Uplifting Aquatic Journeys

Summer vacation to the village was a double bonus for us children who stay in Kumbakonam  with our parents for our schooling. Our hearts would jump with joy  just with the  imagery of the trip. The delight of living in a big team  for a whole month and a half  and enjoying the waters was the high light of the vacation.

 At Kumbakonam the bath from the well was an effort and unless dad volunteered to hoist the bucket through the pulley and drench us with a copious 'water fall' of buckets. Otherwise  it was a monotonous obligation.

The vacation started in right earnest as we cross the river Kollidam. Amma would make it interesting by preparing tamarind rice and curd rice with potato fry and pickles very early in the morning. A short journey by bus (whose sides would be drenched up with our 'family vomiting spree') would land us on the banks of the river and to our waiting bullock cart. The bullock cart filled with hay and covered with a mandatory old bed sheet was capable of  bringing out any left overs in the stomach. The only advantage was that unlike the bus the person can jump down and vomit to his heart's content and run along the vehicle! The coracle (a small round boat made of wickerwork covered with a watertight material, propelled with a paddle) would be missing during the summer when water just flowed to allow the children unattended to drift along. Sitting in the knee deep cool waters and relishing delicious rice in the palms was  an ecstasy! And this was the first part of the double bonus! The empty bullock cart accompanying us through the waters made it a happy occasion for the bulls too sans the  human load.

The moment  we approached  the village  we jumped off the cart and  join our cousins, the welcome party waiting right at the little dried up Ponnaru river and  ran  behind the cart in gay abandon  along with them till we reached the home. The second part of the double bonus was our grand group trip to the Pappakulam( our village tank) waters!

During summer when water was scarce the tank was a protected area. The pond water was utilised not only for bathing but cooking  and other purposes too. There was a separate tank from where we could bring the drinking water even though the colour of the water resembled a light variation of  South Indian coffee! There were separate guards for both the tanks. The bathers who use the Pappakulam tank were warned not to dirty the water and clear out as quickly as possible. Every day around eleven when  we plan the bathing trip our grand mother would warn us to use the toilet and never ever to urinate while bathing. " If ever you do it the Lord will reprimand you on the Great Judgment Day and order you to separate the urine from water which you can never do. And Lucifer who is waiting in the wings will  take you straight unto the depth of hell."

 The fear of Lucifer rather than that of the Lord made us use our gully (no toilets then! Thank you!) before we entered Pappakulam. The guard usually was a known person. As he reached our steps of the tank he would enquire about  our arrival and the general welfare of the family and smilingly warn us to bathe quickly and not to play in the water to which we would nod with great reverence. But the moment he was out of sight the brass pots brought in fill the water on return trip home would be turned upside down to become the learner's  swimming floatation device! Pushing the ten pots into the water with both hands on it, the twenty  free legs  readily  struck the water with great vengeance  competing for the maximum sound! The little girls formed another group and fought for the biggest bubbles with their skirts!  From the reeds the small fish would join the game with their tiny little bites into the flesh! From the  nearby steps my uncle would perform the magic of floating in the waters folding both his hands in a 'Namaste' posture ! From there he would reach the other end and  pluck a single pink lily and holding it with both his hands  would float again back! He deserved a big clap and we indeed did it with great gusto! The guard would rush from the other end and would threaten us in his raised his voice to clear out of the waters failing which we had to face of the dire consequence of getting scolded by the elders! But we knew that this was for a public show to prove that he was not partial to any one in particular. Heart in heart he knew that these were the ones who would coax their mothers to give a  good meal  for his night dinner! A great example of a symbiotic relationship!!

Even though Kollidam was not far away from our village the visit was a rarity since the unwritten rule was that at least a few adults should accompany this care free group. But with Pappakulam  at your beck and call  for hours together no one was ready to request the elders for the river trip since they had to abide with their 'unethical' rules and conditions  especially the timings!

