Three "kathina vedi" go off exactly at 3 O'clock at the Thuravoor Mahadevar temple everyday morning. Grandma along with Mahadevan wakes up hearing this. A hectic day starts there. Thuravoor temple is located probably 5 kilometers crow's distance. The thunderous kathina vedi sound could easily travel up to grandma's ears in the small hours of the day. Kathina vedi is a special type of fire crackers extensively used in Kerala temples. On most of the special occasions, Kathina was the only fire cracker went off in our village temple. Even on the festival days, kathina found its prominent place always. No temple festival could be complete without elephants, police and kathina vedi.
Grandma believed that the sound of the fire crackers from the Mahadevar Temple ends the free for all of the ghosts, yakshis and umpteen other extra-natural evil entities that roams about in the night to suck blood of the people who were caught in the darkness. She strongly believed in Ghosts. There was always an iron sickle under her bed. She slept in an unassuming cot in the room adjacent to the kitchen. There was no electric fan in the room. Hand fan was the only way to give some relief from the hot nights of summer. There was another enemy to fight with. Mosquitoes. She used the term "chakka kothuku" for the giant sized mosquitoes with great exaggeration. All of us used hand fans to fight the heat and the nocturnal predators that sucked our blood. Thank god, had a yakshi or a ghosts sucked my blood, I would not have lived to tell this story!!
Everyone feared mosquitoes, because, Cherthala had the largest number of cases of elephantiasis. There were so many beleaguered men and women in Olavaipe with swelled legs. It was a pathetic scene to look at our boatman Thevi rowing the boat with both his legs affected by the obnoxious disease. There was a time people of Cherthala found it hard to get a spouse because no one wanted be a partner to a prospective patient or carry the burden of a horrible malady by himself/herself.
The first thing grandma does, erect
in the cot, was to call out her loyal assistant. "Edi Meenaskhi", Dee Meenakshee"...like a chant, this went on for a while. Meenaskiyamma who slept in the kitchen found it hard to wake up in the wee hours of the day. Grandma would never let her sleep more than that. Somehow, cursing all gods, Meenakshiyamma stands on her feet, roll the mat and dumps in grandma's room. Smoky stove lit up and the breakfast and lunch for her beloved grand children get ready there. Idly coconut chutney, puttu-channa masala, Dosa with chutney...so many mouth watering items took shape in the caring efforts of the duo.
Appam was made in a different way. Soaked rice along with small onions, green chilly and jeera were ground in the stone grinder and the paste is poured in a shallow steel plate. This then cooked in steam. Appam's combination was dry coconut chutney. It was so delicious. I do not remember to have eaten this appam after grandma left us. Making sambar was a big task as boiling toor dal consumed too much of wood and time. Even after boiling dal for several minutes, it still remained half boiled. But before cooking anything else, Meenakshiyamma made "kappippodi vellam", the traditional black coffee. It was a sour tasting coffee made using the coffee powder bought from the village's soul provision store. In the absence of multi branded coffee powders that flood the market now, there were not many things to choose from in those days. The coffee itself was called "vellam" that sounded the coffee like water. Tea was always called "theyila vellam". However, it kept their sleep at bay effectively
By the time we got ready for school,everything was ready. The cylindrical steel container was packed with rice and coconut chutney. Almost all children carried rice and chutney to school everyday. The brown coloured kerala rice, fondly called "kutthari" takes excruciatingly long time to cook. The low efficient stoves compounded the misery. I do not think the villagers of those days thought of any other rice to cook. That was a way of life. We had storage containers to keep rice that was harvested from our own paddy fields. The wooden storage container is still existing in our house. Perhaps, it houses only cockroaches now. So many times we boys were asked to enter this container to take out the grains. Inside the container, it was pitch darkness that greeted us. The only thing I did not like inside the container was the cockroaches that used to run on to my body often.
Grandma and her assistants including our neighbourhood aunt boiled the grains in big bronze vessels, dried under sun.Drying the boiled rice grains itself was a big task. The wet grains were dumped in a mat and spread evenly. One had to stand by all through the day to keep away the crows, pigeons and chickens from picking away the grains. Many times the position of the mat had to be shifted so that it comes under the direct sun light. Suddenly, there may appear dark clouds. Commosion follows to pick the grains and move to safe place. This process continues for at least three days. The grains were then taken to the village flour mill to remove the husk. I carried on my head the grains in bags to the mill many times although with much reluctance. I could not say no to grandma's repeated requests to do this.
