Nurungukal....contd...

     When I think of my days in central warehousing corporation,the first name that come to my mind is that of Mr. P.M.Thomas. He was the adviser to Govt. of India on matters related to warehousing. I had attended many of his talks on this subject with a passion. He had an exceptional ability to enthuse your curiosity and involvement. His jokes kept you alive in the class room. It was he who told us ‘preserve or perish’ and ‘ a grain saved is a grain produced’.His remark on rats is relevant even now. “rat is a rat,whether east or west, take no rest, until you put him to eternal rest ". And much more about the devastating damages and loss caused by rats and small insects. When he explained the life cycle of a moth we can visualise even a hibernating pupae. His texts and circulars are even now considered as basic documents on warehousing,like a BIBLE. Although not of similar calibre there were a few other stalwarts in  CWC who played crucial roles like         M/sChibber[commercial],Mehtha[accounts],Mithra[personnel] etc etc. I would say that it was the joint effort of these and many juniors which was responsible for establishing a viable net work of warehouses throughout the length and breadth of our country.

       Warehouses are considered as an important link in the chain of marketing and post harvest management of agricultural produces. In the absence of scientific storage facility, the yearly loss of food grain was more than 30%. After the advent of wide spread modern warehouses it was reduced to less than 10% and we can imagine the quantity of grain saved. There are many more functions and objectives in the warehousing activity. {1} create a negotiable instrument so that farmers can avoid distress sale as they can avail short term loans against ware house receipt a  reliable document. {2}  Grading ensures an orderly marketing {3} insurance ,etc and of course a warehouse meets the time and space demand of a good marketing  strategy as the goods can be made available at the right time, in right quantity and at the right place.

             The warehousing concept was introduced as a three tire programme. Rural godowns were to be set up by local co-operative societies, State warehouses at state level markets and central warehouse to take care of markets serving a wider area. Initially there were only general warehouses, taking care of the need of traders and a very few farmers. But as our economy grew and need for a public distribution system became inevitable bigger ventures were envisaged. When the export and import activity gained momentum it was time to setup custom bonded warehouses, container depots etc to cater the needs of foreign trades. Now it has grown from seven to say several centres working day in and day out, thanks to its dedicated staff and management. I heard that recently CWC staff are benefited by a pension scheme, for which we were fighting but in vain. I hope that those who are in service now will at least remember that they are enjoying the fruits of  the toil of their fore runners and continue the journey to serve the nation relentlessly......contd....

  

Nurungukal....contd...

     The no. One mail, one of the most prestigious trains of southern railway reached Madras central in time and as usual the COPS [chief operating superintendent] was at the station to offer a cup of tea to the driver. This was a practise followed by Mr. Madhava Menon as a mark of expressing his appreciation to the driver for maintaining punctuality. Something which can be worth emulated by the present day managers. After luxuriating in a cold bath at Nadar’s Garden I headed for Chetpet railway station to catch an electric train to Chromepet. It was the nearest station to Chitalapakkam where my warehouse was.

      It was one of the four biggest warehouses in south India at that time, having a capacity of 50,000 metric tones. Other three were in Tanjore,Mannargudi and Trichy. They were built under a crash programme envisaged by Mr. Subramanyan, the then food minister to accommodate ship loads of wheat received from America as per their PL 480 [public law] and also the indigenous wheat and rice procured from different parts of India. Later on this facility was utilised to accommodate BULGAR WHEAT and CSM [ a blended maize product, both received on a programme known as CARE [Co.op American Relief for Every where]. Both these products were intended for supply to school as nutrient supplement.

      As I reached the ware house, there were rows of lorries carrying CARE products and wheat from Madras harbour waiting at the gate. A sight which  always pleases a warehouse man as it would boost the occupancy and performance of the centre.

     My colleagues were anxious to know what has transpired yesterday at Calicut. They wanted to know every details of the interview with the girl, especially about our conversation and reactions. Women were eager about her attire, ornaments , hair style and of course whether she was fair or dark etc. Men indulged in asking naughty questions and to satisfy them I exaggerated  some details. Every body liked her name,Nandini and more so her pet name Baby. One or two enquired why so. Although I was unable to provide an explanation at that time, later after our marriage , I presumed after seeing her photos that it might have been, because of her curly hair and dimple chin as a babe. More over she was the youngest girl in the family.They gave her full marks and every one was happy with the decision I had taken. The cross examination went on for some more time and slowly one by one returned to look after their assigned responsibilities leaving me in solitude....contd...