Even today  the temptation  to get into this Pappakulam waters is great but the avaricious Panchayat (the village admin committee) sort of negated the lure by converting it to a tank to grow fishes and make money. The stench of decaying vegetable and other feeds and  keeps you off!  I wish and hope that some good soul would bring  back our beloved Pappakuam tank to its past glory!

 It was destined that for all the atrocities committed in the Pappakulam tank  that I should go solo into the waters. There was no mud in these waters, no small fishlings  biting your flesh. It was a  sanitised and chlorinated one (on a day to day basis.) Yes the swimming pool at Singapore was my monopoly since I was the jobless person around the four apartment block where we lived. Even though I could do the magic of floating in the water with folded hands like my uncle the ache for the claps and adulations and laughter of the village tank .....continues to sit stubbornly at a corner of my heart!

It is a very rare spectacle to see the seventy plus passionately to get together every year. The PSG 1965 batch does it very religiously every year! These accomplished engineers make sure they are accompanied by their spouses and sometimes their children and grand children too! The annual event for this year was at  Mysuru  arranged beautifully by  a colleague and his whole enthusiastic family! The first day's morning programme was a visit to Thala Kad where we were promised a good bath in River Kaveri. I was overjoyed. Alighting from the bus the  gang walked to the river. I threw my  towel and slippers at the bank and right royally walked into the waters! It was only after some time I realised that I was alone and none of the ladies were into that game! They were watching the river from the banks as if it was a rare exhibit! I turned around and looked. There were just a measly number of men who could be spotted in the waters!  Though it was bit of an embarrassment  to start with I promised myself a good time what come may and there I was floating around folding my hands to my heart's content!!

One among the gang was commenting that soaking too much into the water was not good for the muscles at the old age but the rustic Pappakulam  swimmer cared a heck and her mind was all set to maximise the joy  in the cool sparkling  Kaveri water!!

Longest Hedge to protect the Lowliest Crystals

In a Tamil movie, a granite merchant would compare his stones with diamond saying that big stones like his bring little money while small stone s(diamond) bring big money. We Indians were caught up in a controversial whirl pool of the small stone Kohinoor the whole of April 2016.  While the government was arguing that it was gifted to the British  by the ruler of Punjab, Dulip Singh, for helping him in the Sikh war there were umpteen numbers who claimed that it was  stolen by the British.  As if  this does not suffice Afghanistan and Pakistan too make a claim on that stone as their own!

Without going into dispute of a valuable diamond, it is a proven fact that the British indeed had the acumen to change even  worthless stones of India into a biggest cash cow. What are those worthless small stones of India?

It is indeed an interesting story and I will start at the very beginning!

All of us know the importance of salt for a normal human existence.

It was believed that at some point of the Roman regime the Roman soldiers were paid their salary by salt and the word salary itself is derived from salt. Jesus said " You are the salt of the earth"   The Tamil poets too eulogized the importance of salt by declaring that a food without salt is to be thrown out as a worthless item.

You may wonder where I am heading to recounting the significance of salt. The small stones I mentioned before relate to this little white salt crystals. The salt which was taken for granted  in  Indian food, which had no innate power to affect any one's budget  became a profitable trading item in the hands of the British East India Company replenishing its coffers to 10% of the total revenue!

The modus operandi  to get this cruel revenue from the wretchedness of the Indians was an unanticipated deed from the people of a supposed to be a civilized nation.

All of us would have heard about the Great wall of China, measuring about 8850 odd kilometers long, constructed by the Chinese emperor  to prevent the Mongols from invading China. The Adrian wall by the Romans from North Sea to the Irish Sea was  built to prevent the Picts of North Scotland from invading into England occupied by them measured 117 km. And the Berlin wall  which divided Germany into two to prevent emigration was 140 km long. But could  you imagine a wall as long as 4000 km, a wall in North India which was called the Great Hedge of India otherwise known as Indian Salt Hedge?

 This Salt Hedge was created to avoid smuggling of salt from one part of the country to the other.

