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 More over the clarity of the sound system of my phone, an outdated model, as descrbed by my grand daughter of age eight years, was weak.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

Nurungukal…2…contd…

    It was a mixed gathering yesterday to initiate an awareness program on the relevancy of observing a Kerala’s tradition in food habits in tune with changing seasons. There were a few of my age group, some officials, a batch of Adivasi girls and their elders and to set an apt mood the presence of one or two with long grey hair and long khadar shirts and shoulder bags and many other familiar faces whom you can see in such functions occupying the front seats. Among them I sat with a lost face occasionally wiping the unseasonal sweat with my long towel in the dais not knowing how to start my talk on the importance of ten leaves which are to be included in our diet in the Malayalam month of Karkitakam. It’s a practise which is defunct now as our tastes and habits have already been forced to be changed. To my  surprise the young Lady who was responsible for organising the class came to my rescue and whispered that I can dwell on any subject related to the custom but I should prolong till the dignitary who is to deliver the main speech reports at the venue. I breathed a sigh of relief and waited for my turn, trying to grab a string from my child hood.

       Slowly it started unfolding like a movie film so vivid and clear and as I took the mike in my hand the picture of my mother, in her immaculate traditional attire holding a lighted coconut leaf torch in the left hand and in the other an old bamboo winnow in which some symbolic representation remained to evict the evils from the house, emerged as if in a trance. My brothers and sister took positions behind her holding long banana stalks and ready to enact our roll. In the winnow there were three balls of cooked rice, yellow, white and black. They were placed in the jack fruit leaves folded and pinned at the tip. Before them six leaves pinned in the similar way was placed with cotton threads. An old and used small broom and a ladder made out of banana stalk found their places in the two corners of the winnow.  Slowly mother lifted the winnow and the torch to make a round motion covering the nook and corner of the  room and moved from one room to another repeating the movements rhythmically and artistically starting from the kitchen and ending at the back veranda in a set order. While she does this we followed her chanting in chorus poti po po po, shipothy makkalum va va va, simultaneously beating the banana stalk on the floor to make  to to to sound. She handedover the winnow and the torch to a lady named Devaki who had been with our family for many years to assist mother, attaining the status of a family member. Now it is her turn to go round the house three times while all of us chased her shouting and beating till she escapes , in a trance to dispose  off the winnow and torch under a bush on the banks of a nearby canal. The episode culminated when all of us took a dip in our pond, which was filled with water during the torrent rains received in edavapathy  and earlier nhattuvelas. This event took one or two hours before dusk. Finally all of us sat for a prayer contending that our house and surroundings are clean and tidy so would be our souls.  Off course the cleaning program was over one or two days ahead of the above ritual.

        Next slide in me showed the bundle of different varieties of plants and herbs placed out side the gate on the  ground  smeared with cow dung. It was collected by Chatha one of father’s assistants who was supposed to be an expert in those days to identify each and every flora and fauna of the locality. The value and spirit behind that collection is the best example of conservation practises and touch and feel education about an enigmatic nature. It loudly explained the complexity of life and its existence. I strongly feel that it is such closeness with nature in our child hood might be a reason now to our concern about the damage  caused.

          As a matter of practise the eldest male child in the family  lifts the bundle after a pooja and carrys to the house while all of us saying nira nira poli poli, pathayam nira etc etc. Then inside the house it would be placed in the natumuttam . We would eagerly wait for the moment when our mother would bring the sweet ada for the offering, to grab our share is always a sweet frolic and for the feast afterwards with puthari payasam. This event comes to an end when the herbs and plants are fixed in each corner and door of the house.

          I did not know how long I took to depict this nostalgic memory. The young lady passed on a slip of paper  indicating that the time is up. I was also exhausted and reluctantly closed my talk with a satisfaction of giving me an opportunity to open  my memory  cheppu [cask].

        

Nurungukal..2..contd…

      It was a shock to hear the death of one of my ex-collegues and dear friend Vinoben. We joined on the same day in Southern Railways in 1963, the year in which I lost my father. Ever since for many years we lived together along with other friends in several places. Although he left Railways to join in Central Warehousing Corporation, we maintained our friendship and it remained intact till his death a few days ago. It was he who promted me to join CWC. I do not know what attracted us both to be so close. May be the mind set or wavelenghth or the chemistry in our attitudes or approach to issues that we face in life. It was quite sure that both of us endured challenges in a positive spirit and was free of worries. Our life style matched almost same except when it came to traditions. I would say that he was one step ahead in breaking the bonds of values wich lacked scientific rationale.

