Kochuvelu, the climber

There is a place called Salalah in Oman. I heard of this place but have never visited there. People holding UAE visa can visit Oman without visa. So, many people from UAE visit Oman whenever there are long vacations. The countries included in the Gulf Cooperation Council can travel anywhere with their passports.



Salalh

Tonight, as I have been surfing through the television channels, I saw a man climbing a coconut tree. The entire area around him was green. So many high rise coconut tress. I thought it was a documentary about Keralam. That is natural. Whenever a malayalee sees coconut trees, he/she thinks that it is in Keralam, though there are so many places in Tamizhnadu and Andhra Pradesh that has much healthier coconut trees than Keralam.  Coconut chutney, coconut oil, avail...these are Malayalees' own pride. The documentary on television was on one such coconut farm in Salalah. So many tall coconut trees and they are all bearing full of nuts. It was an amazing scene.

My village like any other villages in Keralam was also like Salala. "Was"  is apt, for, things on ground has changed a lot now. Most of the families in the villages depended on coconuts as a source of income once upon a time. Every piece of land had so many coconut trees. People cared them. Gave them right mixture of manures and watered them well in the summer seasons. A boat journey along the backwaters could spot a number of people engaged in mining the fertile silt from the bottom of the water. People dive and come up with blocks of black colured sediment and dumping into the wooden boats tied near them. These blocks were sold to people who owned coconut trees. Now, it is hard to see people doing this business. Customers prefer easier and more effective fertilisers now. I do not remember when we last supplied some fertilisers to our coconut trees When there were some insects attacked the trees, prompt action was taken. The trees were happy and the people were happier. When people were in urgent need of money, they sold a tree or two. It temporarily solved their immediate cash crunch, but it was so saddening to see the axe falling so hard on the "Kalpa Vrikhsam"

The Land of Kera, that is Karalam, is still not devoid of coconut trees. There are still a good number of the trees surviving, holding their majestic head above all other trees. A boat journey through the back waters of Keralam leaves a breathtaking feeling even now. It soothes our feelings about large scale deforestation to a little extent. The Kalpavriksham with all its seducing beauty is still entertaining the eyes that behold them.

Houses were located right in the middle of thick vegetation. Besides coconut trees, there were mango trees, cashewnut trees, jack fruit trees, to name a few. Around my house, there were at least 3 huge mango trees. They bore sweet mangoes every year. The tree that stood right on the north side gave very tasty mangoes. We called them country mangoes. It tasted very sour when raw but turned so sweet laced with a peasant sourness as it riped. That taste can never vanish from the tongue. One day, as the head of the family found empty exchequer, he sold the tree off. There fell a friend. Imagine about biting a raw mango along with crystals of salt. That taste can just beat the taste of an ice cream or a milkshake-hands down.

Coconut trees from the sapling stage to the tall ones dot the entire landscape. There is a common belief that the tree never lets us down. In my memory, there was not even a single incident where a coconut fell on anyone. It is like that, the Kalpavriksham never harms.

In every two months' interval, the festival revisits. Thengukayattam, to harvest the Kalpavriksham. It was a process of climbing the coconut trees to extract the ripe nuts, the dried parts and the leaves. Every part of the tree was useful. What to say, even the ones that fell down before growing up to become a coconut were used by the children to play with. The coconut climbing was a family occupation. In fact it was the job of a caste. Kochuvelu was the one who headed the team of climbers in my village. He was a black complexioned stout, shirtless man. His team of three or four men of various ages were all from his own family. The team did not consist of his younger brother Kochootty or Kochukutty. Sadly, he was out of his mental balance. He roamed around in the village till he died. Though he was not harmful, we children while walking to school dreaded a lot. Spotting him on the way always made the heart skip a beat. He was a living example of how a man with mental illness was treated by the society once upon a time. Probably, things have not changed much even in Century-21

The team went up and down several times. The climbing device was a simple ring made of rope. A few meters, they climb using a ladder and then use the ring around their ankles to reach the top. It was really frightening to watch Kochuvelu climbing the trees that are as tall as 30 meters. He reminded of the Spiderman. We knew little about the superhuman character those days, otherwise we would have called him Spiderman.  Tall trees swing in the wind like pendulum in the wind.. During the monsoon seasons, the trees become slippery. Unfazed by all adversities, he accomplishes the task. A sharp edged chopper was hung on the shoulder as the climber makes his way up. No special clamp or a hanger is used for this but it is the skill of the climber that keeps the chopper in its place

They start climbing from one direction and cover the entire compound in a pattern. As they approach the north part of the house, where the Kitchen is located, grandma stood by. There ensues a funny tussle. Grandma picks a few coconuts and dumps them into the kitchen. Grandpa,the manager of the entire event, dislikes this act the most. He shouts, frets and fumes, but unable to do anything more than that! For the reasons best known to them, both were at loggerheads since we started remembering things. Most of the fights were on silly things. We enjoyed their quarrel a lot. Grandpa was a serious man while grandma was a simple rustic down to earth woman.



Crying for a fresh lease of life- Anyone cares?

Within a few hours, a heap of coconuts was formed on the forecourt. Kochuvelu and team separates the coconut from the bunch. The counting starts. Their wage was also coconuts. With the chopper, Kochuvelu lifts the nuts, open a small part of the husk and ties together all that he got. These coconuts were hung on the ladder and the team walks away.

After a day's hard work, Kochuvelu heads to the toddy shop, . A drunk man walking back home with unsteady steps uttering something always was a regular scene in our village. It was not like this in any village. down the line, people lost interest in coconut trees. No ones cared for a good friend. The money flew from outside the state ensured everything was available in the shops. Coconut trees, one after the other fell to various maladies. The tribe of Kochuvelu gradually started dwindling. There were more luring jobs that fetch more money and social status. The forsaken friend braved all weathers and all kinds of attacks by predators. Many fell already and the surviving ones find it very hard to stay alive. Hope the land of kera will again breathe  a new life into the Kalpaviksham in the near future