Ichirivettam…1

   Eliamma chechi have two daughters. Both are brilliant. The eldest became a bank manager. She is married and well settled. The second one also is in a high position. On the previous day of her marriage a party was arranged. The food waste was dumped in a pit and remained open. The foul smell attracted stray dogs. Ransacked her poultry. So sad about the loss of her dear chickens. So care full to manage the waste…..dum dum pi pi pi.

Nurungukal…2..contd..

         I never thought that it would be a tight rope walk when I agreed to contest in a local body election. After retirement from service I settled down in a village in Wayanad. Initially my intention was to manage the coffee estate which my wife had inherited. But as days passed,gradually I became active in some social activities. It became intense when I was asked to be a part of the peoples’ planning program . The request was based on the experience I had acquired as an official, and considering my aptitude in serving the community.

          Traditionally for generations our family  were ardent followers of Indian National Congress. The offer was from the front in which INC  was the major partner. Hence I decided to give a try. The complexity of contesting in an election was realized as the campaign progressed. I had several draw backs. My main problem was how to effectively deliver a public speech. Till then I was akin to impress a class room audience. To my surprise I found that many with much less education and exposure were able to drive home the points better than me. They received applause from the crowd. It is like sharpening an ax before the cut. It was then I recollected about the tips one famous author had given on effective public speaking. And applying them over the years now I have managed to improve on this art.

           As we went on pleading with the voters many issues in which I was not directly involved started creeping in and on many occasion I had to cut a sorry face. In a particular case I was at the verge of easing out an amount, had it not been for the ingenuity of one of our experienced  campaigner.  My temperaments were changed  and became very polite.Even very harsh and derogatory remarks failed to irritate me . I became totally immune to any abuse. I was devoid of any expressions other than a broad smile. I became calm and poised. In my sleep numerals poped up because my subconscious mind was always entangled with the number of votes I can pocket !!. I did not realize then that my bank balance was slowly depleting, as my entire concentration was on how to make a win and uphold the prestige. We chalked out some strategies. More than once we approached the electorate.

      It was customary that a candidate made condolence visits when there is death and a courtesy call in case of marriage  irrespective of the relationship or familiarity. In the case of death a wreath has to be invariably laid. Every thing is fair in love and election !. I was also forced to observe such techniques to draw the sympathy of the electorate.

           It was a team work and every thing went smoothly as planned. In the process I had a chance to visit all in the area and establish a friendship with many. In the final analysis this was the only gain from the toil. .

            On the contrary my opponent was a silent worker. Unlike me he went alone, met the voters and established a personal rapport. He was more experienced than me in such assignments. I have seen him moving from one voter to another like a bee collecting honey. By the time I realized the efficacy of his approach, it was too late and my defeat was certain. Although the margin by which my opponent won was slender, I had to admit that my strategy failed to click. The lesson that I learned from my defeat was that success is with those who know the ground well in a fight. As far as I am concerned I was rowing  in unfriendly waters, looking at the surface without the knowledge of the strength of the under current. Experience has no substitute to learn about failures.  …..contd

Nurungukal..2..contd..

        The bus moved slowly climbing the Nilgiri hills providing us enough time to blot the panoramic birds eye view of the valley consisting of vast stretches of lush green agricultural land and hamlets. Patches of mist scattered like an apron here and there added the beauty. As the bus waded through the mist the sight of the hill like a frog about to leap made the passengers to peep out enjoying the cool breeze uncared of the danger of hitting a passing vehicle. The tea at a wayside shop tasted different. It was hot and spicy. Although served in a very small cup it provided a different taste and warming up. As we resumed our journey the aroma of eucalyptus hit our nostrils revealing the Geographical index and identity of Nilgiris. It is a body chemistry  to identify a place by the aroma it emanates, viz. tea smell indicates a tea factory nearby, the smell of biscuits the presence of a bread factory, the aroma of coffee flowers declaring a good blossom in the Wayanad plantations and an obnoxious smell that of ill managed drains in a city or town proclaiming that we are about to reach our destination.

           We have made several such trips to Coonoor where my daughter is living with her husband. Nilgiris all ways enchanted us and we never missed a chance to visit her.  Their house located at a hillock provided a view of Coonoor town. The houses on the contours of the nearby hills resembled from a distance like set of boxes arranged in racks.

           More than any thing what attracted me was the Market place in the centre of the city. From pin to plane or salt to camphor was available there. Well organised providing specific slot for each commodity. Fresh vegetables, meat, fish at reasonable rates attracted me most. It is a concept which can be replicated in our cities. I think in Thiruvanathapuram there a few like that. In Pondichery I have seen one, very much similar to this. I doubt that the present day shopping malls have a thread from them.

         The Sims park with an extent of hardly twenty five acres provide a well arranged landscape with many  varieties of flora and fauna and ecological systems. It is salubrious and soothing to your senses. We used to spent hours, enjoying the dexterity of nature, birds, butterflies etc. fluttering from one flower to another and the calls of frogs and some rare birds, while munching a steamed corn or a long mango piece.

         Another place which drew my attention was the farmer’s market locally known as uzhavar chantha,where -in facilities are made by the government to make direct sale of agricultural produces  by the farmers. It is more or less like a regulated market. Fair price to the consumer and reasonable value to the producer and fresh from the farm are the main principles behind this concept. The farmers are allowed to transport their products free in the Local state transport bus.

         We always enjoyed the break fast prepared by our daughter’s mother-in-law. The taste of her crisp uzhunnu vadai and soft iddlis  along with hot hot sambar  and chattini  is unique and we are yet to taste something better. My daughter has been trying to learn the recipe tips but has not yet reached the required standard. May be that cooking is an art bestowed with certain hands. Although they belong to Kuthuparamba now claim to be inhabitants of Coonoor. She has established her identity in the locality and was even elected once as a councillor of Coonoor municipality.

          I still remember the interesting event that took place in one of our such trips. There are no direct bus from Coonoor to Wayanad. We had to catch one from Ootty. It is the only black spot of our travel, because very often they used to cancel the trip or get delayed unusually. More over none knew where the bus will station and passengers run hither and thither trying to board it while in motion in order to grab a seat. That day there was a rush of passengers and a show of strength to board. After a struggle I managed to get in and reserved two seats. My  wife followed me fast and we were comfortably seated, heaving a sigh of relief. While in the hustle and bustle to squeeze through the crowd I had sensed feebly a touch on my pant’s pocket but failed to take cognisance of it. When I sat I did not feel the usual pressure on the pocket and by a reflex searched for the purse and lo it was not there. I was frantic and gave an alarm and jumped out in search of it, but in vain. My complaint to the police man standing beside the bus fell on deaf ears and I returned to the seat as somebody  who lost a combat. Although there was not much cash I was worried about the loss of my driving license and an identity card. Fortunately the bulk of the cash was safe in the hand bag of my wife who always was care full to hug it close to her chest. The man sitting next consoled me by saying that it was a regular incident and done with a connivance. Also gave me an advice to be care full in my next visit and even today I comply with it. Another similar incident when I lost my purse was just in front of Lord Krishna of Guruvayur, which I will share with you later. My only consolation is that in both cases the money has gone to the needy. ….contd

Nurungukal..2..contd…

The snatch:

        I do not remember my mother shopping in a provision shop. That was the duty of the male members in those days, although she insisted for her presence in the case of textiles that too restricted to a particular shop as the owner was our family friend. I think that was the case in every family  till the advent of departmental shops. Many house wives took it as an outing after finishing their daily chore. After settling down at Wayanad in my retirement I used to have plenty of time to accompany my wife in such casual trips. In fact I considered it as an inexpensive frolic as it is a fun to watch the colourful crowd moving from one rack to another. Most of them took it as a social event besides the purchase, for meeting friends and exchanging pleasantries and at times refreshing their culinary expertise. In the course, many new contacts were established which later on lead into ardent friendships. House wives tiptoeing with a trolley full of ready to cook or eat foods in packs of eye catching colours, some precariously balancing a baby with one hand and some tiny tots pulling the tip of the dress of their mother to draw her attention to get a chocobar unmindful of her persistent reprimands, charged the atmosphere with energy and fun. Iam always in praise for those ladies whose contribution in balancing the harmony of the house often go unnoticed and unrecognised.

       It was on such an occasion we met Sajan [not his real name ] a sprightly young man. He was in a casual dress and did not look like a sales executive. He was arranging i a new brand of LED lamps in a stand. With a broad smile he approached us and started pouring in why the lamp was better than the other brands and about the new offers etc. etc.. When he understood that we refused to yield, as a last shot he introduced himself as the son of our neighbour, who was a member of our Panchayat. His attempt did not fail. We accepted the offer and he joyfully volunteered to fix the bulb himself  in the evening and promptly complied with it. It was the beginning of a relationship. Later on I had met him several times from the same store and at many  other places, carrying a bulky bag full of new items fore sale . He was a link of a direct sales agency. I considered him as a roll model in that capacity.