When the British East India Company which came into India to promote its trade metamorphosed  into the conquering Company most part of North India came under its control and along with it the salt planes of Gujarat Bengal and Orissa too. Many  check points with long stretches of bushes between them were created throughout North India. What started as a fence with made of dead, thorny material such as the Indian plum eventually evolved into an impenetrable living hedge that grew up to12 feet (3.7m). The scale of this man made barrier and its impact on the lives of millions of people were indeed beyond words

 The exorbitant  rate at which salt was taxed by the British East India Company could be gauged by this comparison: While the rich and prosperous UK citizens paid 1.5pounds per maund of salt, the poor and needy  Indians were compelled to pay 20 UK pounds per maund (1 maund is 37.3 kg). To simply put it an ordinary labourer had to spend two months of his salary for buying the salt for his family!

Due lack of iodine and the vital necessity of salt for the blood system people took ill. An estimated 15 million persons had died due to paucity of salt in their food.   The first cholera pandemic  began in Bengal, and then spread across India and another 23 million died.

This unnecessary sacrifice of human lives was due to the avaricious and greedy attitude of the British in a colonial exploitation. South India escaped this wrath since the system of the toll collection through the check points was abolished by the time the British occupied the place.  The British instead imposed a tax on salt  which prompted the Dandi March by Mahatma Gandhi.

Remnants of this malicious, impenetrable tree wall could be seen in UP even today !

While there is  a fight over our own Kohinoor diamond, millions of Indians sacrificed their lives for the sake of our own little salt crystals!

While we ask for the return of the Kohinoor diamond  how are we going demand a reparation for this colossal  loss?

A Tenant and the Unwritten Laws

It was the fag end of 1970s. We had left Calcutta for good in anticipation of a new life and career in Madras. And we were on the lookout for a rented house closer to the schools for our children which limited our search circle to the Santhome area. Flats were a rarity then. Ground floor and the first floor was the order of the day. "Please make sure that you document everything. Most of the Madras house owners are finicky and they can beat the British constitution with their  unwritten rules. While the EB charges an amount per unit the owners' rates may be double the amount . And common light charges may be added to your account or if it is connected to theirs they will have a time limit to switch it off. They will own the gate key and beyond 10 pm the gates of heaven would not be opened unless you make a special request on very rare occasion. The members in the house would be numbered and any guests would be  under the watchful eyes of the house owner.

 'Beware of those Unwritten Rules' " Our friends emphasised  again.

My elder sister, a veteran tenant, shifting 12 houses before she settled down at her own place at Pammal had great many stories on the  authoritativeness, illogical animosity and jealousy amongst the  house owners who were to be tackled not with your righteous and logical mind  but the tactical and cunning  one! I will write a separate blog on her funny experiences. But as of now we were on our house hunt with a person who called himself a broker par excellence. Our hunt would start in right earnest after breakfast continuing till the afternoon siesta of our broker. The evening session would again start till the time we part for the day when the broker would start  scratching  his head with a sly smile on the countenance. We Calcuttans of 10 years took days to fathom this Madras symbolism for daily baksheesh!

Many of the places shown by our dear broker were either for Brahmins or vegetarians or people in government jobs. We came to realise that he was procrastinating the whole show and sternly warned him that we had no other option but to engage another person. But he promised us that the house he was going to show tomorrow would be his last one. Keeping our fingers crossed we  went to the place. The gentleman had built the first floor to replenish his income since he retired very recently.  We went into the details  and a pukka document was made for 11 months with an advance of 10 month's rent. We were happy with all the written rules, still in dark about the unwritten ones !

 It was indeed a late night when each one of our item found a place in the new location. Next morning, we were deep in slumber when there was a knock on our door in the first floor.

 "What have I done wrong to get such a early morning knock?"  Confused I hurriedly walked to meet the lady standing there  and accosted her with an enthusiastic 'Good morning' as my best weapon!

