I remember, I remember,
The house where I was born,
The little window where the sun
Came peeping in and morn;
- Thomas Hood
For long, I have been thinking of writing about my
childhood days. Somehow, I have been postponing the same. Suddenly I have
developed a feeling that it is now or never. So let me make a beginning here.
I am sure that my childhood was somewhat unique in
that the culture and day-to-day life in Malnad was altogether different in
those days. It is true that we had very poor resources to maintain our
day-to-day life. But definitely we had an eventful and even adventurous life.
I have a problem here. I am neither a poet nor a
novelist who can describe each event with his own imaginations. My poetic
imaginations and capabilities are very much limited. So I may not be able to
add colour to any of the scenarios or events by exaggerating the same. But I
can do one thing. That is to write the things as they were! I think the God was
quite generous to me in giving me this ability to write. To quote the famous
Bengali novelist Sharatchandra, "all
those who have two legs may be able to walk; but definitely all those who have
two hands cannot write!" That is God's gift to me. So let me do
justice for the same. I begin by invoking the blessings of the great Sringeri
Sharadamba!
I should mention here that my birth itself was not
ordinary! It was my maternal uncle who made my birth memorable. This maternal
uncle (my mother's cousin) was the sole male member in my mother's large
family. He was a handsome young man who had just been married. He was loved by
one and all in our family. He visited my house on the day of my birth and told
my parents to name me after him! It was quite an unusual request. But
considering the seriousness with which this request came, my parents obliged.
Believe it or not! Hardly within a few days of my naming ceremony, my maternal
uncle passed away on account of a strange sickness leaving behind his young
wife as a widow. To this day this matter remains a mystery in my family. Did my
uncle have a premonition of his death and wanted me to continue his legacy?
This question remains unanswered.
In those days, no hospitals or nurses were involved
in the delivery of a child. There used to be this Soolagithi called Puttu. She
would visit the house just at the fag end of the pregnancy period of the mother
concerned and fix the date of expected delivery well in advance. This visit
also served the purpose of morale boosting for the pregnant lady and the
family. She would visit the house again at the appropriate time to conduct the
delivery. There was not even a single case of loss of child or the mother.
Puttu maintained this unbroken record till she stopped this activity on account
of her old age. As far as I remember, it always used to be a free delivery! I
mean, she never charged a single paisa for her services. People used to some
how manage to make her accept some cloth, rice or arecanut to show their
affection and gratitude to her. I was also one of the privileged free
deliveries of Puttu! As was the tradition in our family, my father personally
planted an arecanut tree in our garden to celebrate the birth of me. I am proud
to say that this plant is yielding arecanut till today, appears quite strong
and is not exhibiting any old age syndromes so far!
I am really not in a position to remember the exact
period in my life when my mind started recording the events happening around
me. My father was the person with whom I was very close in my childhood days. I
used to sleep with him in the same bed and he used to give some "Bayi
Patha’ (oral recitation lessons) to me daily. I was made to learn the names of
all days in the week, all thithies in a fortnight, all months in the Hindu
calendar, all the Samvatsaras, all the Stars (Nakshatras), Ashta Dikpalakas,
etc. Before going to sleep I was also made to recite the shloka beginning with
"Ramaskandam, Hanumantham, Vynatheyam ...etc." In the morning I was
to invariably get up on my right side only. Before commencing our meals in the
noon we were to recite the mantra "Annapoorne, Sadapoorne, Shankare
Pranavallabhe, etc.” After finishing taking of bath we were to pronounce
"Govinda, Govinda" to announce the completion of bathing. My father
was very much particular in these matters and permitted no deviations in this
routine. In his absence, my eldest brother would ensure the same from me.
My father was my hero in those days. There appeared to
be no end to his heroics. The word fear was unknown to him. He was an expert in
climbing tall trees. Even during the heavy rains he could climb the tall arecanut
trees and spray the chemical mixture to protect the crop. He would jump from
one tree to another tree using an instrument called 'dhoti' to pull the trees.
