Nevertheless, the informality of the class room was a big relief to us children, who were reluctant to remain within closed doors.

There were certain good things about the school too; one was its morning prayer which was an adaptation of a poem by Narayana Guru, the great social reformer of Kerala. It ran something like this— “Thou who has beautifully decorated the universe, and in it lit a lamp of eternal bliss, Thou the ultimate light (Parama Prakasam) that shines as a beam in the heart of every atom, we surrender to thee”.

The second good thing about the school was distribution of a glass of tasty and nourishing milk to every child, courtesy CARE. Never have I drank such a good quality milk anywhere.

Third was the dancing lessons they gave. The songs were mostly adopted from poems of great romantic poets like Changampuzha Krishna Pillai; they still echo in our hearts.

Our Father:

One fine afternoon my class teacher told me that the manager was calling me. I felt nervous. I was afraid of the elderly manager who was big and obese and had a large round chubby face. He had a big paunch too. He used to lie with his eyes closed, with a half-smile playing on his lips, in an arm chair which could barely hold him, in the front part of his house- cum- office. He appeared to me like a laughing and sleeping Buddha combined!

From a distance I could see that someone looking like an Englishman was sitting with him and beckoning me towards him. I hesitated and ran away from there. My brother later teased me that I passed urine while standing there, out of sheer fear of the manager! On reaching home, I found out that our father had just come back from England.

Back to Trivandrum:

It was time for us to accompany our father to Trivandrum where he worked. I was sad to leave Puthukode and be parted from my loving grandparents. They both specially liked me and called me “Ponnukutty” or “the golden girl “simply because I was obedient, shy and serious-minded.

I volunteered to stay back. But within a few days I acutely felt the separation from my siblings, especially Lalitha and Unni, with whom I used to play most of the time. I never took out my new clothes. I was not interested in anything. I could now understand what my eldest sister, and before that, my own mother felt when they were separated from their families in childhood. My grandparents were quick to respond. On their insistence, I re-joined my family.

Our connection with Puthukode continued though, as our father ensured that we spent our school vacation with our grandparents. They used to look forward to our going there. Grandma used to collect butter daily from milk and make it into ghee for us when we came. She made delicious (and nutritious) green gram ladoos for us.

Demise of Grandparents:

Years rolled by. One day Ammama was taken very ill. He had congested chest and breathing problems. Within a few days he passed away. Grandma was left alone. But she continued to live alone. She had her own family for help and support. She didn’t heed to my mother’s pleas to stay with her.

But a time came, when she no longer could live alone. Grandma sold her house for a sum of Rs. 8000/- to her favorite niece Kochukutty. My mother took nothing from her. She gave the gold mala to Bala Chechi who was still a spinster. I do not know to whom she gave her bracelets.

Gangu physically carried her up to a car near the gate in Puthukode and brought her by car to Trivandrum to live with us. I was getting married at that time. I was fortunate that she could attend my wedding and bless both myself and my husband.

A few weeks later she expressed her desire to go back to Manjapra, her late husband’s home and spend rest of her time there. She could not adjust to urban life with its noise and speed. She made only one request-to me --to send her Rs 100/- every month, which I did till she died, a few months later.

Grandma was fiercely independent till her last. My cousins who looked after her complained that she had brought with her everything she needed for daily use, including coffee and sugar! One day she fell ill. Within a day or two she passed away. Gangu performed her funeral rites. I was away in a distant land at that time “centered in the sphere of my duties”. I could not meet her before she died. I wondered what kind of thoughts would have passed through her mind at the time of her death, with no loved ones near her. This childless woman had lived for others.

More than my own mother, grandma influenced us profoundly. Her zest for life, fearlessness, love and concern for all, stoical acceptance of adversities, self-discipline and self-dependence, cleanliness, perfection in carrying out tasks, happiness in small things and deep understanding of human nature left indelible imprints in us.

When I make Ada, I remember her!

I have often thought why the elders, especially elderly women, in the Variam were obsessed with the thought of death. They used to mutter all the time “Anayasena Maranam, bina dainyena Jivitham’ (‘easy life and easy death’, for short). They used to sing “Born as human into the midst of this hellish ocean of life, O’ Lord Shiva salvage me (from it)”. Both grandma and Ammama had their wishes fulfilled---both had easy deaths.

In the western world, life is celebrated in every way, whereas, here in India we think of it as doomed from the very beginning. The elders quietly accepted life as given to them; they never dared to challenge it. After a certain age they had nothing much to do. There were few options in their closed life, from which they had no escape.