Nurungukal....contd...

        I would say that I enjoyed the life at Tatabhad lodge the most as a bachelor. The inmates hailed from almost all the districts of Kerala and had varied cultural backgrounds. The slang in which we spoke was typical of each locality. For e.g. Balakrishnan the TTE about whom I had mentioned in my last post spoke exactly like Biju Menon in the movie Ordinary[Palaghat style]. Once in a  way we enjoyed a hot session and went on picnics en mass. The life was in perfect harmony. One or two even managed to develop ardent love affairs in the neighbourhood. And in one case we had to extricate one of our friends from such a case with great difficulty. We had a common kitchen. The accounts were managed meticulously by Rajan and Namboodiri of LIC, both hailing from Tirur. But our eye sore was the cooks. We tried several, but none came up to our requirements. If one was too old and shabby the other failed to provide tasty food, yet another connived with our grocery merchant to earn a few extra income.  But some how we managed to keep the ball rolling, despite serious complaints. Yet it was the best and nostalgic part of my bachelor life for which I should be thankful to Vasu ettan, my cousin-in-law. In Madras it was a different experience.

            Actually it was popularly known as Nadar’s Garden and not as a lodge. It was an asylum to bachelor Malayalees in Madras. Its location was ideal, connected closely with rail and roads with facilities at arms reach. There was a canteen run by a set of cooks, providing tasty cuisine at reasonable rates and the rent was affordable to our meagre budget.

       I do not know the history of that house. It belonged to a rich Nadar family. They would have been using it to carry out their business in Madras. It was like an old bungalow. The facilities were such. The compound was full of big trees and provided a salubrious ambiance. It was cool and pleasant. There was abundant supply of water and we enjoyed it both morning and evening to drive away the drudgery of a days hard work. This was an exclusive facility in Madras for a Malayalee, who can not think of a life without two or even three baths in such hot weather.

        The break fast used to be very sumptuous. Puttu with plantain, pappadam, bulls eye etc. were the favourite of all. On holidays special menu with one or two non veg dishes satisfied even strict gourmets.There were a few inmates who had made this accommodation as their home in Madras. Their long standing association had given them some extra facilities viz. single room with fan , mirror,bath room etc. I had to share one with my colleagues, Thomas, Ramesh, Surendran etc. But as in Tatabhad, Nadar’s Garden did not offer any collective activity. Here we lived as individuals and used it as our dwelling only..contd.....

Nurungukal.......contd...

         Yesterday was a crucial day in my life. I met the girl with whom I am going to spent the rest of the life. I entrusted mother and brothers to proceed further and of course with the concurrence of my sister and brother-in-law. I took the first bus to Vepery on arrival at Madras Central railway station. It was cool and pleasant out side.