He was not afraid of snakes and could kill them with ease. They were regular
visitors to our Malnad houses in those days. Of course, he was not supposed to
kill serpents as they were supposed to belong to the family of Adisesha. We all
knew how to distinguish them from ordinary snakes and black Cobras. They would
exhibit their hood prominently and we could find the imprint of Vishnupada on
their hood clearly. We were expected to prostrate before them and request them
not to harm us and to leave the place peacefully. If any family members saw a
dead serpent, the head of the family was supposed to conduct all the rituals of
death (SarpaSamskaram). For this, one was supposed to visit Subramanya in South
Kanara District. My father had to undertake this on two or three occasions.
We were all afraid of the ghosts in our childhood. We
were particularly afraid of this female ghost called Kolli Devva. It was
supposed to move around our village in the night carrying some burning sticks
in its hands. There was only one way of finding out whether it was a real ghost
or otherwise. Its feet used to be invariably turned backwards. We were told
that my father was successful in teaching a lesson to this Devva by identifying
it correctly at the right time. One particular night my father was returning
from Koppa town. It was a dark new moon day. But my father had absolutely no
problem in walking in absolute darkness as he had no fear and his eyes were very
sharp through the night. This Kolli Devva appeared from nowhere and sought the
help of my father in the guise of an old woman. But my father could identify it
within no time by seeing the directions of its feet. Any other person would
have frozen in absolute fear. But not my father! He snatched the fire sticks
from this ghost and threw them on its face! The ghost simply ran away! We heard
this story umpteen times from different sources and felt proud of our father
every time.
There was another ghost, which had this strange habit
of appearing below a Jackfruit tree near our house every night. It would go on
howling wildly during a particular time of the night. We children would wake up
and start shivering in our beds with fear. My father could not take this nonsense
for long. He thought it was high time to teach this ghost a lesson. He decided
to give this ghost a taste of its own medicine! One particular night, he went
below this jackfruit tree well before this ghost could reach there as he had
marked its timings. Believe it or not! He went on howling imitating the voice
of the ghost! We were told that the original Devva when it appeared for its
usual rounds, found another Devva already in place! Naturally it took to its
heels! It never came back revisiting the place. You can imagine how much proud
we children used to be about our heroic father.
I vividly remember the only occasion when I came
almost face to face with one particular ghost. My eldest brother and myself
were on a visit to the house of our mother's maternal uncle. It happened to be
another new moon day. Before we went to bed in the night, we were told that
there was this ghost on a mango tree near the house. It would come for its
usual rounds during the midnight and call out our names loudly. We were
supposed to just ignore the call and not to respond to its calls. Hearing this,
I started shivering even before we went to the bed. There was another problem.
We had to sleep in the Veranda, which had no doors to protect us when the ghost
came visiting. As expected, the ghost did come on its rounds as we could make
out by its footsteps. Believe it or not, it started calling me by my name! I
held on to my brother firmly and started the 'Ramanama Japam' which was a sure
recipe for such situations! The ghost had to return empty handed!
Another instrument of fear for us children in those
days was the risk of 'Gumma' calling
on us! Whenever we gave trouble to our elders, they would warn us that they
would call this Gumma! This was a normal threat given to us if we refused to
eat or did not stop weeping. We were quite aware of this Gumma as a reality as
its howling was heard many a times during the nights. What was worst, we were
aware that even the Lord Krishna was afraid of this Gumma! Our elder sisters used
to sing this cradlesong composed by the great Purandhara Dasa in which Krishna fervently begs his mother not to invite this
Gumma! He assures her that he would not be naughty and eat his food regularly
if only his mother does not call this Gumma! You could very well appreciate our
apprehensions on this Gumma as we were after all humans! When I grew up I came
to know that this Gumma was, after all, the harmless bird owl, which had its
vision only at night!
-- (To be continued)--
4 comments:
Wonderful AVK! You rock!! You have taken us back to our childhood. Many of us share these childhood experiences. But we lack the felicity to write like you. Looking forward to this serial blossoming nicely!!!
Thanks NN
Sir, delighted for having got to read the wonderful story in this blog and the plot feels so refreshing, even though this is my second reading :-)
Thank Ashu
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