There comes the bran as a byproduct of the process. Barn is brought back along with rice.The fine powdered barn is sifted and separated. It is very tasty to eat with sugar or jaggery. The water separated after boiling the rice too was considered healthy. Most of the time barn was used as fodder for the cow grandma maintained at home. Many times ladies removed husk of the unboiled grains manually using "ural" and "ulakka" The rice then soaked in water and then ground in the manual ginding stone along with other ingredients and then poured in plates and steam cooked. These rice appams were the food grandma offered us while we returned from school. We desrved the best in the evening because we braved the weather everyday as a routine. Severe monsoon rains, crossing fear instilling backwaters, walking a few kilometers in hot sun or heavy rains along the narrow bunds of paddy fields...the expeditions was never ending in the process of schooling.
Days were always hectic in grandma's life. She always kept her right hand Meenakshiyamma on her toes. After the morning chorus, it is preparation for the lunch,then the evening tea and then the dinner. In the middle, Meenakshiyamma rushes to the paddy fields to cut grass for the cow. Coconut husks were taken to the nearby water body to soak. These husks were soaked in water for several days and later they were pounded with wooden logs to make fibre. These fibres were then woven to coir. Dry coconut leaves were soaked in the water body for days and then woven to make plaited leaves. These leaves were in great demand for thatching houses and fencing. How fast meenaksiyamma's and aunt's hands moved while weaving the leaves. All these activities were reserved for the time slot after the "Sadhyadeepam" the holy lantern was lit and before grandpa walks in after his temple visit. The ladies dealt so many subjects as the work was in progress. Subjects obviously purely gossips about men and women around us. Discussions were often laced with jealousy and a little bit of derision.Probably, admiration was very hard to come out in the discussions. We children sat for homework with eyes glued to the book and ears to the discussions. Everything comes to an end when grandpa retuns from temple at around 9 in the night.
It is dinner time. Grandma deposits rice and other dishes in a plate and calls us out. "Take it to grandpa" she instructs. We were a little scared of him because he was always serious. We gently put the plate on the floor in the hall and then call him for the dinner "Muthacha, choru". He never came nearby the kitchen or the usual place all other dined because he did not like fish. No one stood nearby him when he took food as all were afraid of him. Grandma never served food to him as far as my memory goes. He finishes food quietly and sometimes not so quietly. At times he got angry and there ensued an interesting duel between the old couple.
That was the routine. She was an illiterate woman. She hardly knew about the world outside Olavaipe. Though we children could read Malayalam, we too like grandma never even touched the Malayalam daily we subscribed at home. When the Emergency was over and the horrific stories of police atrocities were occupying the newspaper pages, we along with grandma and Meenakshiyamma listened to the news read out by our mother's younger sister. She had a rhythm in reading. It reverberates still in my ears. The other source of information was the All India Radio controlled by the government. More than the content, the way the news was read out in the "akashavani" was very endearing. Though, grandma did not know the worldly things, she was very sure about her democratic right of casting vote in the elections. On every election day, she walked up to our LP school and marked her vote on the Cow and the Calf symbol.
I challenge the God, the all powerful Almighty. If He really wields the power his blind bhakthas bestowed on him, let Him bring back my sweet grandma. Give me back my sweet childhood. In retun, take away all that He claims to have given me all through my life...
in the cot, was to call out her loyal assistant. "Edi Meenaskhi", Dee Meenakshee"...like a chant, this went on for a while. Meenaskiyamma who slept in the kitchen found it hard to wake up in the wee hours of the day. Grandma would never let her sleep more than that. Somehow, cursing all gods, Meenakshiyamma stands on her feet, roll the mat and dumps in grandma's room. Smoky stove lit up and the breakfast and lunch for her beloved grand children get ready there. Idly coconut chutney, puttu-channa masala, Dosa with chutney...so many mouth watering items took shape in the caring efforts of the duo. Appam was made in a different way. Soaked rice along with small onions, green chilly and jeera were ground in the stone grinder and the paste is poured in a shallow steel plate. This then cooked in steam. Appam's combination was dry coconut chutney. It was so delicious. I do not remember to have eaten this appam after grandma left us. Making sambar was a big task as boiling toor dal consumed too much of wood and time. Even after boiling dal for several minutes, it still remained half boiled. But before cooking anything else, Meenakshiyamma made "kappippodi vellam", the traditional black coffee. It was a sour tasting coffee made using the coffee powder bought from the village's soul provision store. In the absence of multi branded coffee powders that flood the market
now, there were not many things to choose from in those days. The coffee itself was called "vellam" that sounded the coffee like water. Tea was always called "theyila vellam". However, it kept their sleep at bay effectivelyBy the time we got ready for school,everything was ready. The cylindrical steel container was packed with rice and coconut chutney. Almost all children carried rice and chutney to school everyday. The brown coloured kerala rice, fondly called "kutthari" takes excruciatingly long time to cook. The low efficient stoves compounded the misery. I do not think the villagers of those days thought of any other rice to cook. That was a way of life. We had storage containers to keep rice that was harvested from our own paddy fields. The wooden storage container is still existing in our house. Perhaps, it houses only cockroaches now. So many times we boys were asked to enter this container to take out the grains. Inside the container, it was pitch darkness that greeted us. The only thing I did not like inside the container was the cockroaches that used to run on to my body often.