        At that time I was staying in Nadar’s Lodge in Vepery on Poonamally high road. When I joined Central Warehousing Corporation, for a few days I was staying in a small room provided by my friend Rajappan, an upcoming  painting contractor, in one of his godowns. My income was not adequate to hire a better place. He was known to me for the last many years ever since as a painter in Coinbatore and I was in Railways then. He was a regular visitor to our lodge in Tatabhad on every weekend to play rummy. Usually we began our session from Saturday evening and continued till late Sunday night. It was a typical accommodation with a veranda, hall [what they used to call], a kitchen and a bathroom one behind the other. These were connected by a side way. This alignment was popular for all such rented buildings.Families with even grown up children lived in such buildings compromising their privacy.There were four set of such rooms in a row. We bachelors occupied three sets and the last one by a family consisting of four members, a couple and two small cute kids. All of us addressed the lady as chechy. She was very helpful, especially when any of us fell ill, in providing tasty porridge and uppumanga. And when ever the water supply to our lodge failed we used to fetch water from a distant tap and provided her as a return gesture. We were in perfect harmony. Most of our inmates were working in LIC, Raiways, TNEB etc. There was one Mr. Nair who was a driver in Tamil Nadu Transport Corporation. He was suspended when his bus met with an accident. He was en route to a high range destination when the bus tilted and fell into a ravine. Fortunately it got stuck on a tree and escaped from human loss. He used to explain the sequence of the incident and the way he was holding a match stick in his hand ready to ignite the whole bus and immolate himself till the last passenger escaped safely. He was extricated but had to face an enquiry and punishment later. Mr. Menon from Palghat was an assistant in FCI. Both his feet were affected with corns and he made each step cautiously like a chicken in slow motion. Some of the naughty guys used to make fun of him by hiding his foot wear just when he was about to leave for duty. He was a chain smoker of Sadhu beedi and when ever joined us for a rummy session all of us took a puff or two, which he shared joyfully. We can not forget our room mate and colleague Mr. Balakrishnan who was seven footer!!. He was so tall and hefty. My self and my friend Vinoben used to slip into his pants together  and walk around the lodge by putting our feet in his shoes. Although he was so big he never made any attempt to resist us, on the contrary enjoyed the jokes with a loud laughter. Much later in my life,I met him at Olavakkot station as TTE and we shared some of the funny moments of our stay in Tatabhad lodge.....contd...

Nurungukal...contd...

                As I descended the steps of Anoth Hall a set of faces appeared on both sides of the walls. On my left there were some girls inquisitively glancing at me and their giggles made me shy. On the right a few boys were enjoying in their pranks. But  my mind was fully engaged otherwise,hence could not respond to their gestures. On the way to the station we took stock of the situation and decided to proceed further. On reaching Madras I informed mother about the details and requested her to go ahead. She was pleased very much.

             In the train I rewound the events of the day several time , just to derive a pleasure of a cud. The sleep was evading me each time I tried. I remembered the famous simile about Dhushiand after meeting Shakunthala in the hermitage. Although his body was moving forward, his mind was speeding back like the fluttering of a flag carried against a wind. The poet was at his best when he visualised the situation. In the train carrying me to Madras, I was also in a similar state of mind.....

Nurungukal...contd...

      When we reached Anoth Hall in a vehicle provided by the milk society, there were already one or two cars. I do not remember their make, but one was definitely a FIAT. There was no trace of KLD 4400 there. But the old driver was standing near the shed like a squirrel which had slipped the mango from the hand. He gave me a smile which was more like a blessing. We climbed the steps and entered the compound. On our left a small white dog with satin white fur was announcing our intrusion at the top of its voice and going round and round in its shelter. It was a beautiful animal receiving the loving attention of its master. We had one in Ponani which had no pedigree to claim, when I was a boy. It was black in colour and very ferocious. But one day it disappeared and never came back. Near to the dog room there was an empty cow shed. A tall coconut tree stood towering in the middle and on the other side a mango tree with wide canopy.

      Two gentle men lead us to a side room, which I think was an addition made for a definite purpose. There were one or two glassed wooden shelves in which old law journals were stacked neatly. As usual the books were leather bound and etched with golden letters. They seemed to be remaining in the chests for the last many years, may be since the lawyer uncle withdrew from practising. My attention was drawn to a pair of ivory tusks, skins of ferocious tiger and leopard,a mountain squirrel and a big skull of a dear with its long and branched horns. All these denoted the legacy of the family. In olden days those were supposed to be the trophies claimed by hunters as their marks of adventures.

   Only men were present in the room. We were mutually introduced. My brother asked about her eldest brother as he was not in the crowd. He had left for a sojourn with his wife and I presumed that would have been the reason for the absence of KLD 4400!!. A tall and fair gentle man, introduced as an ex. civilian officer was keeping me engaged on service matters.  Her brothers-in –law comparatively spoke less. One of her brothers was moving around restlessly and I could guess the reason. The tea and snacks came. We almost finished them, yet there was no sign of the girl. My brother who was by nature impatient on such issues pressed diligently to usher the interview. The room was cut off from any sign of the activities going out side. I went to the extend of thinking that perhaps that was their way for saying no. The cloud was cleared when the brother announced that the girl is ready for audience. We were lead to another room. Her eldest brother-in-law accompanied us.

