Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disastrous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend up to more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scattered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjacent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engineering and human effort. Another piece of architecture is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond attached to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolics in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in meddling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

 Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disasterous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend upto more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scatered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjascent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engeneering and human effort. Another piece of architechure is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond atatched to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolicks in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in medeling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

      Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disasterous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend upto more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scatered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjascent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engeneering and human effort. Another piece of architechure is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond atatched to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolicks in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in medeling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

      

      

Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disasterous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend upto more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scatered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjascent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engeneering and human effort. Another piece of architechure is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond atatched to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolicks in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in medeling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

      

Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disasterous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend upto more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scatered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjascent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engeneering and human effort. Another piece of architechure is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond atatched to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolicks in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in medeling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

 Nurungukal……

                The tractor carrying two large tanks of water, collected from a nearby river was shuttling from morning till late evening. I have been noticing this since last summer. It is very clear that many wells in the area have gone dry and locals are forced to depend on this source. One can very well imagine the intensity of an impending disasterous draught. This apprehension has induced me to offer my land to dig a pond sponsored by the Block Panchayat. Now the work is progressing in top gear as they have to finish it before the end of the financial year. When I heard about the cost, running into a few lakh rupees, I wondered how much would have been spent to dig a temple pond a few thousand years ago, considering their size, which in some case extend upto more than an acre. Such huge infrastructures would have been designed with the sole intention of harvesting rain water, because a small pond would have met the demand, considering the population of those days. What a foresight our fathers had, which the present rulers lack. There are plenty of such man made eco systems, scatered though out the length and breadth of Kerala. Many sacred groves and nearby ponds are even today maintained on certain believes and rituals which help conservation of water and biodiversity. Where as many laws of recent times lay dormant with out efficacy.

       Last year I had an occasion to visit the well known Sree Rama temple at Thiruvangad. Apart from the majesty of the temple complex, what attracted me most was the enormity and perfection of the adjascent pond.  It is a fabulous piece of engeneering and human effort. Another piece of architechure is the pond of Peralassery. The vastness of Panniyur  Varahamurthy Temple pond near to Anakkara fills your mind with divinity and peace. As I was enjoying the serenity of the crystal clear water column of Thiruvangad pond, my thoughts for a while wandered into a distant past. Splashing of children, gasping to reach the shore, in a similar pond [chira ] in my native place Ponnani.  And about the fun we used to enjoy in a pond atatched to our ancestral home in the company of a gang of boys and girls, often competing to touch the other bank first or embark on an errand to fetch a blossomed water lilly like the legendary Bheema. I seldom witness such frolicks in our social life now, instead encounter lonely souls immersed in medeling with a gadget incessantly for hours.  

         It is a sure sign that we are wandering into an alien culture abandoning one which had values attune with nature and sustainable living. The so called developments have made much in roads into our modest and time tested standard of living. Unaware of the dangers we have lost the way. Let us jointly under stand the mistakes and thrive to come out for the sake of the survival of our future generations.

      

      

Nurungukal…….

      I always used to hesitate to take a phone call early in the morning. Because nowadays often it would be from the secretary of our milk society seeking help to shoot a problem from one of the collection units or a relative to convey a bad news. But this time it was from my friend who is a known ornithologist. I was fascinated by his enquiry  as to whether squirrels are frequenting my premises now or not. I said yes and wanted to know about his intention. I was still more surprised when he said that a student from a Tamil Nadu University is  here to study about them as part of her Phd studies.

    She was just out of her teens and almost gate crashed into my court yard in a scooter, which she managed  from a local friend. It was about eleven a.m., a time when usually squirrels hesitate to roam about, especially now when the mercury is much above the normal. My  first question was why did she choose this subject. She answered without hesitation that squirrels have an important roll to play in seed distribution. I was convinced and lead her to places in my compound where they frequented and left her to carry on her job.

         As I returned home humming ‘annara kanna va …….’ I tried to visualise a very old incident.  After a chase to catch a squirrel which fell from our roof I could manage to grab its tail and to my dismay only the  furry skin of its tail remained in my hand and it escaped unhurt. Much later in my life I knew that squirrels shed their skin as a defence mechanism to dodge from  predators.Similarly all of us might have noticed how agile they are to escape from the clutches of a charging cat, by taking refuge on a coconut tree followed by a shower of agree chatter.

