TRIBUTES 2

Parukutty Elayamma had always been a part of the kitchen;Like the large granite pot containing salt crystals sitting on an extra hearth used only when there was a feast in the house...Like the glass less wick lamp which sat on a iron plate mounted on a wooden stand called Madampi, and kept lighted from evening till the kitchen was closed....Like the small and large China pots black due to their use over the years...Like the big brass pot that contained a red decoction of various herbs called Chukkuvellam used to quench the thirst of the family members...Like the numerous pots and urns and small wooden planks meant for sitting and kept leaning against the wall when not in use...

Though the kitchen always had a dark gloomy atmosphere, thanks to the use of hearths in which wood were burnt for cooking, Parukutty Elayamma possessed a fair complexion that was a rarity, not only in the family but in the community as well. She entered the kitchen well before sunrise and remained there till it closed well after sunset. The kada kada sound of the smooth river stone placed inside the wooden pulley as she lifted water from the well was the alarm for neighbors to wake up.The only time before noon,perhaps, she came out of the kitchen was for collecting the Jack tree leaves .She then folded these leaves in to an improvisedspoon for the family, laborers and servants to drink porridge which was on the menu at nine in the morning.

In the afternoon she would get some time for chatting with some of the common neighboring lady visitors to the house.It may be someone seeking pickles like Uppumanga or Mulagumanga from Grandmother as somebody was ill at their house. Or it may be the wife of the Barber who made calls to the house on every Monday and Friday, early morning. He shaved the male members of the house sitting in the varanda of the Kulappura. But when his wife arrived, the ladies of the house mysteriously disappeared in to the darkness of the insides of the Kulappura. Her reports on various personalities and happenings of the village came out of the rooms,some times in hushed tone denoting the confidential nature of the information.Children who sneaked around despite the prohibitory orders, listening to these reports like a radio commentary wondered what is going on inside.

Or the visitors may be coming to look for fallen Areca nuts or for plucking some betel leaves from Ponnambalan's betel garden: Like Angadi Kali who was slightly out of mind and always whispered something to herself while searching for Areca nut. Her daughter also was out of mind and wept all the time talking about her son, Chami. He was working in some Government Office in Karnataka .She came to the house whenever she got a letter from her son which was to be read out by mother.The letter always contained matter about his inability to come to the village due to "some examinations". All the ladies, ignorant of Government departmental tests, wondered what these never ending "examinations" were.However the desolate mother listened to the contents of the letter with weeping eyes as always.

As dusk fell, as all family members moved to the first floor for sleeping,as Ponnambalan embarked on his nocturnal journey through the farm with his long woodden pole and a lighted lantern and as Narayanan started reciting Kathakali songs aloud, often taking steps of a character in the folk art, it will be the turn of another desolate mother to weep thinking about her daughter and their plight....

Today a letter had come from Kalluvazhi,a remote village where her daughter is married away, which mother had read out. Parukuttyy Elayamma's daughter had given birth to another girl baby,her fifth, and this had pushed everybody into sorrow.

"Ini niruthan parayeen, anchayille penkuttikal..." Mother was telling Parukutty Ilayamma to advise her daughter for adopting family planning measures as she now has five daughters. The burden of marrying off five daughters obviously weighed in her advice.

Outside the narrow and high netted window of her bedroom, night became dense among the aged mango trees.Beyond the huge mango trees in pitch darkness sat Nagathan, the serpent God.Once in a year Krishnan Embrandiri came and performed the pooja for Nagathan and Dharma Daivam, the family God represented by a self erupted mud idol housed in a small temple.Wild creepers hung from the huge trees intertwining like mating snakes. Parukutty Elayamma looked out of the window unable to sleep as fire flies made the futile attempt of lighting up the jungle. In the solitude of her sleepless nights she thought of her life journey....

Her husband had expired soon after the birth of her daughter. How did he die? I have never heard any account of his death from the house discussions. Even otherwise it is not relevant. What is relevant is life after death. Of course not of the person who died but of the survivors. After the death of her husband, Parukutty came back to live with her brothers, carrying all her belongings in a Pettakam (Wooden Box), which was given to her as marriage gift as per the custom.When her daughter attained age, she was married off to the brother in law of one of her brothers.