   I was slowly unfolding my mind to manage the event. The room was another place of revealing their proud background. On the walls there were the paintings of a gracious lady, and two gentle men . We were told who they were and also whose work it was. In one corner an office table untouched for years remained as a souvenir of the person who was using it.

      Then slowly they moved into the room like a flock of hesitant birds and positioned behind a table. I was sitting on a canopied coach which was a solid piece of art.  She was diligently dressed, so was her mother and sister. She was sandwiched between them and it looked as if a morning dew was resting delicately on two petals of rose.My mental preparations were of no use but the silence was vociferous. Our eyes spoke and then the future flowed into our life unknowingly offering many moments of ecstasies.......contd

Nurungukal...contd...

   Before taking leave I touched the feet of my mother to receive her blessings, because  I am supposed to take an important decision in my life. I was on my way to see a girl  who may be selected as my life partner. Although I had  made some mental preparation, an element of tension prevailed. My eldest brother was supposed to join me at Calicut. We had not informed the girl’s family about our visit.

      Mother’s trusted servant Chathu was ready early in the morning to carry my bag to the bus stand. Mother asked me to report the result at the earliest.

     In the train I met a few of the hawkers and physically challenged persons making their living as best as they can. A blind man singing some old Malayalam hit songs attracted my attention. He had lost his eye sight after an attack of small pox and its marks were still left on his face. He was an expert in beating two small wooden pieces holding them in between his fingers producing a typical sound which can pierce into the bottom of your heart. I have watched him growing in age ever since my college days, but after a few years during  the journey between Tirur and Kuttipuram , I used to eagerly train my ears to hear the beatings of the chips but in vain. Although many others had taken his roll failed to touch my feelings.

        I went straight to meet my brother who was waiting in the office of the Co op. Milk union at Palayam. As he was an officer in the co-op. Dept.he had maintained good liaison with Milk societies. More over the secretary of the society was his best friend, one Mr. Kidavu. On my arrival he made contacts with the brother of the girl and informed about our visit.It was a surprise to them, yet agreed to oblige. The photo was with me and I showed it to my brother. He just glanced at it and returned with a smile and I took it as a silent consent. He knew the family very well, especially her uncle who was an advocate and used to visit my uncle a senior lawyer in the Calicut bar. So he said the back ground is OK. And it was my consent that mattered. Such moments, to take delicate decisions  appear very rarely in our life. It tightened my nerves. As in many such situations my inner self started evaluating the issue ,and before long I was able to decide.....contd....

 ...

Nurungukal...contd...

   Unlike today the bus moved from one point to another very slowly.She waited for the commuters and the luggage to be loaded on the top. Many merchandise were brought to Ponani market each day, especially betel leaves,dried medicinal plants etc. The conductor was a friend of every passenger. They exchanged pleasantries and maintained a relationship, which is not in vogue now.At Edappal she waited for a long time to pickup the passengers from the buses from Guruvayur and Anakara. By the time I got down at Kundukadavu jn it was nearing seven in the morning. Our house was about a kilo meter away and I covered it on foot. The tea shops en route were just beginning to prepare their kitchen. The usual sound of the scratching of coconut to prepare PUTTU reminded me of the croaking of the frogs at the on set of the monsoon.From some, the aroma of fine tea brew pierced my nostrils, followed by the sound of poring tea from one mug to another. It is now known as meter tea, as the maker lifted the hands to a meter height while poring the brew from on pot to another and vice versa.

         Mother was waiting for me at the veranda in her usual pose, leaning on the pillar. As I climbed the steps she hurried to me and hugged affectionately. I felt tensed as one or two tear drops from her eyes fell on my back. It was so every time after the death of our father. Within seconds she was normal and asked me whether the train was in time. I said yes and went inside. She wanted to know about my programme and how long my stay would be. I said after seeing the girl I had to hurry back as it was the probation period. Tomorrow myself and my eldest brother had planned to visit the girl and after that I would leave for Madras.

        She had prepared soft dosai and very tasty arachukalakki [one of her specialities] and I devoured a few dosai as if I was starving for a few days. She was sitting near to me and narrating each and every event that took place around her in meticulous details. One or two women from the Mahila Samajam came to consult her on some issues pertaining to the running of a tailoring unit and a teacher from the adjacent LP school to invite her to participate in a function. I was wondering from where did she get the energy to be so active even at that age.