    I know him only as my childhood friend who brought down ripe mangos from a towering granny tree. Many a time  ripe mangoes fell from their tiny hands, which would have otherwise remained out of reach to our watering mouths. looking at their despair and agree face for loosing the catch, reminded us about the proverb ‘andi poya annan’. 

      Their tenacity to build a nest with balls of coir fibre is a lesson to us. In pairs they move around to collect the fibre. After meticulously rolling it into balls they carry them to the selected place in their small mouth and arrange a nest with the dexterity of a trained craft man. In the case of humans a strenuous schooling might be needed to accomplish such tasks.  But here its only a gift of the nature.

    Above all what made me admire this small animal was its  roll in building a mighty bridge to help Rama in his endeavour to retrieve his beloved. Whether the three strips on its back is a mark of gratitude by Rama for  the voluntary gesture  or an impression of  truth in the proverb ‘annara kannanum thannalayathu’ is left to our imagination. The fact remains that it is not the size but the intention and magnitude of the service which has to be acknowledged.

        Nature has bestowed upon on him an important responsibility of propagating seeds , which he is doing relentlessly without expecting a reward or award. There are many like him carrying out a silent revolution to help the humanity. Yet many among us crave to be known as cultivators, conservators and saviours. I wish the study of this budding scientist from Tamil Nadu would help us understand better, our roll in saving Mother Earth and how small is our wisdom and effort in that matter……

Nurungukal………contd…

     A function to celeberate the marriage of  a close relative is always an oppurtunity we enjoy to meet our childhood partners. Invarriably most of them flock enblock. A few months back we had such an occasion. In my case  no doubt a bunch of flash backs emerged crystal clear.

        Like ducklings we used to traverse many a mile in search of fun and adventure. Our village was a model to provide a set of creativity. Each day was special. There was no prompting and we made use of any thing that came handy, either to make a foot ball out of hay, or a  hocky ball with a hard nut of pine tree, Even a hut with all the traditional rooms, with left over coconut leaves and to cook a meal using what ever we could manage to squeeze from mother’s kitchen.

     In those days a wedding ceremony had some unique events which ensured the participation of even tiny tots. For e.g: A set of beautifully dressed girls would be arrayed at the entrance of the venue which always was a panthal in the court yard and not any hired auditorium ,to sprinkle rose water when the groom’s party enters.  They used to mischiviously take liberty to make the spray lavish on their favourites. The groom had to pass through a gang of naughty tots who used to peep through the gaps in the crowd, and ocassionaly making funny comments. Teenagers who would move about in flocks never missed an opportunity to have a glimps or pass comments on their opposites. I still remember how we used to rush, pulling and pushing each other to grab a lemon and a tiny bocquet from the silver plate which one of the elder boys would be struggling to keep away from our onslaught, immediately after the  ceremony. Next is an attempt to be a member in the team of food servers and invrriably one of us would  be lucky to be assigned to serve a minor item like salt. Because those days one should know where each item has to be served on the plantain leaf.  The whole premise become a hub, like a bee hive, so energized and vociferous. Each participant had a pre determined roll to play irrespective of age and everyone was conscious  about it.

      But lo, nowadays I used to feel like a stranger when a set of uniformly attired girls ushered in by an event manager, welcomed you with a forced smile and folded hands at the gate and guided you to your seat. Even the close relatives appear to be insignificant before the event manager. Not to mention the interference of the vedio and photographers.

      

    Today I just avoided the smile of the strange girls and also the welcome drink served in a paper cup and entered the auditorium. It was cool inside and the hall was packed yet silent. We managed to find seats in the middle of a row avoiding to stumble upon any body. I looked around to locate any familiar faces. The couple near to me was not comfortable with my restlesness. After a frantic search I managed to identify one with a grey hair waving at me from the other end of the row. When I focused on him I could, to my joy identify a full row of familiar faces, waving their frail hands in union. Then every thing happened in quick succession and we managed to gather around the eldest of the lot to exchange pleasantries.