After wards when her brother decided to move to his wife's place, Parukutty came to live with her elder sister, my Grand mother whom she called Ammu Eduthi and we called Achamma. She carried her Pettakam of belongings to our house and it found it's new resting place in her solitary bed room; and Parukutty identified herself with the numerable items of the kitchen. There she resigned to her solitude accepting her destiny.

Whenever father, who was a school teacher, got some extra income by way of official duties, he will add a line to the Gold Muthumala of Grand mother. Like other ladies of the house Parukutty Elayamma would examine the ornament when it was brought to house, holding it close to her eyes whose sight had started failing.Delightfully.Without jealousy...lust... or any complaint to the Almighty regarding the disparity, though the owner of the jewels and herself were the products of the same womb.Her daughter and children visited the house whenever there was a special occasion. They spent most of the time in the solitary bed room talking to her but were unable to mingle with the children of the house; some thing, economical or social or something I am unable to explain, separated them. So near a relation, yet so far.....!

Years passed on in the form of sun and rain out side the kitchen window during the day; In the form of rain, darkness and moon light out side the narrow netted bedroom window during the night.Vishu and Onam came one after the other. For Karkkidaka Samkranti Parukutty Elayamma welcomed the Goddess of prosperity, Sreebhagavathy. Sreebhagavathy and Chetta Bhagavathy are believed to be sisters. Sreebhagavathy will come only if Chetta Bhagavathy is routed out of the house. Ammukutty, the outside servant played the role of Chetta Bhagavathy carrying broom and other wastes in a mud pot. Paruktty Elayamma chased her out of the house calling out "Chette..Phoo, Chette ..Phoo... Chetta Purathu, Sree Bhagavathy akathu..". (Chetta out;Sree Bhagavathi in..). Next day onwards Grand mother made Shivothi for thirty days - on a wooden plank water in two Kindis were kept, mirror, flowers, sandal wood piece etc were arranged. Representing Sree Bhagavathy.

And one day grand mother, fell down due to cerebral thrombosis. She could not get up there after despite treatment of all sorts,systems. From her state of delirium she called out Parukutty and Ponnambalan day in and day out. Parukutty elayamma, herself aged and requiring assistance, nursed her sister along with Ponnambalan. So devotedly that when after three years Grand mother passed away, it was felt that Parukutty Elayamma has accomplished the purpose of her very existence on earth.Now she too was developing physical ailments and the question of who will nurse her if she is bed ridden disturbed the family atmosphere.It was time for her Pettakam to find a new resting place in their journey.......

Parukuty Elayamma's daughter's house turned out to be smaller than what I had imagined.It was a common Kerala style construction with tiled roof. Every corner of the house was so full that I doubted whether there was any room left for Parukuty Elayamma's pettakam. We carried it from the Jeep and kept it in a corner of the inside room which ,perhaps, was it's last resting place. In the front open hall itself her son in law, who was now unable to walk due to rheumatics, laid on a wooden cot. Her daughter also was visibly weak, physically.All their five daughters had been married away,fortunately, to good families. Most healthy among all the inmates seemed to be the octogenarian mother in law of her daughter. All of them received us heartily to my surprise.It seemed, just as Parukutty elayamma, all of them had accepted their fate without murmur and was ready for anything life had in store for them.......good,bad or worse.When we started off our return,Parukuty elayamma said to me "Come to see me once in a while....I just want to see you all......". Her voice strained of sorrow and I noticed her eyes were full of tears.......

After that even though we visited her every now and then and sent her small sums for her maintenance, Parukutty elayamma was brought to House only once;during the marriage of sister.She was brought one week in advance and seemed to be very happy to come home.....The home where she had spent more than thirty years; and loved whose inmates more than her own daughter and grand children.....Even though she had difficulty in walking, she went around the house and examined everything.

"Karoppila maram valuthayalo......"(The curry leaves plant has grown big). She said delightfully looking at the Curry leaves tree now full of dark green leaves.Some times getting curry leaves which was indispensable for any Kerala dish was difficult. Being the kitchen- in- charge, she had therefore planted a sapling near the kitchen so that there is easy access to curry leaves whenever needed. Some how my mind tried to equate her own life with that of curry leaves...Indispensable for every dish yet discarded by every one......

After the marriage when she got in the Jeep for her return journey, I noticed the tears in her eyes. Even though the family members were present to see her off, every body spared the etiquette of asking when she will come back next. Still she said as a soliloquy:

" Eni eppo varan ivade arudeem kalyanom illalo..." (Now there is no marriage here for me to come ...)

