This is the first time I drove down the “theera desham” road.
The road connecting Cochin and Alepuzha via the beach. A wonderful road with absolutely no traffic.
I just took in the scenery and had a pit stop at the Mararikulam beach.
I couldn’t stay for long as the clouds were getting darker
and darker and was threatening to come down any time.
I was on my way to attend a funeral which was scheduled the
next day. The funeral of someone who was very close to me.
Some people come and go in your life, leaving a lasting
impression, and you carry on with the memories of that person. One such person
is Kama.
Some lovingly called her Kama but to me she was Theyamma
aunty. She was very hard working but
still found time to take care of your smallest needs. She never minced words
nor spoke diplomatically but always said the right things at the right
time.
I remember her being firm in her dealings especially with the
trespassers who used to trespass our property (as a short cut) to go to Dr
Madhavankutty’s house. At that time we just had a pattal veli (fence) with no
gate and it was easy for people to walk through. Now of course the same
property has a huge gate at the same place.
With an equally huge house
Which was something like this
earlier:
And
before the greenery came it was something like this in black and white.
Somewhere in
1967 we did “shramadaan” and converted our “Thodu” into a “chennkal road” It
was a fun project as the people staying in the area constituted the “manpower”
Lillykutty aunty and Theyamma aunty were a part of it, including me, Soman,
Venu and Indira (my local friends) Now of course it’s a tarred road:
Incidentally
the shop that you see on the right was the dispensary of Dr Madhavankutty, and
adjacent to it was the “meeshakaran” tailor.
Every moment
that I spend in that house consists of memories of her.
I remember
the time when the calf in our house was sold off to the butcher for Rs 500/-
(the practice was that if the calf is a bull, it was sold off) My aunt got so attached to the calf within a
month that there were tears in her eyes when the butcher took it away.
To save
money, she used to go to the fields near Pallathuruthy to cut grass and bring
it home as fodder for the cows. Now this bale of grass was huge (something like
6 ft in diameter) I used to always wonder how she could carry such a huge load
on her head when her frame was less than 5 feet (she was the shortest in the
house)
I remember
her telling me “athu madhi, ini melilottu keranda” (that is enough don’t climb anymore) This was when I was trying to
climb this coconut tree.
She was
always around with a helping hand (and some advice) when we were putting up the
“Thoru” (hay stacked up in a particular way for the rainy season)
Or when we
were tying up the new roof for the “extended store room”
Her memory
was something that baffled everyone. Whenever we visited her at Thiruvella, she
used to come up with some old stories or incident with the finest details, like
how in 1965 my Dad came from Byculla to Bombay Central and broke the news about
grandfather’s death. Before he said that he took the infant that she was
holding. That infant was Titus.
She had
perfect information of all the relatives and would tell me all details about my
cousins, whether they are in Ireland or America or any part of the world.
Whenever we went to Kerala, all of us
made it a point to visit her:
During her
last rites, there was a priest who spoke a few words about her and I realised
that he knew her well during her stay there.
After the
ceremony, I went and met this priest and had a chat with him. He said that she
was known as the “Praav Ammachi” (mother of pigeons) as she used to feed them
regularly. She had even named each one like chikko, moni, pippi etc. and they
used to respond to her call and come close to her. She was friendly with all the
dogs too. The priest said “how much love you give to others,
whether its animals or humans, you get back in same measure”
He said, “usually when people get old and is on their
last leg of life, they become aggressive and irritated, but she was not like
that”
It is just
an irony that her final resting place is overlooking this lush greenery right
next to the river.
The next
time I pass this bridge at Thiruvella, I have to just look up to see our
Theyamma aunty (kama)
