Nurungukal..2..contd..

    This summer was unbearable. The mercury went high unusually. The water table went down. The change in the climate though predicted made all of us to think about the ways to combat it effectively. It was an anticipated phenomenon. Still we were unprepared. Global warming, el-nino etc are subjects discussed in every forum.It is my apprehension that these effects might have set in ever since we triggered a development based on fossil fuel. And now it has reached the peak stage, damaging the environment and human life irretrievably. All of us know that how many million years it might have taken to accumulate the fossils and how soon we depleted it, making an irreparable damage. Now we calmer for remedies.

       Many are in the fray to provide a soothing touch. Most of us think that planting a few saplings here and there with much fan fare would help in rejuvenating the earth. It is not the planting of trees alone that can come to our help. The most important aspect is that who will sustain them, who will nurture them, or who is concerned about their growth. Every year come June people come with plans like vanamahotsavam, thanal marangal or ormamaram etc. etc. depending on their imaginations to coin catchy glossary and also derive support from social forestry etc and plant numerous seedlings, mainly on both sides of our highways and waste lands. But if you take stock of the survival a few years later a dismal picture will emerge.

       There is no dearth of trees in Kerala. When compared to other states we are blessed with a better greenery and eco systems. There may be short falls here and there. But over all the situation is not so alarming, if we can arrest the plunder in future. For that I believe that corrective steps should be initiated in the cities and towns where the pollution is at its peak. Our cities and towns have attained the present status by demolishing fragile eco systems. Take the case of Olavanna village near Kozhikode. It was once a serene and salubrious place to live. The undulating terrain, ravines, paddy fields,wet lands and stretches of coconut groves, a perfect blend of nature and aboard of many species of flora fauna and animals birds etc. It was the scenario in the fifties and sixties. Now look at it as you pass through any one of the by pass highways. The contrast will  make a shudder in any nature lover’s mind. Need no explanation. Here also the real villain is the so called development based on petroleum products.

      Now our young Agriculture Minister has vociferously declared that he will not allow not an inch of paddy field or wet land to be reclaimed here after. A declaration we all look forward to be implemented in its true spirit. At first let me tell you that paddy eco system is not one created by nature. It is one evolved as a result of man’s intervention on mainly marshy lands for meeting his food security. And now only very few small or medium farmers hold paddy fields. With the existing facilities provided by the Sarcar a farmer derives only a meagre income, often resulting in loss, and due to the vagaries of nature.  Law does not permit him to grow any other crop. So he will be always looking out for a better income. Very often such a quest will result in the sale of his beloved land to a land mafia. The mafia is an expert in manipulations and disposes the land by virtue of the loopholes in the law.

         What the government should now think of doing to avoid the distress sale of paddy fields is to ensure a better price to paddy and also to provide irrigation systems besides other incentives so that a farmer can take more than three crops in a year. The huge funds available with the Government on account of carbon trading or carbon credit can be channelled to create a corpus fund exclusively for helping those farmers who conserve an eco system, be it be paddy field or a sacred grove or any other nature friendly biodiversity preservation work.

        Be frugal .avoid plastic,paper cups,napkins at functions. Try to retain our traditional systems. O.K let us work together.

Nurungukal…2…contd…

       I have been lucky to be part of many a  work shops or seminars on various subjects, mainly related with conservation and biodiversity. Now at this age of 75 years, when I look back and evaluate the end product of such gatherings, a sort of dismay creeps in. Because many, the majority of them, were conducted for the sake of spending a fund. There was no sincere effort to follow up. You can notice that in our society the months of February and March are always busy for people like me with such programmes. Because before the end of the financial year the organisers have to utilise the funds. I have struggled to comply with the schedule, many a time.

       Professionalism in managing the proceedings of such events is a matter to reckon with. Some institutions,for example , M.S. SWAMINATHAN FOUNDATION, have a retinue of manpower, who knows the pulse of the faculties and audience as well. More over the infrastructural facilities with them are most modern and flawless. The home work such institutions do are meticulous. Even in such arrangements I have come across instances when the power point system failed and the speaker grappling in the dark. Most of them now depend on such gadgets to ensure the flow of their presentation and any failure in the system will force them to draw a blank. Some used to manage the situation with ingenuity, but many struggle to put up with the it. I was also once or twice the victim of such embarrassing situations and that too before an elite audience of scientists and scholars at a workshop organised by CFTRI Mysore.

