The unexpected visit of a batch of students from the Mannuthy dairy science college a few days ago gave me an exposure on the way our new generation view things. As I was narrating the step by step progress of our milk society, in particular and our concern in general on the future course of responsibility they should shoulder on alleviating field problems,  I noticed in them a sense of seriousness. I could understand that they are a class ahead of the others and would certainly be a lot, worth dependable. The interaction with other farmers on the problems and solutions might have thrown more light to them which I could read from their faces. Above all the short but meaningful anchoring done by our Dairy Extension Officer, who once again proved her excellence on narration, made matters more significant to us as well as to the students.

        I was in particular interested  to find the lot more and more inquisitive about the live stock , perhaps due the fact that the owner of the farm happened to be of their age . And that was the main reason for selecting such a property to show that dairy farming is no more the play ground of the seniors alone. In fact lot of youngsters and NRIs are nowadays attracted ,eventually boosting milk production manifold. The White Revolution has now actually set in motion.

      As I witnessed  enviously the young crowd like butterflies, fluttering around the premise, sometime caressing the goats, or chatting with the calves or feeding the chicken, even whispering to the vegetables, unknowingly moved to my college days and tried to dig out a few moments of ecstasies of  such trips of freedom and emotions. Gone are those days I thought and once again, as the bus carrying them moved forward,  forcefully withdrew from the illusion and bid good bye to them.Till we meet again!!!

Nurungukal…..

      When I think of football the first name that comes to my mind is Sait Nagji foot ball tournament at Manchira in Kozhikode. The only event we fondly  awaited to happen apart from the annual exhibition at Zamorin’s ground. Unlike now, we never went to put up holding along the streets of Kozhikode. To be frank I never even bothered to know about the records made by the legendaries around the world. Now when you here the running commentary of a match  the stalwarts can tell you how many times a player had taken his breadth in 90 minutes of play and how tenderly he might have thought about the twins he would have while playing a crucial match. The only thing that bothered us was, from whom  we can sqeeze  few chips to by the tickets. It can be possibly by selling the news paper without the knowledge of our sister-in-law or by surreptitiously extracting some loose notes from our brother’s pocket. We neither had sufficient funds to put up a flex costing thousands of rupees, nor had the time. We were happy  if we could manage to enter the arena with a cone of fried pea nuts. But we were lucky in those days to enjoy the  live performance  of the famous Indian player like Thankaraj, Goswamy,Chidanandan, Zulphikkar, Olympian Rahman etc. etc.  We were satisfied with the commentary of Padmanabettan or with the review of Wimzy in Sport and Pastime. Invariably on many an occasion we had to be contend with enjoying the roar from inside the stadium while leaning on the parapet wall of Mananchitra, embrazing a cool breeze from the beach. If inside the performance of many a permanent spectators who used to station at designated spots added spice to our enjoyment. Suicides and quarrels were unheard of in those days.

      There are many like me in this part of kerala and world over anxiously expecting that the Sait Nagji  tourney would be revived to provide an annual fiesta  and more over to encourage the local young talents. Let those who spend thousands   for those who earn in crores think of creating a corpus fund to bring back a lost glory of Malabar.

Nurungukal…..

      When I think of football the first name that comes to my mind is Sait Nagji foot ball tournament at Manchira in Kozhikode. The only event we fondly  awaited to happen apart from the annual exhibition at Zamorin’s ground. Unlike now, we never went to put up holdings along the streets of Kozhikode. To be frank I never even bothered to know about the records made by the legendaries around the world. Now when you hear the running commentary of a match  the stalwarts can tell you how many times a player had taken his breadth in 90 minutes of play and how tenderly he might have thought about the twins he would have while playing a crucial match. The only thing that bothered us was, from whom  we can squeeze  few chips to buy the tickets. It can be possibly by selling the news paper without the knowledge of our sister-in-law or by surreptitiously extracting some loose notes from our brother’s pocket. We neither had sufficient funds to put up a flex costing thousands of rupees, nor had the time. We were happy  if we could manage to enter the arena with a cone of fried pea nuts. But we were lucky in those days to enjoy the  live performance  of the famous Indian player like Thankaraj, Goswamy,Chidanandan, Zulphikkar, Olympian Rahman etc. etc.  Otherwise we were satisfied with the commentary of Padmanabettan or with the review of Wimzy in Sport and Pastime. Invariably on many an occasion we had to be contend with enjoying the roar from inside the stadium while leaning on the parapet wall of Mananchitra, embracing a cool sea breeze. If inside, the performance of many a permanent spectators who used to station at designated spots added spice to our enjoyment. Suicides and quarrels were unheard of in those days.

      There are many like me in this part of kerala and world over anxiously expecting that the Sait Nagji  tourney would be revived to provide an annual fiesta  and more over to encourage the local young talents. Let those who spend thousands for those who earn in corers and Kozhikode Corporation think of creating a corpus fund  to bring back a lost glory of Malabar.

Nurungukal….contd…

    Wayanad is blessed with the active presence of three officers, a veterinary surgeon, an agriculture officer and a dairy extension officer, with whom I have a close liaison. Although they work in different departments ,have lot of similarities in their work culture. They have an excellent field record, which have made them standout.

     A few months back one of them organised a mango fest. The event had his Midas touch, with an extensive collection of mangoes which to me was a reminder of my childhood days.Out of the many a few of the native varieties  crept into my memory and I traversed back many years back nostalgically.When the other participants were vociferously debating on the merits and demerits of each mango, me unknowingly wandered into a past, scaling heights on a swing which my father used to arrange for us on the branch of the granny mango tree, with a partner, none other than our neighbourhood girl, to the envy of the other lads. 

The visuals in my mind about the dash we used to make to collect the yummy small ripe mangoes which might have fallen in the rain the night before , ahead of the other children reach them, no sooner we get up from bed, ignoring the shouting of my mother, awakened me from the slumber. Even the fruits which had been tasted by the bats or squirrels never frightend us about the NIPPO virus in those days.

         The other two both laddies are sprightly and energetic . In their own impeccable way they organised official duties to the welfare of the stake holders of their respective fields.If one is quick to take decisions the other is an expert in presentation having a good command over English and Malayalam.

         Iam keeping the name of these officers antonymous, frankly speaking to keep away from the wrath of others.  If the official fabric is devoid of the services of such dedicated officers, I used to wonder about the fate of our society. My salute to them……..