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

Nurungukal...contd...

     The next day at the SSB camp it was very interesting and adventurous.After an initial briefing we were asked to perform many tasks, to test our physical abilities. Some of them were individual and others as a team. In some we were asked to lead a team to carryout some events similar to a military operation. Those who had some coaching or previous experience managed well. In my case I had to purely depend on the games and frolics during my school days. For example the swinging during thiruvathira festival along with the children helped me to climb on a rope or pass through a rubber tyre hung from the branch of a tall tree. Similarly to climb a wall was easier to me as it was a regular fun as a boy to jump a wall to pick up mangoes from others compound !. But my performance to carryout a task as a team leader in many cases were not up to the mark.  In one case I remember I was asked to use the team to take a big barrel from one position to a far off post without touching some areas marked as out of bonds, with in a specified time.I failed to finish in time. Such events actually tested how best we use man power and our ability to plan,to accomplish a given job in an emergent situation.

    Next day it was to assess your public speaking qualities. We had to address a group extempore on a subject. Another was to express your opinion on a given subject in a group discussion.. A few dominated the discussion with out allowing others to speak. But the question was how effectively we drove the points. Here I found many were silent. Most interesting in this category was how you established your point of view on an issue. I remember the issue  before our group was who should be punished whether the person accepting a bribe or the one who offered it. My argument was that the one who accepted the bribe was the guilty, because he is supposed to be the guardian of justice. We passed through many such tests and on the final day it was announced who were selected for the medical test. From our batch only two were lucky and one was an NCC officer and the other was a boy from Delhi who had under gone some coaching camps.

          Although I was not successful, the things I managed to learn from the camp were very valuable. It gave me chance to understand my plus and minus points. It was an eve opener. To live as an officer in a camp like that was blissful. I enjoyed the whole episode and bid good bye to it carrying with me a message ,....to reach excellence in what ever job we are in it needs hard work and an organised mind set......contd

Nurungukal...contd...

      It was dinner time in the SSB camp and all of us were directed to assemble in he dinning hall. It was fairly big. All the candidates sat around a long dinning table. The settings on the table with the china plates, forks, spoons etc made me a little bit nervous. Never in my life before I have eaten food in such an alien world !!. More over my friend had cautioned me that every movement will be closely  watched to assess our reactions. I was totally out of context. A set of uniformed bearers marched in to serve the food. A thick fluid resembling my favourite rice porridge was the first to come in bowls. It was sandwiched on the table with a set spoons in different sizes, a fork and a knife !. On the table there were some small porcelain mugs filled with green and black liquids. A few pieces of crisp bread pieces stared at me . Then all on a sudden a stubborn voice from no where alerted us “yes  gentle men please enjoy your dinner...”. I looked to the one next to me and he was  already  in action. Then the hunger in me directed to manage the situation  in my traditional way.Chappathies and many  dishes in succession followed and I stuffed all of them with out hesitation come what may, totally ignoring the unknown eye on me. When finished I looked around. A few of them were wiping their lips with a piece of cloth, which was untouched by me. Later I knew  that it would have been spread on the lap. But I felt no need of it ,even during my later life, as I had already been trained in my childhood to take kanhi with a plavila by a jerk, from a plate, squatting on the floor. Never it had missed the target!. When I was about to leave, the one siting on my right gestured to wait. It was time for the deserts. After a sumptuous dinner we retired for the day.

           Even now I wonder, why we follow a tradition mistakenly branded as sophisticated. Many may disagree, yet, let us try to recognise our culture and uphold it before the world. Take lessons from China and Japan.........contd.... 

Nurubgukal....contd...

     I was in search of a better placement.The training as an NCC cadet had kindled my intention to join Indian army. An opportunity came when the army decided to recruit officers in an emergency quota when the war broke out in one of our borders.Some how I managed to pass through the written examination and a preliminary test.  I had difficulty in dealing English fluently. Even now I am not satisfied with my grammar. When I went through a guide to face the SSB[service selection board] ordeal my hope started withering. One of my friends in Railway who had earlier an experience in SSB tried to pass on what ever he knew about it. His tips helped me develop a strategy . The duration of the test was seven days in the army selection board in Bangalore city.

          There was an army warrant to travel by train in second class. And from that moment onwards the candidates were treated as officers. I could feel a sense of temporary elevation in my status.There after every movement was in military precision. The order stipulated the steps to be taken with meticulous details. It had even mentioned about the dress code for each occasion. With much difficulty I managed to comply with them.The men at the railway out post took us to the camp and in batches the candidates were accommodated in different rooms. There were two or three Malayalees in my batch and the rest were North Indians. A JCO was in charge to guide and he remained with us till we left the camp....contd... 

Nurungukal....contd...

    She was living in a dilapidated hut near to my quarters. But our first meeting was when I was on duty. As I was issuing tickets one day I heard a giggle from behind. She was there in a red pavadai smiling at me. She was beautiful,sprightly with curly hair, a little dark in colour. She remained there for a while looking fascinatingly the way I was punching the tickets and then vanished. I was curious and soon collected details about her. She was my neighbour. Deserted by her parents she lived with her grandmother who was a widow. The old lady found a living by selling mainly ground nuts, vegetables etc. From morning to late evening.She would sit under the shadow of a Neem tree, near to the station selling her merchandise. Many purchased her goods out of sympathy or considering her fight against destiny. I have seen many others of similar fate in the streets crying for alms. The girl’s name was Kanmani. She will be around this old woman,either playing or slumbering under the shadow, enjoying a cool breeze. There was no question of her attending an school as there was none nearby.

  As the old woman was not having any teeth she used to pound the tobacco in a small oral of the size of a small udukku before chewing. The movement of her lips going up and down on a wrinkled face was incessant and stops only while eating or drinking. The food she and her granddaughter  shared was a preparation of ragi known as kuzhu  in that area. After the lunch both enjoyed a siesta huddling together. A scene which can be depicted as a symbol of caring each other.

   I made friendship with this pair. Once in a way purchased a few items from them. Got in conversation with Kanmani. She was intelligent and gave her some books or presents. Some times Mamy would open her heart and one or two drops of tears would roll down through the wrinkles. Immediately she would get composed as if one should not be succumbed to fate. She lost her sun in a liquor tragedy and his wife put an end to her life out of desperation. She used to tell me both incidents were actions against nature. She believed in an invincible power and not in blind worship.

    I do not know where Kanmani is now. But in me a picture still persists, a giggling  girl leaning on the Neem tree with her hands behind showing her little teeth. She was just six years at that time.....contd