Nurungukal....2..con

There was heavy transaction on that day in the warehouse. A ship containing  CARE [co op. American relief for every where ]products had berthed at Madras harbour She had to be emptied within the free time. As per our depositors request we decided to operate night shifts and I was in charge of it. It was 5 pm. I came out to take a stock of the pending loads waiting  outside the gate.  Nair was there in active conversation with one of our staff. He followed me to the office. He seldom ventured to enter the premises, except on urgent errants. As he came near to me I understood that he was not in his normal mood. The foul smell of the local brew confirmed my apprehension. I asked him why he had not returned home. He ignored my enquiry and slowly with an unsteady tongue bundled out his heart. As I had some time to spare before the commencement of the night shift I gave him a patient hearing.

  He hailed from a wealthy joint family of Kannur. His father , a martial art [kalari] specialist was powerful and arrogant. There was none to oppose him against his atrocities. Women were his weakness. Many a time he inflicted injuries on his wife and children under the influence of liquor. Nights were dreadful. It was common that he stayed away from the house for days to stray with other women. Nair’s mother was helpless. She was from a poor family with none to support her cause. She fell ill and succumbed to the torture of her husband. Nair was in 10^th std. His life became miserable when his father married another lady.  The stepmother gradually took control of the family affairs which compelled our Nair to escape from his native place, leaving his younger sister to her fate. Tears were rolling down his cheeks despite his efforts to control his emotions. I tried to console him and requested to go home. But he was reluctant  and continued after wiping out the tears....contd 

Nurung      Nurungukal...2....contd...

      For t         For the bachelors working in Central Warehousing Corporation the nearest joint for meals was the mess house run by a Nair family. Nobody knew the correct name of the Nair. Some called him Unni, others addressed him as Kutty. For the  malayalees in Chitalapakkam  they were Unniettan and Chechy. They had no children at that time. Nair’s mess provided homely food at a very law rate. Our life would have been miserable other wise.

                    They had set up this service a few years ago, to be exact from the days when the construction of the ware house was commenced. We knew nothing about from which part of Kerala they hailed. Yet it was anybody’s guess, from their slang, that they were from the northern districts. More over their recipes and tastes tallied with that of Kannur side, especially the fish preparations.

   The mess was open only till 4pm. After that Unniettan used to take an evening walk, and it was his habit  to chat with some of us in the ware house occasionally. It was during these visits he usually collected the dues or to raise a short term loan.  He would spent a few hours near the gate, invariably till the closing of our transactions. I remember it was during such an outing he opened his mind to me about his past and how he landed up in Chittalapakkam. A very interesting episode it was for a bachelor like me.........cntd

Nurungukal..2......

       Chromepet and its adjacent areas, in 1970 were set in for transformation. The process might have been commenced since the laying of a sub urban electric train service,I presume. Earlier to this so- called development activity it was an agriculture belt providing produces to Madras city. Slowly industries like the chrome leather factory emerged. Central ware house was the latest when I was there. Then came many housing schemes and the area gained the status of a satellite township.

       The ware house was located in Chitalapakkam, a few minutes walk from Chromepet railway station. In those days it had the look of a village aspiring for urbanisation. Accommodations for outsiders were very rare. Those available were built in the typical Tamilian style, having the rooms one behind the other ,connected by a common corridor. I managed to locate such a one, considering the rent which I could manage. It was a portion of a house where the owner lived. My wife had some problems to adjust with the hard water. She complained about the loss of her luxuriant plait day after day. Water was sticky and ordinary soap did not form bubbles. But over a period of time we got adjusted to the taste and hardness of the water. To our relief a water supply system was commissioned  after a few months. For shopping we depended on either Thambaram or Mambalam markets. We spent our weekends in Adayar  with my brother and family. Adayar beach provided a perfect setting for a just married couple, unlike Mrina which denied privacy. Gazing at the sun emerging slowly in the morning  from Bay of Bengal piercing a red hole on the horizon provided warmth to the onlooker. Many couples in various shapes and styles from the nearby government quarters used to enjoy a morning stroll on the silky sands, where as we could see a few fishermen heading for the shore, strenuously rowing their catamarans full with the night’s catch. 