    The scenario is entirely different when it comes to a village level programme. I had the opportunity to conduct many in my capacity as the president of a milk co-op society. Here we have to observe some strict schedule of protocol. The printing of invitation letter itself is a difficult process, because if we by chance make a mistake in positioning the name of a dignitary, it can attract his wrath,which some time may even be by boycoting the function not only by him but also by his political followers. The omission of a personality may lead to even more dangerous situations. The most difficult task is to get an impressive gathering and to make them patiently sit till the very last event. The ring tone of the mobile phones very often interrupts and above all one or two will be always on the move to the sides of the hall  to attend to their calls, distracting the speaker. The functions usually as a matter of routine take off at least one hour late from the scheduled time. So now the organisers have started requesting the dignitaries to report only after a call.

    The last minute cancellation of the invitees to attend the function always put in a difficult predicament, especially when it is the person to preside over the function or the one to inaugurate it. After noon sessions used to be always very drab as many of the participants, especially the elders like me will prefer to enjoy their routine siesta unintentionally. Usually the kids from the nearby schools used to oblige us with welcome prayer. But on most occasion it has become convenient to satisfy with a silent prayer, leaving it to the choice of the audience to make mental recitation.

      Now when I sit back and take a mental stock of the results of such elaborate exercises in the process of knowledge imparting and efforts to induce a change in evolving policies and above all the impacts on our practises, it draws a pathetic picture. How many hours  and how much public funds we have spent on matters such as conservation of biodiversity, waste management,discarding of plastic etc. Still the issues stare at us often unresolved,questioning our sincerity of purpose and commitments to the society at large.

Nurungukal..2..contd..

     For the last two months it was election festival for keralites. I do not know whether Kerala Tourism dept. ventured to attract tourists like last time to enjoy the mela. This time there was not much processions and rallies in Wayanad, organised by the political parties to show their might. Instead they preferred to make house campaigns. Only the main contestants viz UDF,LDF and NDA  were in the arena as far as canvasing was concerned. Although it started in a subdued tone, as days advanced the intensity increased reaching a high crescendo in the last lap.

       The social media also played an important roll depending on the choice of the user. This of course made the posts either jovial or informative. The roll of such reactions in influencing the electorate will remain as a case for research to the political Pundits.

       It gave an opportunity to the common man to witness the big guns in action, pleading and even performing snap shots of mimicry. Candidates made marathon visits in their constituency with folded hands. No wedding function remained unattended and during the last few days they never failed to make condolence visits. And the public took every such reaction in good spirit and hope.

        No wall paintings, thanks to Sheshanji. But the blaring of slogans and parodies virtually did more damage to our organs. The positive change this time was the distribution of some serious manifestos explaining their vision and future plans. But it remains to be seen how many will be complied with once they come to power.

     I hope that when the event is over each one will take care to remove the posters and hoardings, instead of abandoning them to be decayed and polluting the nature.

         The most important change which I experienced was that none came to collect funds for their election expenditure. I wonder what the reason is?!. Anyway it is a positive sign. Thanks for their self sufficiency.

        Tomorrow is the D day. Let us hope that the enlightened electorate of Kerala will choose the most eligible without fear or ferver…contd

Nurungukal..2..contd…

      Mithuna our grand daughter is just seven years old now. She is sprightly and have all the prangs of her age. As time changes  children also adapt to noval acivities atune to the changing lifestyle. For instance in our time we were satisfied with what was provided by he parents. Our toys were made out of things available locally, say a ball or bird made out of a coconut leaf or at the best a rubber ball purchased at a festival market. And all this depend on the time elders can spare or the availability of funds. But now things have changed. If we fail to satisfy  their demand, which sprout according to their moods you are in a danger zone staking the peace of your home.

        Mithuna, if she do not hve any one of her age group to play with the choice falls on my wife, who at her age 70 has to play the roll of a student often, or that of a patient or of any oyher character. The teacher student scene is enacted in perfect harmony with what happens in a her class room. With a cane in her hand and a black board on the dining room wall,she makes my wife  to learn what ever she has been made to in the school, starting from the morning greeting, in exact sequence. At time she appears to be very angry when my wife’s attentions wanders to the food on the stove. The enactment is meticulouse in details to that of a very temporamental teacher. I always used to wonder whether she is imitating her class teacher in true sense and how much anger the teacher might have transmitted to the the tiny tots.

         She can perfectly show you the Baratha natyam mudras in the correct order while reciting the relevant sanskrit sloka. Similarly  she has learned many tamil film songs ,many of them having tongue twisting lyrics and can also perform some items in the gyrations the heroines make.

        During this vecation she learned cycling within a few hours herself. I have seen my daughter persivering for hours to teach cycling of other children a few years ago. I think human capacity to adept a setuation increases as generations progress. My children were faster than me in learnig cycling ,swimming etc.

         When they are at home my computer and mobile phone  are at their disposal. Infact I have learned many of the applications of these gadjets from them.

       Now they have returned leaving us once again to our solitudes, devoid of laughter. With many of their demands remain unfulfilled we bid good bye looking yonder for the next holidays.

Nurungukal..2..contd…

      Mithuna our grand daughter is just seven years old now. She is sprightly and have all the prangs of her age. As time changes  children also adapt to novel activities attune to the changing lifestyle. For instance in our time we were satisfied with what was provided by he parents. Our toys were made out of things available locally, say a ball or bird made out of a coconut leaf or at the best a rubber ball purchased at a festival market. And all this depend on the time elders can spare or the availability of funds. But now things have changed. If we fail to satisfy  their demand, which sprout according to their moods you are in a danger zone staking the peace of your home.

        Mithuna, if she do not have any one of her age group to play with the choice falls on my wife, who at her age 70 has to play the roll of a student often, or that of a patient or of any other character. The teacher student scene is enacted in perfect harmony with what happens in a her class room. With a cane in her hand and a black board on the dining room wall,she makes my wife  to learn what ever she has been made to in the school, starting from the morning greeting, in exact sequence. At time she appears to be very angry when my wife’s attentions wanders to the food on the stove. The enactment is meticulous in details to that of a very temperamental teacher. I always used to wonder whether she is imitating her class teacher in true sense and how much anger the teacher might have transmitted to the the tiny tots.

         She can perfectly show you the Baratha natyam mudras in the correct order while reciting the relevant sanskrit sloka. Similarly  she has learnt many Tamil film songs ,many of them having tongue twisting lyrics and can also perform some items in the gyrations the heroines make.

        During this vacation she learnt cycling within a few hours herself. I have seen my daughter persevering for hours to teach cycling of other children a few years ago. I think human capacity to adept a situation increases as generations progress. My children were faster than me in learning cycling ,swimming etc.

         When they are at home my computer and mobile phone  are at their disposal. In fact I have learnt many of the applications of these gadgets from them.

       Now they have returned leaving us once again to our solitudes, devoid of laughter. With many of their demands remain unfulfilled we bid good bye looking yonder for the next holidays.

Nurungukal…2…contd…

     Many of us are very inquisitive about the proceedings of a marriage function. I have heard many a time people critically commenting on the correctness of the sequence of events. Sometime on the positioning of the bride before the nuptial knot, Whether she should be on the right side  till the nuptial knot is made  or the correct custom is to keep her on the left side of the groom from the very start. Or there was a lapse in the way the father of the bride offering  her to the groom. All this happens because there is no pattern set by an institution, as in the matter of other communities and no authorised person to conduct the ceremony. In our case , I have seen on many occasions the couple succumbing to the instructions of the camera man. At one instance even the nuptial knot had to be retied  on the demand of the camera man as he failed to get a good shot at the first try. On another, he even ventured to arrange the frill and pleat of the saree of the bride at places, which normally a lady is allowed to manage.  In another case the couple was asked to re-do one or two steps again and again just for the convenience of the photographer.

         Now a new breed known as event managers have appeared. They own the last word in what ever happens during the function. The magnitude of their roll and events depend on the bulge of the purse of the parents. From a to z every thing will be taken care of by them, even a marriage function at a distant destination.

          The other day we were received and ushered in by two beautiful girls whom I have not seen in any of our family circle. With folded hands and Namaste they flowed in style before us  like a pair of air hostess. Many such girls were positioned at all the strategic places, even on the stage  and they were the best attractions  than the best attired guests.

      One by one the camera crew with back packs and long baggage entered and encroached the space below the stage. There were about twelve of them standing in a row on the stage like a wall, obviously showing their posterior to the audience and some of them were holding huge umbrellas  obstructing what ever little gaps through which the crowd strained their necks to witness the proceedings. The concerted efforts of a host to  crack the wall were in vain  and we were satisfied with a grand view of the changing positions of the “buttock wall”.

            Helplessly I derived  solace in remembering my roll as a boy in sprinkling the rose water on the bride groom party and distributing lemons to the guests during the wedding  function of my sister a few decades ago.

Nurungukal..2..contd…

        Sitting on the veranda of the newly built house of my brother’s daughter on the banks of Nila an unusually hot wind grazing the warm sand and withered shrubs caressed me. Lot of water fowls were taking an ocassional dip in the water and some were sitting on the shubs spreadyng their wings to dry.  A narrow stream of muddy water flew touching the western bank to show the world that Nila is struggling to exist  and lay lifeless as a vanquished.I did not resist my  temptation to touch her and as I stepped down,  a tickle passed through. I remained there for a while enjoying the rhythm of her heart beat. It seems that there was nobody to take care of her, when I witnessed several plastic bags full of waste lay scattered and  the fluttering pieces of plastics on the branches of the shrubs. Many a great poet has wept over her pathos.Still we are blind to accept the very purpose of her existence as one of the main arteries of Western ghats.        This sight was a total contrast to what I experienced on the previous day.It was an undulated patch of land, nearly twelve acres, maintained by an ancient Namboodiri family known as Pathirikunnu mana. The Mana now exists on the strength of  a belief as old as 1500 years, about their association with serpents.  The sight of sky high trees, intertwined with  rare  species of creepers, small ravines and a few ponds , the chirping of birds, a few colonies of honey bees hanging over in cluster on certain trees, the penetrating rays of sun reflecting the cobwebs as they filter through the vast canopy  of towering trees, ripe native mangoes strewn like a carpet every where and the roots protecting soil and water fascinated me. I felt as if I was in the midst of a pristine forest. These are the best models of biodiversity conservation which truly demands the support of carbon trading proceedings.

     I never had  any hope of such experiences when I was heading  to participate in two functions in Valluvanad. On both side of the main high way I saw the life like boards of candidates for the assembly election showing their shining  teeth. Some with bare gums and others posed as if they are ready for a cat walk!!. Our journey was interrupted at a few places by the slogan shouting followers and way side gatherings. All was well and I enjoyed the enthusiasm of setting up a democracy.

        Paddy fields lying fallow after the harvest and a few patches of melon  and beans cultivation prompted me to make a purchase of farm fresh vegetables. It also gave me a chance to evaluate the change in he landscape use, since my childhood days till now. As I lay back relaxed on the cushion of the car, I wondered how the forefathers travelled on the rickety  roads and about their consciousness  to preserve the Mother Earth. Let us think about a day which will not depend on fossil fuel for development…..

  

Nurungukal…2…contd…

        In the late 1980s the idea to quit my job in Central Warehousing Corporation started building up in me. The farmer in me was forcing me to take the reign of management of the small coffee estate which my wife had inherited from her ancestral property. More over agriculture was in my blood ever since childhood. My father maintained a homestead farm. Entire family used to get involved in activities such as transplantation, harvesting even in pounding of rice in the back veranda along with over servant girls. There was a native cow whom my mother lovingly called Chinnu, which hardly produced 5 glass of milk. Now I maintain one yielding twenty litres !!. But the quality of milk differ very much . My cow is only a milk producing machine were as chinnu was another member of our family, so dear and pampered. It was a sight to watch her grazing in our compound as her calf struggling from behind to suck the tits and dodging to avoid her mother’s kicks.

       We children had no foot wear. In fact I bought one for the first time when I was reading for my bachelor degree!!. Perhaps that gave us an opportunity to be in touch with mother earth and a feeling of love towards nature. Similarly we children roamed in batches from field to field to collect flowers for decorating the courtyard during Onam celebrations. It gave us ample chance to get in dialogue with nature. Butterflies, birds and even snakes befriended us. Many of us took pleasure in imitating the call of different birds, especially that of kuyil.

