BONDS WITH KODUNGALLORE

 Having spent all my childhood and most part of teenage / adult life in Bombay, one generally is not expected to have very close bonding or understanding of one’s native place. In my case, Kerala and more specifically, the historic coastal town of Kodungallore, in Trichur district.  On the banks of river Periyar, this town, off the Malabar coast, was also an ancient port. Legend has it that this is where the Apostle St Thomas first landed in 100 CE, in India, and then went onwards to Goa to spread Christianity.

As per Muslims, the oldest Mosque (still seen) was built here around 600 CE with direct connections to Mecca! The town was, at various times, in the hands of Portuguese and the Dutch and later, off course, part of British colonial India, and the port handled extensive trade with the Mediterranean nations and the Roman empires, in addition to Indian west coast.
Currently, in my era, it is the famous Kodungallore Bhagavati (Mahakali or Durga)  temple that the town is famous for. Also, for the Temple’s Bharani festival.

Now, as was the tradition with most Malayali and Tamil families who lived in Bombay, there is this annual or bi annual visit to the native place or rather to grandparents’ home. This was an event one waited and longed for. The long train ride of almost three days, in the sixties or early seventies, was filled with fun, reading, eating and alighting at stations. The sounds and smells of the railways and its stations and the constant sound of vendors are all   etched in memory. By the  time we reached, we looked likes miners form a coal mine, as those days the engines used coal as fuel.
My mom, sister and me would have done this about 3 to 4 times during school days. And those visits established strong bonds with relatives including cousins’ brothers and sisters and Kodungallore. My mom had 10 siblings, so a total of 11 of them. Grandmother was the head and lived alone but with a housemaid,  in the Tharavad house  in  Kodungallore. Being part of a matriarchal society, we had closer affinity to moms’ parents, cousins, and relatives than that of dads. My father’s home town was also the same and paternal grandmother and a sister lived in their tharavad house. Inside this compound of land and house was also was a Shiva temple.
Hanse we were vegetarians and part of my first name comes from the deity there.
During these visits some of some of my aunts and uncles with their families would also join at grandma’s house. Hanse there would be at least about 3 to 4 other cousins to play with.

The days spent there was filled with joy. Lots to eat, though simple food, lots of places to play. Lots of trees of coconut, mangoes, jackfruit, cashew, custard apple, Guava, papaya, and off course banana along with some veggies, curry leaves, beetle leaves etc. On several days it rained cats and dogs which kept us indoors but the charm of the rain, the poodles, the green rich vegetation compensated.

We had the swings tied to the tree branches, the climbing of the trees, the plucking of mangoes, various improvised outdoor games that kept us busy. Cricket too was played. A coconut tree part that is  at the top with the leaves and fruit, often dries and falls. This had a curvature both laterally and across but was manageable to be converted in to a bat with handle. A rubber ball was managed and sticks served as stumps. Its was mostly underhand bowing. It was fun. Indoors games like cards, carrom and ludo kept us kids occupied during rains or late evenings.

Occasional loss of power or very low voltage in the late evenings, particularly during rains, added to awesome experience

We all slept on the beds laid out on the floor in the vast central living room. Occasionally we were allowed to sleep in one of the bed rooms. Early morning rituals included using a stick with paste or charcoal powder to clean the teeth which is done at the rear courtyard. Tongue cleaned using the coconut leaf rib.  All bio friendly. The challenge was management of nature’s call. Number one was manageable, behind tress anywhere but number two was an ask! The toilet was located several meters away, in one of the corners of the land. No piped water so you carry a lota. Urgency meant that the lots is absent and the you run after finishing all the way to the well or pond. Imagine doing this at night with no light nearby!! I recall the numerous ghosts and demons who chased me there on my return! Maybe it made me get rid of the fear of darkness.

 There was a bath room next to a well from which water had to be drawn. Another option was to go the pond at one end, swim and have a dip in it along with water splashing et all.  Normally with an adult or two being present. This ritual was repeated in the evening before 6 pm. After the evening bath we all will assemble in the prayer area(with photos of gods and goddesses and a large brass lamp). Granny will light the lamp and we all would recite prayers.

Often, we would visit the centre of the town, a 15-minute walk from the Tharavad house. This is where the temple is also located. The temple complex called Kavu has the main structure   of traditional Kerala temple architecture, build mainly of wood tiled roof and stone floor, is at the centre of a vast expense of sandy land and scattered with banyan trees. A beautiful place to pray and relax. Inside the temple and near the goodness its serene and awesome. One does feel closer to god. I have often gone there over the years and loved every visit. One of the offerings the devotees make, apart from the several pujas, is the Vedi vazyvadu, which is a bomb / explosion, mostly sound, and controlled within a small cast iron cylinder, filled with needed chemicals, and set off by the guy who mans it. He sets off as many vedis as you have offered. The bang could be heard regularly near the temple. For kids that was a curious and exciting event. Then for us kids the high point was the prasadam, a mixture of puffed rice, coconut shavings, jaggery, edible flower petals and slices of banana all served on a small banana leaf after puja. Occasionally, one of the uncles or aunts would take us kids to the shops adjoining the temple.

Memories of some people also comes to mind. The peanut wala for one, who used to come in the evening and if one of the uncle or aunts or granny was a little indulgent, we would get a cone of the peanut. Then the Vaidya who would come if one us fell sick. The yard cleaning lady and general help Paru whose toothless smile lingers. The general store owner, I think his name was Ousep. Either he was the main one a little walk from the gate of the house or the smaller one who set shop next to rear end of our land from whom emergency supplies could be had by shouting across the kuccha fence. The  human scavenger guy was  nicknamed Pata karan Vatru! Then the guy who comes to de husk the coconut after plucking. The watering guy with his motor pump and equipment to water all the plants, not daily but, I think once in few months when there is no rain. He would dig temporary canales that magically turned, twisted. opened and closed under his skilful management to let water flow adequately to each plant and tree.

Then there were the cows, goats, hens. Occasional sightings of a snake and the mating calls of frogs during rains. We thus had nature in all its glory and magic.

Breakfast lunch and dinner was in the dining area next to the kitchen. The kitchen used firewood those days and earthen pots occasionally. That made the food more delicious. The dining area had a long wooden dining table with benches for seating. All us kids and the elder uncles if any would have the meal first. Lovingly served by the house keeper. If we had Kanji for dinner then we used Jackfruit leaf deftly made into a cone and used as a spoon.

Some of us would be taken to visit relatives. My father’s house (remember staying there too for a day or so with equally loving people and similar experiences), Granny sisters and brothers house are the ones that come to mind. On few occasions we had to cross the river Perirar on a barge.

The last few days was often filled with sadness and the final goodbye reducing us to tears.

These visits became the glue, the bond with loved ones (and believe me the whole Anat family was close knit and full of love and fun) and nature a world far removed from Bombay. Had visited the town few times during my mid-life, the temple, and relatives. The tharavad house was long gone. But these we nowhere as fulfilling as the childhood visits.

This then is a way of saying thank you to Kodungallore, the Bhagavati temple, nature and to those endearingly loving cousins, uncles, and aunts.