               After a patient waiting, the door of the dining hall was opened like that of a sanctum sanctorium of a temple. After a struggle we could manage to find seats although in defferent tables. Once again I tried to sharpen my ears to the shouts of Appu Menon who used to, in our old days control the meals distribution. But unfortunately I could hear only the cracking sound of a trolly carrying a big rice bowl. But I refused to snatch away from the past and visualized the towering Appu Menon standing before me and jerking dexterously from it just the adequate quantity of fine traditional cooked rice into my leaf. Before I could come to myself I found my leaf full of rice and sambar scattered all over. I finished eating in haste , fefusing to taste the payasams served in paper cups, as an attempt to keep fresh my memories of the golden days. There was a serpentine que waiting to wish the newly married. As we moved towards it the strange girl appeared once again to stop us for a while which I accepted with reluctance, but giving me an opportunity to slumber into my sweet past………

Nurungukal………contd…

     A function to celebrate the marriage of  a close relative is always an opportunity we enjoy to meet our childhood partners. Invariably most of them flock en block. A few months back we had such an occasion. In my case  no doubt a bunch of flash backs emerged crystal clear.

        Like ducklings we used to traverse many a mile in search of fun and adventure. Our village was a model to provide a set of creativity. Each day was special. There was no prompting and we made use of any thing that came handy, either to make a foot ball out of hay, or a  hockey ball with a hard nut of pine tree, Even a hut with all the traditional rooms, with left over coconut leaves and to cook a meal using what ever we could manage to squeeze from mother’s kitchen.

     In those days a wedding ceremony had some unique events which ensured the participation of even tiny tots. For e.g: A set of beautifully dressed girls would be arrayed at the entrance of the venue which always was a panthal in the court yard and not any hired auditorium ,to sprinkle rose water when the groom’s party enters.  They used to mischievously take liberty to make the spray lavish on their favourites. The groom had to pass through a gang of naughty tots who used to peep through the gaps in the crowd, and occasionally making funny comments. Teenagers who would move about in flocks never missed an opportunity to have a glimpse or pass comments on their opposites. I still remember how we used to rush, pulling and pushing each other to grab a lemon and a tiny bouquet from the silver plate which one of the elder boys would be struggling to keep away from our onslaught, immediately after the  ceremony. Next is an attempt to be a member in the team of food servers and invariably one of us would  be lucky to be assigned to serve a minor item like salt. Because those days one should know where each item has to be served on the plantain leaf.  The whole premise become a hub, like a bee hive, so energised and vociferous. Each participant had a pre determined roll to play irrespective of age and everyone was conscious  about it.

      But lo, nowadays I used to feel like a stranger when a set of uniformly attired girls ushered in by an event manager, welcomed you with a forced smile and folded hands at the gate and guided you to your seat. Even the close relatives appear to be insignificant before the event manager. Not to mention the interference of the video and photographers.

      

    Today I just avoided the smile of the strange girls and also the welcome drink served in a paper cup and entered the auditorium. It was cool inside and the hall was packed yet silent. We managed to find seats in the middle of a row avoiding to stumble upon any body. I looked around to locate any familiar faces. The couple near to me was not comfortable with my restlessness. After a frantic search I managed to identify one with a grey hair waving at me from the other end of the row. When I focused on him I could, to my joy identify a full row of familiar faces, waving their frail hands in union. Then every thing happened in quick succession and we managed to gather around the eldest of the lot to exchange pleasantries.

               After a patient waiting, the door of the dining hall was opened like that of a sanctum sanatorium of a temple. After a struggle we could manage to find seats although in different tables. Once again I tried to sharpen my ears to the shouts of Appu Menon who used to, in our old days control the meals distribution. But unfortunately I could hear only the cracking sound of a trolley carrying a big rice bowl. But I refused to snatch away from the past and visualised the towering Appu Menon standing before me and jerking dexterously from the bamboo basket, just the adequate quantity of fine traditional cooked rice into my leaf. Before I could come to myself I found my leaf full of rice and sambar scattered all over. I finished eating in haste , refusing to taste the payasams served in paper cups, as an attempt to keep fresh my memories of the golden days. 

          There was a serpentine cue waiting to wish the newly married. As we moved towards it the strange girl appeared once again to stop us for a while which I accepted with reluctance, but gave me an opportunity to slumber into my sweet past………

Nurungukal………….