       It will be very intersting if we,at a later stage in life make an evaluation of the diferent types of bond that one had with friends at varrious periods. My experience was not different. Take for example our class mates in primary  school. Most of them were benchmates. It was casual and temporeary. Wereas from high scool onwards we had a tendancy to select or choose one who fit in to our standards. In college the friendship attained more meaning and that made us close life long in certain cases. I think that may be one reason why we refresh the friendship by organizing get togethers.

        As we move from one place to another in our official or social settings many faces remain with us subconciously for years. Like that of our family docters, shopkeepers with whom we have an account, the rickshaw wala who used to shuttle  our children to and fro or a family friend whom we might have choosen either from our official or social circle or rarely a collegue or very often a good neighbour.

         Still more interesting is the friendship we acquire in the course of a train journey, especially when it is to a distant destination. But that would happen to only those who engage in conversation as the journey proceeds. The process is slow. It often starts with an enquiry about our destination, the intention, followed by a curiosity about our job and slowly it will slip into a vociferous debate on th current politics and policies of the Govt. I remember about an incident in which a co-travellor who was silent all along suddenly became furious about a remark I made on the integrity of a local politition. I was virtually taken aback from his sudden reaction and had to seek the help of other passengers to get extricated from a bad  situation which would have culminated in a phisical tustle. I was always comfortable in the company of soldiers as they had many adventurous stories to depict which often kept us away from the monotony. They became saviours to those who need some physical help. We felt a sense of security while travelling in their company.

       My wife used to get in friendship with our neighbours more easily than me, although she is not talkative, yet confirming to the saying that a silent listner is a good conversationalist. Normaly I used to be a bit choosy in picking up neighbourhood friends.

       Apart from many dignitories with whom I could fortunately develop a raport, I have in credit a strain of friends from th lower strata of life also. I proudly consider the network of friends I could maintain through this media and the personal contacts as an asset which provides me a linkage beyond the geographical barriers. They often appear in my dreams or solitude to provide a nostalgia beyond description.

      

       

Nurungukal..2..contd..

    It was very heavy as I lifted the bag of a 6^th standard student. She was stooping while scurrying to the nearby school. Out of curiosity I requested her to open it and show me the contents. There were a dozen text books neatly wrapped in brown paper. Another set of note books much larger in size than what we used in our schooldays, a lunch box and water bottle made the bag bulging. With much strain she lifted it with her weak hands and adjusted to rest on her back. Now I knew why she was stooping.

     I made my memory chip to open and the display was quite different and interesting. With much less number of books, secured by a rubber band cut out of a punctured and abandoned  cycle tube, me with my neighbourhood friends ran up and down to our school freely, kicking what ever that came on our way, a pool of water, an empty coconut shell or a rotten mango, or lingering here and there to catch a dragonfly or to bring down a bunch of mangos by a sharp shoot. Our books were  wrapped in old news paper or old calender sheets. Some came with a cover showing the smiling faces of film stars. And my text books were that of my elders, never a new one  denying me to enjoy the  fragrance of a fresh print.

     She had a colourful umbrella neatly rolled up which fitted correctly into the side pocket of the bag. Mine was the one which my father was using for many years with long bend handle refusing to flung as the bamboo handle might have swollen in the middle due to absorption of moisture. To camouflage the grey colour of the old cloth we used to dip in water. The cloth too would have several patch work and looked like the coat of Mammed Kakka in the film Kandambecha coat. I used to hang it on my right shoulder folded and tied with a piece of jute twine as we covered the distance to the school in batches.

     I envy the neat and crisp uniform the children wear  now, some with a neck tie and shoes. I went on bare foot and my shorts rarely had all the buttons intact, instead we used sharp thorns of koovalam to pin.  We knew the exact time to start from home not from a clock but by  looking at the position of the sun light falling on the floor of the nadumuttam  of our nalukettu  house.

     I looked for a long time at the frail girl walking away from me briskly, swaying her hands right and left, often adjusting the bag and thought about the burden she is carrying  which I hope can ensure her a bright future.

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