       In the evening I went to pay visit to some of our relatives and every where I met the old ones only. The youngsters had gone in search of better pastures.Ponani had changed much. I could not locate many of my childhood friends. When I reached back mother was eager to know the welfare of her relatives. At dusk I found that she had not broken any of her old routines. The lighting of sandhyadeepam and reading the first and last ten stanzas of narayaneeyam were done without showing any fatigue. After enjoying her tasty dinner we retired for the day. I was once again brooding on the next days event....contd.... 

Nurungukal...contd,,,

   The sun had not come up when I stepped down from the train at Kutipuram station.I was still drowsy. The call of the station staff , kutipuram, kutipuram had woken me. As usual I looked around for my porter friend Muhamed and headed towards the exit. There was a tap on my shoulder and there he was scratching his head.I handed over the bag and requested to reserve a seat in the bus to Ponani. That was the practise ever since I met him. He was the favourite of almost all the elite families of Ponani, Anakara,Kumaranalur etc to have a liaison with Kutipuram station. It was cute to watch him moving in brisk steps in his red shirt and khaki shorts and of course a kerchief tied on the head in a typical and exclusive style of Malabar. The scene of the porters balancing very heavy trunk box and a hold all [typical travel kit of those days] on their head and depositing  them at the bottom of the seats is one of olden days. On many an occasion he had helped to purchase a ticket, when there was heavy rush of passengers from Guruvayur. Every time I met him he would offer a tea which I used to gracefully deny.

     On the main road a bus going to Ponani was parked. The cleaner of the bus [kili] was standing behind and shouting Ponani, Ponani, with a whistle on the fore finger and occasionally pretending to give the signal to start. The driver of the vehicle was going on raising the accelerator making bur bur sound to give an indication that he will dart at any moment. This process will go on and on till the bus is almost full with passengers. The bus belonged to Murugan Transport, and naturally there used to be a small photo of vel murugan above the driver’s seat decorated by a jasmine garland and the incense from a popular agarbathi prevailed.

        Muhamed had already reserved a seat for me and was waiting. As a token of respect he had removed the towel form the head and was holding it in between his left hand and chest. I enquired about his welfare and paid a hand full of notes which he hesitantly accepted. The bus was about to move and I jumped in. After occupying my seat I turned back to bid farewell to Muhamed. But he had already left. Perhaps to serve his next customer. That was the last time I met him. Much later I came to know that he was no more to take care of his favourite patrons. I could not find a substitute there after.

   The bus after making many more false attempts of rolling, finally moved towards Ponani. As it crossed the bridge I peeped out to enjoy the flow of water in Nila and the fluttering of the morning rays on the little waves..contd.. 

Nurungukal...contd...

My sister in law told us about their visit to the girl’s house. They had gone without any notice. At that time no elders ,even her mother was not in the house. She had gone to visit her eldest daughter who was staying nearby. All of them came hurrying and an informal meeting took place.It was transparent and straight forward without much ado. The real picture was available.  Both were convinced about their respective status and intention thus paving the way for the next move. I was asked to take the next step i.e. to see the girl at the earliest. A photo was made available. I was working at Chomepet in Central Warehousing Corporation. Naturally the photo was presented before my close colleagues. In such a situation we always depended much on the advice of our friends. There was a consensus and I proceeded on a few days leave. In the train I was making a mental preparation on my role in the interview with the girl. Many scenes from Malayalam movies passed through my mind. I was actually picturing the event. Even the questions to be asked were listed. My eldest brother was to accompany me . I was on my way to chose my life partner and my sub conscious mind was murmuring that I was going to make it. What attracted me in the photo was her innocent look. And I believed that eyes reveal the person in you. With this in mind and the tiredness of a day’s work in the Warehouse I slumbered in the crowded train, occasionally waking up with those eyes  with a Monolisa smile lingering in me.......contd....

Nurungukal....contd...