     

Their first visit to our neighbourhood, a densely inhabited area, was sudden, short and unexpected. The pair of pachyderms  tusker surreptitiously trespassed into our locality under the cover of darkness, consumed a stretch of banana plants and retraced their path eluding an angry mob. The damage was costly and the target land resembled a war torn ground. From the size of the foot prints one can easily imagine the size of the animals. A boy on his way to collect the bundle of news paper from the nearby town had a glimpse of their long tusks as they were retreating in hurry at the first streak of twilight in the eastern horizon. The incident virtually hurt the otherwise peaceful locality. For the next couple of days the topic filled the air and all and sundry activated their social groups with the evidences of havoc done by our animal friends. Some even tried to mould a make belief contention that the pair are the descendants of a forgone herd who would have been reigning the hillock known as ANOMKUNNU and they have just activated by instinct an elephant path frequented by their ancestors many  years ago. As usual the memory of the invasion slowly vanished from our minds. But contrary to our wishful thinking, the pair appeared exactly after a month. A lady on hearing an unfamiliar sound peeped through her window  to witness them uprooting her plantain, a scene which will remain in her with a shrill. But to her surprise they moved slowly and left her premises placing the plant just in the porch of her little house, without causing any damage.  This time they refused to return, but remained in the vicinity for two days as if to establish a right on their ancestral domain and right of way.  Again they returned without much persuasion although this time the officials were ready to meet any eventuality. I heard today that the same pair is stationed in a coffee estate near to us. That means they are very serious about their intention of retrieving their lost ground, something precious and essential for the existence of their tribe. So far there is no loss to life or property. But how long they will hold their patience is to be seen.

       The episode has not attracted any intense media attention as in the case of Ottaplam sojourn on the banks of NILA. May be that ours is comparatively a low profile village.

       This conflicts between man and animal  on territories are to be dealt case by case. But in general the main issue is survival. The depletion of healthy forest systems denies sufficient food and water to our fore runners on earth, due to our encroachments to their territory and the lack of effective management of forest wealth. Let us hope that a day will ultimately dawn when a better harmony will prevail and till such time we would love to bear with the frequent visits of THEIR MAJESTIES… dum, dum, dum, pee, pee,pi……

Nurungukal…

     He narrated the incident with the fluency of a story teller. The flow was in correct sequence. There was no element of imagination. The young Poojari was in a trance,  as he described the unusual encounter, last night he had with a Fairy in the temple premises.

      He was young, dark, and muscular with long curly hair, which  fell below his broad shoulders. When he smiled the teeth sparkled like a crescent in a dark night. The eyes were expressive and his movements had the dexterity of a dancer. In nutshell he fit into the category of a CHULLAN , a glossary, the new gen girls use to describe a smart guy.

      It was after a frantic search we could manage to select him as the Poojari of our temple, because no member of the traditional Namboodiri family was willing to accept our offer. More over the temple is situated in the middle of a vast tea estate, isolated far away from human habitation.  He was just out of his teens and hailed from a remote village in Madurai. He had some training in conducting poojas from his uncle who was respected by all for his knowledge on such matters and was known as SASTRY.

       The story was told to us during one of our regular visits to the temple, usually after dusk to attend the deeparadhana. We selected the time mainly to get a full darsan as there would be no other devotees. In my case I took the opportunity to refresh my Tamil, conversing with him.

         After exchanging usual pleasantries, he slowly unravelled a mystery surrounding the temple.  When he was practising yoga in the open ground near the temple one night, he  felt a strange smell, followed by a tingling of anklets. There was a mummer as the slow breeze passed shaking the leaves of the Pala tree which stood majestically on the top of the nearby rock. As he turned round inquisitively a misty figure vanished with a deafening thunder and a red glow on to the top of the Pala tree leaving behind a fragrance for a while.

          In the past  I have heard about many such strange experiences, like odiyan, kappiri  etc. also stories of many weird forms from our night watchmen. Such items had never disturbed me. Even the one told by this Pujari boy, till the other day when I felt a similar feeling as I  happened to make a visit out of curiosity to the  top of the rock where the old Pala tree still adorns the surroundings. Rarely fictions are stranger than facts, I suppose……..dum dum dum pee pee pi.