Our routine life was interrupted when my wife showed signs of expecting our first child....contd....

Nurungukal....2...

        No other life on earth, except us I believe, celebrate marriage. Being  a social animal, humans need this event a sort of node from the society. In the case of others perhaps copulation is a process of propagation of its progeny. There are set laws of nature to be followed for this activity. But we humans in this case ignore nature and are moved by our own convenience. In my case also it happened on September third of 1970. The day I married.The day I met with the requirement of nature and society. The life after marriage has various dimensions. We are bound by customs. Social obligations and responsibilities force limitations to our activity. But of course with mutual consent marriage is a bliss. And in such a state we pursued our life after marriage ensuring a smooth sail.

         

Nurungukal...contd....

      September third was coming to an end. It was for the first time in my life to spent a whole day in such close proximity with a girl. Ever since I tied the nuptial knot she was with me. She did not speak much but her silence and looks were enough to open her mind. So was her sister and brother-in-law. Occasionally he came to me to talk in praise of her and he wished us to enjoy a very happy future. Her sister always put up a smile and rarely moved from where she was. Even her movement was unusually slow, as if not to hurt the earth. The fragrance from the jasmine  and the smell of the new silk Saree were in a way working as an aphrodisiac in me.  A synergy was mounting in us. But the members of our family as usual, never wanted to put a stop to their entertainment and it went on and on. I think it was my brother-in-law who put an end to it, perhaps after sensing my uneasiness. We were ushered into the bed room with usual acts of fun and excitement. And once inside we were taken over by natural impulses slowly slipping into oblivion.

       I was woken by a loud knock at the door next day morning.  She was in deep slumber. Watching her in that state , although resisted me from leaving the bed, the knock at the door shattered my desire, instead forced me to gently wake her up.

      As we joined the crowd we had to face a lot of routine inquisitive  remarks. Although we tried to evade them, heart of heart we were enjoying such subtle gestures. We were expected to leave for Wayanad early in the morning, to attend a reception. They had arranged a car for the journey. My sister was our representative.

      I had visited Wayanad along with my colleagues a few years ago. It was a pleasant journey especially in the new company, except for the one or two stops en route to provide comfort to some of the members. Wayanad was lush green and the nature was like a garden with full of flowers every where. The ghat road with many twists and turns wound up the hills to enter a cool and salubrious land scape. The ravines,brooks and the gushing water at many falls produced musical notes as if from  thousands of strings. We felt as if we were on he top of the world. As I looked down I saw tiny buildings on a green carpet above which white clouds floated like cotton. On the background a blue canvas hung far away completing the awesome scenery.

        The house is of typical Wayanad style, without much aeration inside, may be to protect from severe cold. It is situated on the side of a hillock facing a s wide stretch of paddy field. There was a small crowd of her relatives and some of their estate workers in waiting. A silence prevailed. Every one talked in hushed tones. It was quite a contrast to what I have experienced in Ponani on such occasions. Most of the men were basking in the sunshine, holding their hands close to the chest and keeping their back to the sun !!. The ladies remained inside and the children like any, were playing around. A few estate workers were crouching far away around a quenched fire.

          Here also there are a few paintings of their elders and the tusk of a huge elephant in the reception room.  The roof is panelled with  wood. There are two replicas of their family temples. These are the craft pieces of one of their carpenters. The surprising piece is a dining table made from a rose wood plank. The top is made out of a single piece without joints of the size of nearly 4’x6’. I was told that there were three such pieces and one was gifted to a British officer. The second one is now decorating as a swing in her sister’s house.You can very well imagine the size of the rose wood tree from which three such pieces would have been made.

          After lunch my sister returned. In the night there was a gathering of their friends and relatives. I was inquisitive about the presence of some Britishers in the crowd. They were the officers from M/S Malayalam Plantations to whom many years ago the family had leased out a chunk of their property.

              Night was getting cooler and cooler. And we spent the second night under the warmth of a woollen blanket in ecstasy and many more there after, sharing  the warmth of each other......[part one concluded]

       

Nurungukal...contd....