          One day his mother requested me to supply 2 glass of cow’s milk daily to nourish her son  as he was toiling day and night to boost the sales. Then onwards he used to come to our  house exactly at 8.30 in the morning to collect the milk. At that time I used to be in the front veranda reading the news paper over a cup of coffee and it became customary for him to wish me a good morning.

          That day also he strode briskly into the courtyard, in his checked t-shirt and ¾ th pants gave me a laughter and the usual wish. Without lifting my face from the paper I waved my hands. But by an impulse , when I looked up saw him moving away from me in a hurry. At that moment I never thought that it would have been my last glimpse of him. A few hours later when I was in the midst of  a meeting the tragic news reached me that he met with an accident  and is no more and it made me shudder.

           While thinking about him now I am reminded of the great saying …quote “ It does not matter how much I have. What really matters is what I do with what I have..” …unquote……may his soul rest in peace…….contd

Nurungukal..2..contd..

        Some incidents refuse to fade out from our memory. Similarly our mind is restless. It tends to fondle thoughts, which later on transform into actions or fails to click. Some such events, sweet or sour however we wish to delete reappear again and again as the impression is beyond erasing. This is more so in the case of any body who had to head an office. I had many such occasions  to recall.

       I always enjoyed to sip the morning coffee while going through the news paper. Especially the brew made out of the raw Robusta coffee from my wife’s estate in Wayanad.  The announcement of the next pay revision was my interest that morning. We had already chalked out a plan how to spend the arrears. Wife wanted some new gadgets in the kitchen. I insisted for a trip far off to escape from the drudgery of the routine work in the office, where as my little son longed for a tricycle. The first page was devoid of the expected surprise. In dismay I turned to the second which usually  dealt with local news.  I was shocked to set the eyes on a column news, about the nabbing of two of my staff by the intelligence police while accepting a bribe from the contractor who was undertaking a civil work in our warehouse premises. I wondered how those two were involved as they had nothing to do with the civil work. The report said that they threatened the contractor to part with a huge amount, lest they would report to the higher ups about the poor quality of his work. Also that the pair has been whisked to Kochi to produce before a magistrate and subsequently remanded. I had been warning them ever since I smelled about their moves.

         Immediately the news was flashed to my superiors and as usual the building up of a case file was set in motion. Although I was not in any way connected with the incident, it made me restless in answering queries and an apprehension slowly started building up in me whether I lacked in some way to restrain the culprits from the unwary act ?. The departmental enquiry followed and both of them were placed under suspension. But the episode gave an opportunity to those who were waiting for a chance to snub me and dent my records and I was shifted to Dhimapur an area inflicted by terrorists in those days, with a pacifying oral remark that my yeomen service was better needed there!!. But my self respect did not permit to accept that weirdly offer and I remained on medical leave till such time  a benevolent superior helped me to get a posting in Bangalore. 

        This experience gave me a message that management  means keeping your eyes open and it should prevail upon every thing around you as its roots are far and wide and unseen to the naked eye.  …….contd….

Nurungukal…2..contd….

    

         At first I could not recognise the caller. The sound was feeble and cracking. More over the clarity of the sound system of my phone, an outdated model, as descrbed by my grand daughter of age eight years, was weak. I changed my positions with the hope to improve the reception but in vain. It was a female voice and a distant call. When she introduced her and confirmed the person at the receiving end, a thrill passed through me, awakening  a sleeping memmory. She was none other than one of my staff working at Calicut warehouse a few decades ago. The number of such callers have increased recently. Some old workmates made a courtesy visit also. Every such ocassion  gave me a chance to recapitulate at least some of the important events in my official life. She was one of the most efficient staff I had ever had. Very soft spoken and hard working. Everready to accept challenges. She was the first female employee I met, who volenteered to work in the godown along with the men engaged in loading and unloading activity who was always prone in those days to raise volatile issues of labour demands. But to the surprise to all of us she managed to work with them in perfect harmony and it made my job much easier. All though in those days the gender awareness had not attained its present status she managed to prevail upon other male staff in equal terms and at times much above. The trade union activity was just gaining momentum then in the warehouses and I had to be on several occasions function in the roll of a negotiator. It was a challenge which gave me chance to learn much about the chemistry of trade union activity. In fact my tennure at Calicut was a learning ground in labour management, which helped me to face very volatile situations else where in my service. In a way Iam thankfull to the Calicut experience. ….cntd