Visakhapatnam -2 : Some feeble memories

Dondakayalu, bendakayalu, kakarikayaluuu...this was a very familiar sound every day in the morning times. The petty vendors mainly women, carrying basketful of vegetables on their heads roam about from street to street to sell their products. That is the rhythm of our Indian streets. How many city and town streets do not wake up to the calls of the vegetable vendors? It is part and parcel of our day to day life, even in the modern days of big and giant retail outlets. FDI or no FDI, an average Indian home will wait for the vegetable vendor to turn up every morning. May those calls mixed with chirping of all kinds of birds bring about the mornings in our country like ever before

We lived in a thatched house adjacent to the restaurant. The walls of the house were made of mud. The restaurant had been doing well that time. My father, who reached Visakhapatnam for a job in a restaurant, could manage to start his own set up mainly because of hard work and of course with help from his well wishers. As the business started fledging, he brought many people from our village to Visakhapatnam. For several years, our connection with this port city continued. We were right at the heart of the city, just a stone's throw from the city's landmark Jagadamba Theatre. A disc holding muscleman about to throw it welcomes people to the theatre. Visitors to Visakhapatnam can hardly miss this eye catcher. It need not be the Eiffel tower of Paris or Great wall of China, but for those who know Vizag, Jagadamba centre is a place of great attraction

Idly, dosa, vada and tea were selling like hot potatoes in our restaurant. Our world was always revolving round this restaurant and the adjacent home. Not only parents but there were a host of elders from my village to take care of us. We did go around. The most subtle memory was about our frequent visits to a temple at Anakapalli, a nearby town of Visakhapatnam. The fiery eyed Goddess Nookalamma's images gave a frightening look in our tender minds always 

Nookalamma



Arukku Valley

Borra Caves



The beach- a view from Rishikonda

Visakhapatnam has many other attractions too. The enchanting Rishikonda gives a marvelous look of the Bay of Bengal from atop a scenic hill. A little far away, the Arukku Hills is one of the beautiful places to visit on a low budget trip. If anyone has a plan to make a budget holiday trip, make it to Visakhapatnam, it will not be a disappointing one. But it is always advisable to visit Vizag in winter.

 There were a number of our villagers working in the restaurant that time. It was pleasant playing around with the elders in the big extended family in a mini Olavaipe. Pankan chettan was the one whom I remember the most among them. He is the elder son Meenakshiyamma, the effervescent octogenarian who still visits our home at least once a day. He was the cook in our restaurant. Of late, he started a pan shop in a small portion annexed to the restaurant. The Gold Spots we drunk from that shop were the craziest thing we did have in Visakhapatnam once upon a time. Pankan chettan, at present is earning a living with the lotteries he sells in the streets of Kochi. A totally worn out person, he struggles to walk but the call of duty pulls him along. This man is also, unfortunately, bracketed  in a class called "upper caste fascists" in Keralam!!

 

The pan shop was just adjacent to the cash counter of the restaurant. So, it was very easy for us to reach out to the pan shop and pick those chilled heart stoppers.  O Goldspot, where have you disappeared? The cash counter was mainly manned by my father but there were many others too who sat at the counter when he took a recess. They were  all our own people. The cash box had full of coins of 1 and 2 paisa, beside many other higher denominations. Those smaller coins were separately kept in the drawer for a purpose. Every day, so many poor people visited our shop. Majority of them came with disfigured hands and legs. They looked so pathetic. They carried the curse of the killer disease  Leprosy. These little coins were dropped in the bowl carried by the unfortunate human beings. Felt always sad at the sight of such miserable lives. There was another marginalised group, whose main source of income was also begging. Hijaras came in groups. Danced in front of the shop, to the tune of some music played by instruments they brought. They too got a coin or two.

GoldSpot was the tastiest drink. But, "thatti munjalu" - the Palmyra fruits and "mamidi tandra" - the mango cake were equally tasty. Vendors used to carry thatti munjalu in baskets on their heads and came to every house. Our elders bargained so hard with the vendors to get them at the cheapest rate. In the scorching sun these fruits brought good relief. Mamidi tandra is a cake like jelly made of ripe mango pulp. I still love its taste. My taste buds were so extravagantly feasted with the mouth watering mango jelly always. 

Small people,smaller incidents. That was all about our life in Vizag as little kids. Even after several years, the little world around a thatched mud walled house annexed to a modest business unit instills a kind of positive energy. This is good enough to give out a pleasant smile at least once in a day.  So many faces are flashing through my mind, those simple men who brightened our little hearts long time back. A few of them have departed this world. Perhaps they had joined my beloved papa in the magnificent restaurant he would have opened in the Heaven....