Puthukode after grandma:

With the demise of grandma, I slowly lost my touch with Puthukode. About ten years ago, I visited Palghat. I felt like visiting Puthucode. It was with a shock that I noted the changes. Akaii was demolished- every part of it sold bit by bit. In its place a monstrous modern building had come up. The cowshed was gone. The kavu was in a neglected and deplorable condition. The tank was full of weeds, but the vegetative growth and greenery around it remained.

The house in which Ammu aunty devoured her Painkili novels was transformed into something unrecognizable. There lived one of the nephews of grandma who was old and sick, but his wife was in better health.

Grandma’s home stood there silent. It was locked and no one was living there. I was told that it was sold to a Muslim family. It would have been unthinkable in earlier days. The only place unchanged was Pathayappura, home of Grandma’s aunty.

I met our great little brother. He was living in a house within the North village. He spoke enthusiastically about the work he did for the environment and the seminars he organized. He proudly showed me the library run by him and others. Vijayam Chechi was a teacher in the local school. She retired, but was unmarried.

The Siva temple, including the temple tank, was seen renovated. It is one place which has remained the same.

Many in Agraharam died or left the village seeking better lives. Some of the houses were locked or were in decaying condition.

I visited Puthucode again twice- once in 2018 with my cousins and the second, in 2019, along with my sisters and brothers.

During our last visit when we reached the Variam we all eagerly moved towards grandma’s house. We were stupefied to discover that it no longer was there! A few stone bricks for new construction were scattered here and there. We were told that Chandran who grew up with us had re-purchased it and was planning to build a new house.

I tried to convince myself that change is the law of Nature. Our grandparents were gone. Many others who lived near us too left the world. Some migrated to other cities (not to Calcutta anymore!). We too have settled elsewhere. We were not going to live in that house anymore. Chandran certainly was entitled to make a house, according to his taste, convenience and resources.

Everything had changed whole sale in Puthukode. Little big brother and Vijayam Chechi now lived in small housing units---part of a complex built next to the Temple, breaking the age- old Agrahara tradition. Others from the Variam had also joined them. They felt safe, secure and independent. A new way for the joint family -alone but together!

By this time little big brother had developed Alzheimer’s disease. His wife was constantly complaining about the difficulty in managing him.

Happily, for me, my friend Vijayam settled in Majapra along with her ex-Army husband. Her son was honoured with Vishisht Seva Medal for outstanding work in the Air Force. We came to know that Suma’s daughter had, some time ago, became qualified as an Air-Force pilot, but could not join due to technical reasons.

All of who used to loiter about in the Variam compound had reached somewhere in life, and contributing to society, in our own ways.

Future: Experience has taught me what to expect in life. I could foresee that in the distant future, the Agrahara will vanish. In its place shopping malls and posh offices may come up. All independent houses in the Variam may give place to multi-storied buildings. Anchumuri market will expand and devour our little Vaidyasala. The Village tank will be filled up to erect new concrete structures. Our dear friends---- snake, fish and frogs--- will be crushed by the weight of machines. The beautiful Pavizhamalli tree would be mercilessly cut and thrown away. All trees and bushes would give place to lawns and swimming pools.

I tried to convince myself scientifically- that according to laws of Physics, anything once disrupted cannot go back to the previous state---which is called Entropy ----and that the arrow of time goes only forward.

My Dream What about the recurring scene that I dreamt in my wakefulness? Now I know that it was now only a symbol of the past; no longer an inspiration for the future. No one could express my feeling more beautifully than Wordsworth, the nature poet in his famous poem Ode to Immortality*.

                          “--There was a time when meadow, grove and stream,

                           The earth, and every common sight,

                               To me did seem

                               Appareled in celestial light,

                              The glory and the freshness of a dream.

                                It is not now as it hath been of yore; -

                            Turn wheresoe'er I may,

                                By night or day,

                               The things which I have seen I now can see no more... ---

 Note: - 1. Not many people know that in Kerala, for a long-time lower caste woman were forbidden from covering their chests. Between 1813 and 1859, women belonging to the Nadar community fought for their right to cover their chests like Savarna (high caste) women, in what came to be known as the Channar revolt. In the year 1956, for the first time, a group of 23 women walked towards Velur temple, in Trissur district, wearing blouses. They belonged to different castes and included the oppressed castes.

2. It is interesting to note that until 1924 a breast tax was imposed on the lower caste and untouchable Hindu women by the Kingdom of Tranvancore in Kerala, if they wanted to cover their breasts in public.

3. William Wordsworth Ode: Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood