A Vibrant Highway of Many Dimensions

What is there in a road you may wonder?

NH 45, the highway between Chennai and Trichy, is an entirely different experience for us, the regular travellers!

NH45's starting point is Chennai and it extends up to Theni  though our journey ends at Trichy, the Rockfort city.

Those were the days of narrow roads when without breaking a coconut to a small but powerful temple in the where about of Chengalpattu,  a safe journey was never assured.  Our driver would collect these the needed items for pooja even if he forgot to fill the tank and the  additional  can of petrol ( when petrol pumps were almost non-existent and even the measly ones didn't have the stock!)  It was another story that once in the process of filling up the tank from can he sucked in quite an amount  petrol (used to suck the petrol with a small hose) which created an emergency situation and we had to rush him to a clinic which was hard to find in the god forsaken place! But the good news is that he survived the ordeal of pumping out that precious liquid off his tummy (not usable anymore!)  and today lives healthy and happy with his cattle and children! 

Coming back to the small yet powerful temple, the thronging crowd of devotees made up of the vehicles queue up till the obeisance was done by each driver to the fullest satisfaction of the goddess.  In spite of this time tested ritual one can witness five to six trucks turned turtle  to the accompaniment of  occasional smashed up smaller ones on a journey!  'Dangerous curves slow down please' and ''very dangerous' curves slow down please' created no fear unto those drivers minds. Like the ten commandments of the Lord these were ignored by all and sundry  and instead  steadfast  hope was positioned  in the tested and proven Indian fatalism!

 There were plus points too. Though the yesteryear roads were narrow the age old tamarind  trees  formed  beautiful welcome cave  all through the journey so much so one can wind  down  the car windows to get the assured cool breeze. And a small picnic among the groves of either a breakfast or a lunch or a snack and coffee was an enjoyable event!

On that particular day as  we traveling from Chennai my eyes couldn't believe what they witnessed.  Those huge tamarind  trees being  sawed off with the help of big machines! I was in tears . It was atrocious. It was similar to the shivers that ran   through my nerves when I watched in the TV the cruelty at  Bamiyan in Afghanistan  where those beautiful Buddha statues were dynamited due to religious orthodoxy.

It was  little solace when my dear husband pointed out to the saplings being planted off the roads with proper tree guards and the explanation that sacrifice in some form had to be made for growth and development. In this case it was a four lane roads for our comfortable travel!  That trip was indeed a sad one!

Now we go through the luxury of four lane roads paying through the nose at the toll gates of NHAI. It is heartening to see the  plants growing up to  trees. The median is a blossom of  red pink and white  oleander  plants.  And since the saplings were just growing up  the other items by the roadside attract me.

For one thing the name of the hotels throughout the journey fascinate me. Apart from the ubiquitous  Vasantha Bhavans, Sangeethas, Balaji Bhavans and the mushrooming Adayar Anandha Bhavans, the creative and the imaginative ones thrill me. Starting from hotel Pattikadu. saappida vaanga , Mappillai hotel, (bridegroom hotel ) keda kari virunthu, (young lamb feast) naattukozhi samaiyal, (country chicken cooking) Mamiyar hotel (mother in laws hotel) Sona Meena  3 idlis ( what if you ask for more than three?! will they come in threes only nothing less or nothing more?! ) Haritham hotel at the 100th km and the all-pervading Kumbakonam degree coffees in their various avatars  make the journey appealing .One lodge in particular near Perambalur is named ‘Rani Thangum Edam’ (place where the queen stays) and I wonder whether the king can stay along with the queen.

Religious fervour abound throughout our journey. The first striking point as we travel from Chennai is the   Melamaruvaththur Adhi Parasakthi Peetam, with  its own reddish tinge. During the festival season we have to anticipate a heavy traffic jam amidst the  sea of  the red saris and  dhotis  which could beat  a trade union congress of  Kerala in that vibrant shade! Adjacent to it is the  mazhai malai madha koil (which literally translates as "Our Lady of rain hill") with the big Ave Maria sign etched in the local lingo on the hill side facing the road . The winding steps leading to the church atop the hill is a view worth a watch.  On full moon days people go for catholic version of 'Girivalam' (perambulating the hills as at Thiruvannamalai)  Continuing with the temple story at the 100th km to Chennai one can witness a grand and mammoth Siva's statue  adjacent to an equally big Hanuman one! We also witness small ones like a Christian denomination chapel called  ‘Philadelphia samaadhana  sabai’. (Philadelphia Peace Congregation) You may wonder what  could  possibly Philadelphia  do to make peace at NH45? Mind you we  Tamilians  are indeed highly imaginative as far as naming everything including our gods and goddesses !  The ‘Vallalar Thirumana koodam’ (Wedding hall with the name of an ascetic saint)  tickles you as equally as the Mother Theresa Thirumana Nilayam (match making centre)!

The ‘Thiruvaachur Madura Kaliamman’ temple (Madura means 'endearing') depicts a study in contrast of  Kali's natural terrorising iconic symbolism!

In contrast to the Melamaruvathur  red  we witness pilgrims in their yellow attire as we approach Trichy walking sans chapels to the Mariamman temple at Samayapuram.  "My problem will be solved or my problems had been solved by the dear mother and I have to play my part properly" is the staunch belief  of these walking pilgrims!

Apart from these, one can witness people going in groups in their saffron attire during the months of August and September to Our Lady of Good Health's church at Velanganni,  pilgrims in green attires during second half of January to Lord Muruga's temple at Palani hills and sabarimalai Ayappan pilgrims all through the year. I am sure all the good vibrations emanating from these pilgrims will reach the travellers of NH45 too!

Another interesting God awaits us in the midst of the South Pennar river at Karadipakkam near Vizhupuram. You won't believe when I say the gold painted statue of Buddha is giving away His blessing to all those who take the effort to turn  to the river and pay their respect to Him!

There are some forts too on your way. The invisible 'Elavanasoor Kottai ' after Ulundurpettai though not  visible  from the high way the name board  kindles ones imagination.

'Ranjan Kudi kottai  which is visible from the road at Mangalamedu stirs up the interest in history."

But I feel guilty  writing about it  since we are always in a hurry to reach Trichy never ever taking the short detour to have a closer look at that dilapidated yet historical fort!

Further down  near Perambalur we take small detour to visit  the National  fossil wood park board, proving that these places were part of the sea eons ago and the marine calcium deposits has indeed made this district the cement  production region of Tamil Nadu.

I will end my NH 45 story with an equally interesting story. At Vikaravandhi cutting, the NH45 parts way with Kumbakonam and Thanjavur road and once we were obliged to take the road to attend a function. The road was narrow and goes via Pantruti, the cashew centre of Tamil Nadu. As we approached Pantruti there were innumerable stalls on either side of the road selling cashew nuts and I started salivating.  Promptly the vehicle was stopped and  I got down. Those packages did not belong to the broken variety but the cashew nuts were in their full beauty and majesty! I  enquired the price. It was way below of what we pay in Chennai. But still I bargained . Why not? They can share some of their profits with me! Elated at my bargaining prowess I became generous and unlike Aleksandr Solzhenisyn didn't stop with 'The First Circle' but continued with the  second circle too and bought one packet for my driver and my cook.

Back in Chennai the first distribution was to my driver and the cook.

"Ma.. did you eat the cashew nuts?" the cook asked  sternly asked me after two days.

"Not yet....."

"They are not good.."

I know that she belonged to those clan of critics  who can find fault with the best Mysurpa sweets from the famous  Sri Krishna sweet stall in Chennai!

"I want to you to open one..." 

I didn't want to.......   but to prove a point  I took one from the shelf.

"A full cashew is a beauty to behold isn't it.....?" I wanted to impress upon her mean self with the right attitude.

But she was already  there with the kitchen scissors. I took it from her and opened the pack. It was an effort to open the tightly packed plastic. I was aghast when  I tipped the contents into  a tray. Apart from the few full cashews artfully arranged around the pack the rest were.... what could I say... the rest  were the trash of  cashews which no one would touch  with a barge pole even  for free.... !

The victorious look on the cook's face didn't bother me. For once she was right.

And I learnt a life lesson  that day. Except for the fresh and loosely sold guava  at Ulundurpettai toll gate I scorn any packed item, however tempting  it is, at NH45 and its surrounds!

Revolutions Par Excellence

A little girl leaves her village to take up a challenge

 She was a new bride of  15 when she landed in the village where her husband was the headmaster of the middle school. She was also a village girl but her background differed. Her father sent her to a town school to learn  a bit of English. When she started the school she was ridiculed by the town girls, who thought that they were of a superior class.  But the girl challenged herself to learn the language within three months and became such a star that the bewildered principal took her around the classes to demonstrate to the other students what a determined mind could achieve! Though her father took her off the school before she could attain puberty in accordance with the village custom her thirst for books never ceased. She knew by heart most parts of  Constantine Beschi's  great Tamil literary work 'Thembavani'

After the harvest season, when the villagers were relaxed,  the nights in the veranda of her house would be a gathering place for the village people interested in listening to the stories from  Indian mythologies and from the very young age and either her elder brother or she would be the readers of those stories in their ringing and clear voice. The audience got so thrilled with the way the story was read out that they would carry her on their shoulders praising the father for having such a wonderful daughter!

But this village was utterly different. While the men toiled in the lands the ladies apart from the household work  engaged themselves in gossiping and whiling away their time in the board game known as dayam.  The girls who were not sent to school after certain age merrily joined this gang whiled  away their time!

Even though there was a chapel  bigger than that of her village was there in her new village where she settled down with her husband, the involvement of the village community who were all Christians, was zilch and  it was left to the sacristan to take care of the Lord with just the obligatory  obeisance  carried out by the villagers.

Teachers were a respected lot in those days and the teacher's wife was given equal importance   and that too the 'head teacher's wife' had a prestigious place what with people coming in to help her out  bringing with them small eats like roasted ground nuts. One thing led to the other and the bride started with new songs to be sung in the church.

 The enthusiasm caught on and the singing ladies turned out to be the  amazement  of the congregation. Taking a detour from their routine  the ladies gathered in  her house in the afternoons where she would entertain them by reading bible and magazines with good values.  But there was opposition to this change from the people who were content with the prevailing laissez- faire system. One day as they were reading the bible  missiles of cow dung landed inside the house and the children who were accompanying their mothers got the fright of their lives and said" From tomorrow we will stop reading." But these threats were no deterrent  to our lady's determination and courage  and the priest who came to the village once a week  condemned the miscreants from the pulpit and the missiles stopped .

The girls who had  done their elementary education were asked to read for the group; no problem if there was a going to be wrong pronunciation or a mistake. Encouraged thus  the illiterates too wanted to learn and read. So groups were formed and sand was spread in the big portico in the middle of the house and a mini school came into existence. Slowly a talent pool was created. Those who knew stitching helped others. Good recipes were shared. Small plays with great ideals were enacted by the accompanying the children. Harmonium was brought out, new songs were composed, annual day in the school became grand success. The ladies formed a group and named it as " Sacred Heart of Jesus ." Small contributions were collected and a president and a treasurer were elected which they decided would go on rotation on an annual basis so as to make each one of them learn the management skill and responsibility . Birthdays and wedding days were celebrated with small gifts and sincere wishes.

The preparation for the biennial 'picnic to the nearby forest started days ahead with the preparation of sweets and savories. Old folk songs were revived for the occasion and once "the ladies and children alone" party reached the vantage point in the forest the place was indeed filled with free spirits beyond their imagination with everyone giving full vent  dancing and singing with gay abandon. After sharing the goodies the group went on to collect the bounties of the forest land. The shampoo leaves, varieties of berries for pickling  and a rare jack fruit if they were lucky were packed for common distribution!

This bonhomie  and the positive vibrations flourishing  among the lady members slowly encompassed even the cynical family members to the extent that they willingly came forward  to send their girls for higher studies  instead of an early marriage, they volunteered to send them to the town to qualify themselves for jobs!  After many a decade those girls are now retirees drawing  pensions and gratefully remember the miracle pair of the 'big teacher and his intelligent wife'  but for whom they would not  in the position they are today. It was a revolution of sorts with an innate beauty that emanated from the petit bride of fifteen!

Another young girl leaves India to take up an international challenge.

She was a girl of 21 and after obtaining a postgraduate degree in Chennai was on a flight to England to pursue her doctoral studies. Never ever out of home with every little need taken care of by the family, the alpha and omega of survival was hers alone. The yearning for something more than the study course was  ever present in her sub conscious mind. It was a chance meeting with a colleague that proved to be the trigger point.

 "Can we do a Indian fashion show?" was how it all started.

 "Why don't we give a little Indian dance performance for this occasion?" was the next step.

"Can I teach you ladies some steps to join me on the stage?"

With willingness and perseverance  she indeed gave the first regular performance in the international women's club in Norwich, UK. With just four dancers she had coached, she enacted the part of Ramayan starting with Sita's abduction changing rolls in a flash! The rhythm, the technicality of the steps and the emotive skills became  her trade mark. Slowly and steadily the group started to grow. A room in the university for the practice session was an unexpected boon. The once a week session was not just for dance practice but sharing the good vibes too.

"With my whole heart I am giving you my precious art  and  your willingness to learn will be my only expectation and it is up to you grab it and enjoy " was her motto !

"Don't  be discouraged if you are not getting the steps right..... with a bit more  concentration you will be my competitor!"

 Vinayaga Chathurthi, Saraswathi Pooja  was celebrated with more enthusiastic performances  and so too was Diwali and Christmas. Indian sweets were shared along with the western delights. Their fame slowly spread and they danced for the mayoral procession in the centre of the city, many a prestigious village and town halls  of United Kingdom and Indian weddings happening in that land . A church invited them to give their performance to the congregation!

The bonhomie created by the bride of 15 was witnessed in this far away land too! This young girl who left the shores of India at 21, has created an ambience  togetherness,  sharing the happiness and sorrows with equal grace. The annual picnic to the forest by the bride is continued here too when the group of  " dancing ladies only" chose a location for the week end  dancing to their heart’s content with gay abandon and sharing the joy being together and cooking many  a meals together!

"I am what I am today because of you and our dance group." is the equivocal comment by every member of the dance group.

The above two stories, the first being the story of a young new bride creating a big revolution in a tiny little village is none other than my dear mother's life story and the second part is about my dear daughter. The self-confidence created by the village bride which encouraged  the girls to come out of their cocoons exhibits itself here too when Bharatanatyam, a professional art form, which most people find difficult to master, has been taught and mastered by an international community consisting of Chinese, Indian and British girls.

As we witnessed Natya Priya's  (this is the name by which this dance group is known,20th year performance I was moved to tears with this unimaginable semblance in the attitude of the grandmother and the grand daughter and I standing as a mute witness with both the shows!