   I think it was in 1970 my brother who was in Indore proposed a case which was mooted by his friend who was a textile engineer. This friend had married from a family who originally belonged to Wayanad and later settled in Kozhikode. The proposed girl is the sister of his wife. I knew this family very well. They were one of the fairly rich families of Chalapuram where I had spent my college days. The many deep lanes between compounds in Chalapuram were our favourite places of rendezvous. Their house known as Anoth Hall was located on an elevated compound. On both sides of the way to this house there are small houses in which one of my friends family lived. The steps at the gate and the wall behind gave a majestic look to Anoth Hall. An old Ambassador car parked below the steps having a fancy registration number K L D 4400 was an indicator of the status of the family.We have seen this car many a time in the beach with a load of girls and boys and behind the steering an old driver who dragged the vehicle through the streets of Calicut at snails speed. Occasionally she was seen speeding by a young man accompanied by a beautiful girl. We used to look at them with a sense of envy.

  My eldest brother was familiar with the back ground and status of this family and hence there was no need for further verifications. Anyway as a matter of formality one of my elder brothers and his wife were deputed to visit them and report. It  was positive and that was the beginning of a great union......contd...

Nurungukal...contd..

   After celebrating my 29^th birthday when I was about to leave my mother once again asked to take a decision on my marriage. I was evading the issue on the plea that I was in search of a better placement. Since I had joined Central Warehousing Corporation in a supervisory cadre my reasons to postpone the marriage became  irrelevant.More over my kid brother was eagerly on cue. Ultimately I had to give the green signal. And that was the beginning of a treasure hunt as far as I was concerned. She was cautious to ask me whether any girl was in my mind. I said no. Yet I was not sure about it. Many had infatuated me. But as the circumstances would have, I failed to pursue the affairs and in one case it was a miss between the cup and the lip. No regrets now. Some incidents happen without our consent or wish.

    In the following months many proposals came and I was totally confused to select the apt one. If one was plump the other was so lean. Another was dark or yet another was with a short plait.There was no chance of knowing each other except a short interview which is a futile exercise to understand your life partner.  In fact I was in a negative mood as in the case of Jayaram in a movie. Enquiries came from many corners and the horoscope came to my rescue in many a case. I think similar  moments might have been gone through by many who are in search of an ideal partner through our system of arranged marriage. Here I do not venture to say yes or no to any method of selection whether arranged or otherwise. Both have plus and minus points . To me a successful marriage is the one in which a mutual understanding and recognition prevails till the end, for a peaceful and contended life. May be a difficult proposition but worth trying isn’t it !!.....contd....

Nurungukal....contd....

       I went to Ponani to spend a day or two with my mother. The visit was also to celebrate my 29^th birth day.  As usual she had prepared a very tasty feast. She was an expert cook. The kurukku kalan prepared in a kalachatti was one of her best items. Similarly she used to prepare an item we call as karimkalan[not an item in a feast], which I think is one which is prevalent only in our area [ Malapuram district]. Although its name ends in kalan, the recipe is different. Now my sister prepares a version of it almost similar to the old one. My mother used to say that the mizhuku paratti uperi which is another exclusive item of then central Malabar is prepared by just smearing a little coconut oil by hand on the  pre-cooked plantain pieces which was usually stored in earthen pots hung in one corner of the kitchen in an uri. She had her traditional method of serving the food on a birth day. The birth day boy or girl would be seated facing east in thekkini of our nalukettu house. On the right a lighted nilavilakku and the feast items served in a plantain leaf and also a nazhi  filled with rice would be arranged. The plantain leaf of the birth day person would be supported by two additional pieces. I do not know even now why it is so. May be to give an importance to the person.Father usually sits on the opposite side. After serving all the items in the order of their positions [ my father was very particular about this practise] mother would stand behind the birth day person and she would bless by placing rice and thulasi on the knees,shoulder and top of the head. She was very particular that the birth day person should not say ‘enough’ when the food is served and what ever is left behind will be offered to the fish in our pond which is adjacent to the sacred grove. She would herself would serve all the items, even at her old age and her touch adds the taste which even now linger in us.After a sumptuous feast we will assemble in the poomokham and it is time to hear her childhood story, while she goes on chewing betel leaves, accompanied by her intermittent loud laughter. It reverberates in my ear on and off........contd