Nurungukal….

   When ever I visited ancient monuments of great dynasties especially that of Rajaputs and Mugals, I took immense pleasure in taking my imagination on wings to visualise the proceedings in a court room or a love scene of some of the eternal lovers of those days. Often in my dreams and solitude characters from history flashed through, taking me to ecstasy. Similar thoughts appeared in me when I used to walk through the lengthy corridors of some of the very old temples in Tanjore, Madurai etc. Although I had all these days wished to meet a Maharaja or characters of those days  in flesh and blood, it still remains unfulfilled.

                 In Kerala there were many regional kings and Queens but they refrained from creating monuments of immense  grandeur as their counter parts in North India, Tamil Nadu or Karnataka. May be that they, even from old days had a better sense of social responsibility and commitments in handling public funds. They were  democratically concerned about the welfare of their subjects , rather than building edifices for posterity. The immense wealth which still remains in the coffers of one of the famous temples in our capital city is a standing example of their frugal princely life style.

               When I think of prince and princess of ester years, I have to drag my memory of those days in college. Many of my friends hailed from Raja families of Kottakal, Nilambur and Kozhikode, different clans of Samoothiry who was, as history tells us, instrumental for hosting and allowing foreigners to forge trade relations with far off continents thus stimulating world wide markets for our aromatic and spice produces.

                     I also have a faint memory of my audience with  the head of one of the Raja in our native place. We addressed him in respect as Thampuran. Actually in those days , before the land reforms acts in Kerala the ownership of vast area of agricultural lands and forests vested with such hierarchies. Those who toiled in the land, only held possession to carry on cultivation to derive a livelihood. A designated revenue has to be yearly remitted to the local Raja. Our family also was enjoying the benefits of such a land. Once or twice my father entrusted me to remit the dues, with strict instructions that when ever the Raja gave audience I had to adhere to a protocol which included, to enter his room only when I am called, to respect him with folded hands, to ensure that my dhothi to be unfolded below the knees, to climb the wooden stair case without making noise,  etc etc. As I did not have a foot wear, the removal of it did not arise. But on reaching the palace (kotta ) I forgot the instructions and straight away walked into his room,covering a lengthy court yard and climbing the ladder loudly clattering the loose wooden planks. Thampuran was sitting on an ordinary wooden chair which looked much old and unpolished. To my surprise it was the same one who freely moved about with out any ado among the  commoners in the ball badminton tournaments and rummy sessions sponsored by the then popular Union Sports Club of Ponnani.This club was once the meeting ground of  sport lovers of Ponnani. The yearly ball bad mention tournament was an event to reckon with. High ranking players from far and near participated and in those days teenagers like me were inspired to be part of that Mela.   

                       He was smoking holding the cigarette popping up through the middle finger and puffing out  the smoke in perfect rings into the air. Much later I had witnessed to our curiosity, my brother-in-law doing this style of emitting series of smoke rings. One of my elder brothers  was a chain smoker. He held the burning stub between his lips precariously without inhaling a single puff till it ceased burning at the tip of the filter.  One of my college mates, a Muslim boy used to have  one or two quick puffs from a mini beedi during the intervals  in college, and occasionally I also ventured to enjoy a couple of puffs with him. But the Raja’s style still remain etched in my heart.  

                       The Thampuran offered me a seat smilingly. He accepted the amount which I offered After introducing me with all humility abiding to the dress rehearsal given by my father.  While writing the receipt he enquired about my father’s welfare and health and to my surprise about the productivity of the crops, for which I drew a total blank.

                         I dissented the stair, and this time silently, as I had already developed a high esteem of that unassuming, democratic Raja. When I was about to leave the gate, looked back and had a glimpse of the Kotta, which was at the verge of dilapidation. I could very well imagine the plight of the financial position of that Royal family and  it might have  only worsened after the land reforms later on.

                       Conventions and customs have changed. Yet we face challenges to attain contentment, which is distancing always like a mirage. Its an illusion that refuses to merge with reality.