"You must be tired of  arranging things. So don't worry about the breakfast. I have brought it for you "The land lady  smilingly  handed me a vessel full of  steaming idlis  with sambar and coconut chutney as accompaniments!

"'To provide breakfast for the tired tenant-'Is it one of the unwritten rule  for this owner?!" I wondered.

And many such unwritten rules followed suit in this wonderful rented  place.

On Sunday evenings the house reverberated  with the spirituals from  the greats like Tennessee Ernie Ford. Then we came to know that the man of the house was a big wig of HMV (His Masters Voice, the gramophone record company) and loved music!

Those were the days when  very few owned TV sets and our dear owner was one of them. The only movie for the week in DD (Door Darshan, the government owned television station) was on Sunday evening and we were invited us to  his place to view the same . What started as a TV viewing metamorphosed into communal meals and the children of both the families thoroughly  enjoyed themselves. And it is a happy news that the same bonhomie continues among them till this day !

"To entertain the tenant- Was it another unwritten rule?"

We bought our own TV   after a while but the emptiness of watching  the DD movie without the gang hit us hard as with the people down!! We were really sad to break that unwritten rule!

The couple had a big family of one son and seven daughters all married and I was fondly introduced to all the friends and guests as the eighth daughter of the house!

It was the norm that whenever coconuts were plucked from the trees around the house they would be sent up in right earnest for our use.

Another unwritten rule!

The advent season was  a big bonus to all of us in the house as uncle Thangaiah welcomed it with rare carols from individual singers as well as  various choirs including King's college choir on his LP player!

Christmas was an occasion when most of the daughters gather in the house and the way uncle and all his sons in law get themselves suited and booted  for the night service used to fascinate us!

Christmas get together at our house was a thing a of great joy for both the families. Our extended host’s family combined with the equally talented uncle's family  recreated the magical spirit of sharing  with songs, plays, games concluding the day with a sumptuous dinner!

Our daughter was a great admirer of uncle from the day he played a record in which the comedy actor  Danny Kaye was narrating  funny stories. After more than 3  decades she could go through the stories word for word with all of the actor's enthusiasm ! 

Uncle never trumpeted his achievements  in the field of music. It is great news for us that all the Christian songs came to the fore because of his unrelenting efforts to bring them under the HMV banner! Till we saw his photo album we didn't know that he was so well connected with all the big shots of film and music industry.

In his photo album The HMV Man  could be seen  with the Congress chief minister Kamaraj, chief minister and  actor MGR, today's Tamil Nadu chief minister  Jayalalitha,  AVM Meiyappa Chettiar of AVM studios  yester year's one and only ever green heroine Saroja Devi, the great Sitar maestro  Pandit Ravi Shankar, cricketer  Farook Engineer  the queen singer P. Suseela and the highly talented T.M. Soundara Rajan and so many others.

When many a high ranking  retired personnel ache and mourn over the power and authority they enjoyed during  service, uncle Thangaiah rejected many offers within India and abroad which could have made him a millionaire. Instead  he opted for a simple and contended life enjoying his music, his organ playing in the church. The afternoon after lunch session in the verandah with  fried ground nut routinely delivered by the cart vendor along with his dear wife Stella auntie followed by  paan chewing and a small siesta and back to his music was more valuable to him than tall the riches of the world!!

Uncle died in 2008 at the age of 92. At his death bed when his health failed, memory sagged and speech blurred, his relationship with his beloved music never ever slumped. His fingers were still playing to the great  music flowing within him !

On Sunday 'Hindu' newspaper the photo of uncle Thangaiah and Stella auntie on his 100th birth anniversary opened up  the flood gates of memory and  hence this blog of love affection and admiration!

What else can we do for the owners of our rented house whose innumerable  unwritten rules  has bound us in love and happiness?

We have created a  strong relationship by bringing in  a girl from that beloved house into our family and wish that the progeny respect and revere those great values to create a fertile lives for themselves!