" There is no need of any such occasion.....I shall come with a Jeep and bring you here whenever you feel like coming here......" I wanted to say that.But before the words came out the jeep had moved........

Years later when the inevitable end came to her after getting bed ridden for some months, we were in a far away town for a major surgery for father. May be that was yet another irony scripted by destiny that we should not take part in the last rites of a person who had been so affectionate to us........

Only the persons who looked after her in her last days had the right for that........!

TRIBUTES

Night started to pull it's dark blanket over the Kulam (pond) and the surroundings as I sat on the last step of a flight of granite steps leading to the dark, cold waters, dipping my feet in to it. From a distance I could hear the low sound of the TV sops and the voices of children and relatives watching TV at home. How long I had been sitting here? I do not know. I have been completely engulfed by the solitude surrounding this Kulam. Now as darkness falls it takes a still different shape of mystery and unearthliness.

Huge and old Areca and coconut trees surrounding the Kulam gave a Jurassic atmosphere as darkness descended over them. In the day light their inverted shadows used to sway like huge anacondas as wind created little ripples in the Kulam. Little fishes tingling my feet reminded me of the Piranhas in Phantom comics which I used to read with passion in my childhood. A water snake came swaying towards my feet and suddenly turned away, perhaps sensing a human.

Lights and the sound of the TV coming from the House suddenly vanished. Power cuts are frequent in the village. Thick darkness engulfed the universe. Through the gap over the Kulam I could see the haze of the clouded, starless sky. Only fire files with their little lights moved smoothly through the air.

Now from the far end of the farm bamboo fence, I could see a light slowly walking towards me. Beyond the farm fence was a large expanse of paddy fields called Ariyanippadam. In the middle ofAriyanippadam there is a marshy patch which will not be dry even in the most grueling summers. From the childhood stories that Kunhukuttan Ammavan told, a demon called Potti Pishachu travels in the area during solitary hours of the night. Fire balls will come out as it opens it's mouth. Several people had seen it. Now the light moving towards me .....is it Potti Pishachu?

As the light drew nearer I could see it was a person holding a lantern. He held a long stick too in hand. He was wearing only a Thorthumundu (Towel). I sat stunned unable to move or raise my voice. It was Ponnambala Tharakan! But...but..Ponnambalan had died at least twenty years ago..! Now in this night..how..

Suddenly the window of the house facing the Kulam opened with a noise.
"Ponnambala....are you there? Have you not finished your bath yet? We people have to go to bed after giving you food.We have to get up early in the morning...come soon..."

It was the voice of Parukutti Elayamma.I could recognize her voice even now ....fifteen years after her death! Now what is happening? My logic was un able to comprehend. Or have I been taken back to twenty or twenty five years back through a time machine?

2
Grand Father sat on the steps in front of the house listening to the Ramayana recital of Grand mother in the after noon. Summer heat was simmering outside. Tile roofing and wooden ceiling work of the old house insulated the interiors from the scorching heat to a large extent. Near to Grand Father, Kunhukuttan Ammavan, Senior Karyastan (Supervisor of farm, house etc) also stood looking at the workers making hay heap. First crop had just been taken and the entire courtyard around the house was spread with hay for drying and keeping in heaps.

"Rain clouds are gathering from the East. Quickly make the hay stack..". Kunhukuttan Ammaman called out to the workers.

Ponnambalan came from the side of the house with a cow and calf. He was wearing his eternal dress of thorthu. His loin cloth was visible through it as always. He carried a stack of fodder on his shoulders.
"See the time this fellow is bringing the cow! Now after his lunch when is he going to give it food and when is he going to milk it?" Kumhukuttan said prompting Grand Father to scold him. There were three Karyastans in the house. Kunjukuttan Ammaman, Narayanan Ammaman and Ponnambala Tharakan. All were chronic batchlers. While we children were taught to call the first two Ammaman (Uncle), Ponnambalan was taught to be called by his caste name, tharakan. Why? This had puzzled me in later life and I had a little bit of regret too about it. Ponnambalan being the Junior of the three Karyastans and in charge of cattle and internal matters was looked upon with a down cast air by the other two Karyastans who were in charge of paddy cultivation.

" Ponnambala...." Grand Father almost shouted, "why are you so late?”. Grand Father was respected and to some extent feared by all in the house. But Ponnambalan ignored the question and continued to guide the cow to it's shed.