        I thought when I settle down in Wayanad I may get back  at least a part of my old days. Yes in 1990 Wayanad was a heaven to live. The small house was surrounded with a stretch of paddy field contoured with coffee gardens. Come monsoon the Tigrina frogs used to crock loudly behind my house and during dusk the chorus of a pack of fox reminded me the child hood days. A swarm of glow worms illuminated the Tamarind tree. The flight of large colonies of wasps migrating from one place to another, making a sound  similar to that of propeller of a plane  was very common then. Now after 45 years, I yearn to experience them one again  and keep my eyes and ears sharp but in vain. Instead the sounds of speeding tillers and JCBs from a nearby quarry disturbs me.The marshy lands, paddy fields and even hillocks have disappeared which reminds me a line…” old order changeth yielding place to new….” This year  the mercury has touched unexpected heights scorching, blistering the earth and our hearts. We have seen a few birds here which used to frequent only desert areas leaving us to sit finger crossed hopping for a sustainable development concept. Let our curriculum be more nature friendly, because only the next generation can retrieve the earth………

Nurungukal..2..cont

     January first is time for me to roll back my memory and  make an imaginary walk on the Indra Nagar roads in Bangalore. My best New year days were enjoyed there in the company of a rare breed of humans whom I cherish the most dearest and close to my heart. It was a cluster of families representing different backgrounds. Keralites, Kannadigas, Iyengar and  a Maharashtrian. By a chance of destiny we met,loved,frolicked,enjoyed every moment of each other’s company without any inhibitions, true and transparent. A true expression of unity in diversity.

       I was a latecomer to the group. The banker,  an ex pilot and a teacher, the retired major, the marketing manager and a noted designer and photographer attracted me at the first encounter itself. I did not make much time to get into the grove and attain a coveted uncle hood.

      The group became vibrant on weak ends, sharing the hospitality in turn. Food from all the kitchen were pooled, to be enjoyed while the elders immersed in a vociferous session of rummy and others in lighter games.  The party used to be alive as long as the brew lasts. The discussions during the game touched almost all the current events and subjects.  An occasional fight added spice to the game. Leaving the lady of the house to clear the shambles the rest moved out with  usual fare well gimmicks  and thinking of the next weak end gathering.

      The trip to the location where  the great movie SHOLAY was shot was an event to keep preciously in any one’s heart for years. Like a military operation we moved in lock stock and barrel with baskets full of food ,fruits, drinks and what not. There was even a cricket bat and  ball. The wickets we managed with the twigs. The water in the lake resisted nobody from a plunge. For hours and hours  it was fun and merriment. As the sun slowly hid behind the mountain we managed to return while the sound of Gubbar singh  [arayo samba]and the sound of hoofs from the scenes of SHOLAY still reverberating in our ears.

       December 31^st evening  is the time for preparation to welcome New year. All would gather in a house ,invariably  Sreenu’s. Then till midnight it was time for music. eating .drinking and dancing. A blissful celebration ending with a loud wishing of HAPPY NEW YEAR.  Now every thing is like a dream. I yearn to be once again in that company .

   This post is only a memoir to the man who was responsible  for providing  me such bliss full days in my life at least for a few years…………

Nurungukal….2…contd…

     Every day sharp at 6’o clock she wakes up with a loud yawn as she scratch and arrange her hair which, was once reaching much below her posterior like a bunch of flowers of a palm tree. I have seen her managing it with great effort those days. And now she does it by a flick. As she slowly raise and staggers away, shifting her weight from one leg to another, I try to visualise  her swan walk of younger age.

By the time I get up after an extended nap the flask containing my morning coffee would be ready on the table, which I used to gulp shamelessly as a matter of right. The sequence of events that follow there after is in military precision as far as she is concerned no matter what the others do or wish. The routine is impeccably adhered.  The time slot for each activity viz. the afternoon siesta, ironing of clothes,[including mine] or stitching  is unchangeable come what may. I have never seen her in all these  45 years  enjoying an undeserved rest or interval in her daily life.

An introvert by nature, she opens herself in a subdued voice [not a murmur] when in company with her close relatives , although I am not in that list. It is always a fascinating scene, herself engaged in such moods. 

 I often used to watch in appreciation her impeccable dexterity in creating intrinsic patterns of lace work or woollen clothes. She derives an unusual joy while concentrating for hours on such a hobby.  Such expressions of excellence can  be attributed to high degree of tenacity.

 Although she has crossed 70, still pursues the above said rare qualities  to keep her engaged from dawn to dusk, without any expectation of appreciation from any corner.

 This post is only a silent recognition of all good things she stand forf.