Grandma and her assistants including our neighbourhood aunt boiled the grains in big bronze vessels, dried under sun.Drying the boiled rice grains itself was a big task. The wet grains were dumped in a mat and spread evenly. One had to stand by all through the day to keep away the crows, pigeons and chickens from picking away the grains. Many times the position of the mat had to be shifted so that it comes under the direct sun light. Suddenly, there may appear dark clouds. Commosion follows to pick the grains and move to safe place. This process continues for at least three days. The grains were then taken to the village flour mill to remove the husk. I carried on my head the grains in bags to the mill many times although with much reluctance. I could not say no to grandma's repeated requests to do this.
There comes the bran as a byproduct of the process. Barn is brought back along with rice.The fine powdered barn is sifted and separated. It is very tasty to eat with sugar or jaggery. The water separated after boiling the rice too was considered healthy. Most of the time barn was used as fodder for the cow grandma maintained at home. Many times ladies removed husk of the unboiled grains manually using "ural" and "ulakka" The rice then soaked in water and then ground in the manual ginding stone along with other ingredients and then poured in plates and steam cooked. These rice appams were the food grandma offered us while we returned from school. We desrved the best in the evening because we braved the weather everyday as a routine. Severe monsoon rains, crossing fear instilling backwaters, walking a few kilometers in hot sun or heavy rains along the narrow bunds of paddy fields...the expeditions was never ending in the process of schooling.
Days were always hectic in grandma's life. She always kept her right hand Meenakshiyamma on her toes. After the morning chorus, it is preparation for the lunch,then the evening tea and then the dinner. In the middle, Meenakshiyamma rushes to the paddy fields to cut grass for the cow. Coconut husks were taken to the nearby water body to soak. These husks were soaked in water for several days and later they were pounded with wooden logs to make fibre. These fibres were then woven to coir. Dry coconut leaves were soaked in the water body for days and then woven to make plaited leaves. These leaves were in great demand for thatching houses and fencing. How fast meenaksiyamma's and aunt's hands moved while weaving the leaves. All these activities were reserved for the time slot after the "Sadhyadeepam" the holy lantern was lit and before grandpa walks in after his temple visit. The ladies dealt so many subjects as the work was in progress. Subjects obviously purely gossips about men and women around us. Discussions were often laced with jealousy and a little bit of derision.Probably, admiration was very hard to come out in the discussions. We children sat for homework with eyes glued to the book and ears to the discussions. Everything comes to an end when grandpa retuns from temple at around 9 in the night.
It is dinner time. Grandma deposits rice and other dishes in a plate and calls us out. "Take it to grandpa" she instructs. We were a little scared of him because he was always serious. We gently put the plate on the floor in the hall and then call him for the dinner "Muthacha, choru". He never came nearby the kitchen or the usual place all other dined because he did not like fish. No one stood nearby him when he took food as all were afraid of him. Grandma never served food to him as far as my memory goes. He finishes food quietly and sometimes not so quietly. At times he got angry and there ensued an interesting duel between the old couple.
That was the routine. She was an illiterate woman. She hardly knew about the world outside Olavaipe. Though we children could read Malayalam, we too like grandma never even touched the Malayalam daily we subscribed at home. When the Emergency was over and the horrific stories of police atrocities were occupying the newspaper pages, we along with grandma and Meenakshiyamma listened to the news read out by our mother's younger sister. She had a rhythm in reading. It reverberates still in my ears. The other source of information was the All India Radio controlled by the government. More than the content, the way the news was read out in the "akashavani" was very endearing. Though, grandma did not know the worldly things, she was very sure about her democratic right of casting vote in the elections. On every election day, she walked up to our LP school and marked her vote on the Cow and the Calf symbol.
I challenge the God, the all powerful Almighty. If He really wields the power his blind bhakthas bestowed on him, let Him bring back my sweet grandma. Give me back my sweet childhood. In retun, take away all that He claims to have given me all through my life...
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