"All so long you had been eating...are you not satisfied yet?" He shouted at the cow which made an attempt to pull hay from the stack that the workers were making.

"Dhikkari..!" Remarked Kunhukuttan.

That was the man - Ponnambalan. Never caring for anybody; even if it is his employer. His day always started early. When we children wake up in the morming, Ponnambalan will be milking the cows in the shed. The sound of milk spikes hitting the bell metal pot will add to the symphony by chirping birds in the morning. Most of his free time was spent in a small betel vine garden. Though Grand Father and Kunhukuttan ammaman required betel leaves it was often purchased from Ramaru Chettiar's shop in Madanassery Angady. Still Ponnambalan toiled with spade in the garden sometimes morning to night as if God has destined this as his life mission. Often food was forgotten in the process resulting in angry calls from Grand Mother and parukutty Elayamma.

Twice in a day Ponnambalan was to have a show of strength with a giant Grinding stone - immediately after lunch for grinding the cotton seeds for cattle and in the night for preparing batter for idly which was the permanent breakfast item in the menu of the house. These were the two jobs he did as a transcendental meditation loudly reciting some bhajans. At the end of the first shift he will carry the food and water to the shed and feed each cattle talking to them sitting in the manger. While one cow drank from the pot, the next animal will lick his hairy back with their scrubber like tongue.
"Ente muduku polinhoolo...!" (My back is broken..!).He will complain to the licking animal while caressing its face and removing ticks.

Visit to Mother's house was an occasion we earnestly looked to during the summer vacation. Ponnambalan had a crucial role to play in this annual ritual. Mother's house was in a very remote place and one had to walk about four kilometers through labyrinthine lanes after getting down from the bus, which itself was rare. And to catch the bus one had to walk another four kilometers. Ponnambalan and another young neighbor Ramakrishnan's role was to carry the two children when they were tired of walking. And both the children wanted to overtake the other by his carrier. While Ramakrishnan always kept his lead thanks to his young age, Ponnambalan came in for brutal attacks from the little rider for trailing behind. With tears in my eyes let me thank you ,Ponnambala Ammama, for not throwing the little devil down the labyrinth and walking back.

One day as I sat on the Kulakkadavu, Ponnambalan took a dip in the tank and started drying his body. I could see that age had started showing it's tiredness on his body.

"My ship is broken...Kuttee " he said." I am getting old and I looked forward to Chamy and wife to look after me...But now..." He left unfinished. Chamy, his brother had come in the morning. He had brought the sad news of the mental illness of his wife. I remembered Achamma, Parukutty Elayamma and all listening to the news with their index fingers placed on their nose.

"Don't worry...we are there for you..." Did I say that? No..I don't think. All along my life story had been not saying the right thing at the right time....Not repaying love and affection with love and affection.

Years later Grand mother, Achamma was laid immobile due to paralysis. In her delirium state she called out Ponnambalan and her sister Parukutty Elayamma through out day and night. As her children and grand children tried to sleep with a prick of conscience else where in the house, Ponnambalan and Parukutty Elayamma nursed her round the clock.

Ponnambalan was not well when I was leaving for a leisure trip to Pondicherry where I had some friends. He had consulted our village Doctor and was taking his medicines. I went in to his room and said good bye. "Take care of yourself". He told me.

After one week I came home after my tour. I sensed some oddity the moment I entered the gate. Our neighbor lady was coming from the cow shed after feeding the cows...Betel vine garden wore a gloomy look...Where is Ponnambalan? My mind suspected the worst.

"He developed chest pain and was taken to a hospital in town.....But could not save him.." I sat still unable to comprehend the reality. I thought about the the fears of old age that Ponnambalan carried in his mind even as he toiled for our family. Now he has left without waiting for the care of his brother or any body for that matter...

Years later I sat with my parents on the banks of Ganges in Varanasi. They were performing the rituals for the salvation of bygone ancestors. At one stage the Panditji guiding them announced,” Now you can bring to mind memories of any of the relatives or friends who have passed away and perform the rituals for their salvation...".

"Ponnambala Tharakan,Narayanammaman,Kunhukuttammaman..." I murmured to my father who nodded confirming that he has already remembered them.

Ganges flowed quietly, it's blue waters dissolving in the distant fog. The transcendental sound of conch raised from the Kedarnath temple behind us followed by ringing of bells. My mind became serene with the feeling of Ponnambalan and others achieving salvation.....