          We reached home in time. The pilot party consisting of brother-in-law,sister etc, had already arrived earlier and were waiting to receive us in the traditional style[aarathi etc.]. Then a session of offering milk followed. It was always customary to make fun while the milk is poured in a small spoon as the couple had to adjust their mouth to accept it when some members tried some tricks. Over and over again in every marriage such funny scenes are enacted. This ritual is enjoyed by all and taken lightheartedly. After this orientation it was time for the bride to change dress and be present before the guests.

            We had arranged a get together of our local friends and relatives in the evening.  I met many with whom I had lost contacts. Most of my classmates had already become parents. It was nice to renew the friendship. Some were new settlers in the immediate locality. Many families had moved into our village as it provided all facilities and a peace full atmosphere. All of them had come with gifts wrapped in colourful paper. The size varied depending on the intimacy. But a few,while taking leave discreetly left a brown cover containing cash  in my hand. Earlier days this custom was not prevailing in our society. Only very close relatives reciprocated each other to offer a gift or helping hand in cash. We had received a number of silver glasses and plates, a few gold coins etc as gifts to my sister.Some of the silver glasses are still available in a wooden Almira on the first floor of our house in Ponani.

          The menu was as usual a laddu, some mixture[same ingredients as of now],a ripe plantain and a piece of cake wrapped in a butter paper and of course a cup of strong tea all served in porcelain plate and cups. Paper products were not in use.

          The relatives of the bride en block paid a visit and left leaving her eldest sister and husband as care takers and escorts. Gradually the invites left one by one and it was time for the family members to engage in private conversations. The venue was taken over by my eldest brother and brother-in-law to crack jokes and prompting others to make fun. Mother was immensely happy and joined with us to enjoy every minute. It was always like that when ever we met together. But now as the quorum has shrunk we are not able to do full justice to our entertainment sessions. The major players have left us one by one  creating gaps in our family fabric. Now we are depending on the next generation to reestablish the lost grandeur of our family get together. We have not lost hope as some of them have inherited the spirit in abundance.....contd....

       

        

      

Nurungukal...contd...

           Circling the Deity, hand in hand, supporting each other, was a new experience. Her grip was gentle but firm and the occasional pressing of her thump on my right palm conveyed silent messages. Her attire was simple and elegant. She looked graceful with a bunch of fragrant jasmines and traditional ornaments. The emerald green nagapada thali was a perfect match to the Thulasi garland.In perfect harmony and rhythm we completed the rounds accompanied by our nearest relatives. The procedure connected with our nuptial ceremony step by step is a symbolic expression of entering into a silent contract of a life long partnership. An understanding of mutual respect and give and take. Even the offering of milk to the newly wedded, conveyed an assurance from the near and dear their support to the couple in their future journey.

             We were then taken to a nearby guest house where I found the other party had arranged a photo session. Fortunately a snap of that event is a precious document which we enjoy even today. Her mother an embodiment of humility stood close to us silently all the while radiating rays of love and intimacy. The way in which her eldest brother was conducting the proceedings left an impression of his meticulous planning. Even now he is the best in her family as far as the financial management is concerned.

            The guest house belonged to a very influential family in feroke. Even my mother used to say about their legacy. They owned tile factories, theatres etc. etc. Poothery family was in the high echelons of the society. Like them there were a few more names who prevailed high in the social and business world of Malabar. When I had visited Guruvayur along with my parents as a boy, I used to look at this guest house as a wonder land, comparing the facilities of the Sathram lodgings in which we used to stay. The temple, the pond ,the banyan tree, Sathrams, coffee shops, the wandering cows, the ladies with palm leaf umbrellas and of course the caprisoned elephants is the canvas I still prefer to visualise about Guruvayoor.

                     The feast was arranged in the Sathram hall. Those days there were no tables and chairs. I found many struggling to come to a squatting pose. The dishes were tasty and the size of the Guruvayur pappadam was big enough to cover many items. But I could not do justice. Leaving a big crowd to be attended to, our party left for Ponani as we were supposed to enter our house before a specified time....contd...