PROLOGUE

Though there has been no change in the speed of the rotation of the universe ever sine it was created by 'big bang', time moved slowly for the Orientals as Aldous Huxley wrote. Time moved even slower for us in India, more pronounced in Palghat.( Paghat and Palakkad are used interchangeably; when referring to old times, the term 'Palghat,is' used) . We measured our time by sun and moon, monthly and seasonal rhythms. No clock to be punched, records to be broken by fraction of a second; no goal, no ambition, no expectancy! Binge eating, couch poteto, white goods were not in our lexicography. Old life lived in simple country pursuit. "We stretched our legs only as far as the bedsheet could cover us."

The advent of T V, computer, and mobile phone, each followed by the other in close succession, has sent the world into a tailspin. "Time is our tyrant. We are chronically aware of moving minute hand, even of the moving second hand". (Aldus Huxley). Along came four-figure salary, white goods, flats social media, and reality show in our daily conversation.

I googled to find a place to run away from these gadgets and contraptions. I could locate none. An old editorial in Times of India, kindled my hope: "Ladonia, a country with lots of sunshine, wide rivers and thousands of daffodils, waiting to be occupied (a land without T V, internet and mobile towers). As things get tougher at home, dreams of a better life haunt. Thousands of people want to immigrate here. People from various countries wanted to know Ladonia Embassy's sddress in their country. My hope had been shattered when I read the concluding line: "The snag is, the country is available only in myth, created by a Swedish artist" ! (Times of India Editorial dt.18-3-2002.)

Now, "we live in an age with high regard for extraordinary lives - that is, lives that the vast majority of us will never lead" (From: the schoollife.com). Those 'born with copper spoon' long for silver spoon but mostly would not succeed! In the midst of people born with 'golden spoon', silver spoon is second rate!

My Palghat days are about its people, their way of life, immediately after independence and in general about Malayalis.

Mark Twain's description of Mauritius applies to this land: "You gather the idea that Mauritius was made first and then Heaven: and, then Heaven was copied after Mauritius".

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HATHING OF A BABY TThe firstf 10 years of my life was spent in Palghat (now, Palakkad). On a fortuitous alignment of constellations, I descended on the earth in a house named 'Kanaka Vilas', Vadakkanthara, near the famous Thirupuraykal Bhagawathy Temple. The house is stil there without being disturbed, except for the discoloration wrought by the seasonal changes, though neighbouring buildings have undergone a sea-change. They say I was still born. The family doctor Lakshmy Narayanan revived me (without asking for my choice). Much to the merriment of the gathering, I let out my first cry.

My grandfather (Thatha) had already noted the timing of my birth, correct to the last digit of the second, rushed to our family astrologer (JOLSYAN) , nearby, for drafting the horoscope. The jolsyan indicated that the planets were in conflict with one another and the new-born's future was anything but bright!

Had my grandfather heard this earlier, he would have "let the sleeping dog sleep"! Having been revived, there was no going back. The 'naamkaran' was done with all ceremonial aplomb.

ABOUT THE PLACE AND PEOPLE Palghat's geography is hilly terrain, ringed by Western Ghats and wilderness. Its landscape is a painter's delight. Three months in a year is very hot with sweltering heat, followed by tropical south-west monsoon, lasting for about six months, next, fleeting winter.

Tippu Sultan chose the maidaan here to build a fort, now known as 'Tippu Sultan KOTTA', surrounded by a broad moat; therein is a Hanuman Mandir; Sultan prayed here regularly is a folktale. Presently, the place is housing jails, post office, and some government departments. Near the fort is the famous temple - Madappulikkavu, the richest temple in the District owning three-four elephants and vast PARAMBU (ground).

This apart, the town is host to the famous Victoria College, whose alumni include T.N.Seshan and Metroman Sreedharan.

Malampuzha and its "Lake View" gardens are attractions; the underground acquarium is worth visiting; ropeway joyride would give a panoramic thrill.

During the first monsoon rains every year, there would be scores of deaths by lightning strike; thunder would be of high decibels. At times, there would be hailstorms.

Fireflies would be drawn by the petrichor and swarm the place. The light emitting bug is an endangered specie now. The moth is no more to be seen. It appears I have to go to "Mexico or Pennsylvania to see the critters". (Report in Quora dt., 14-8-2019.)

The rivers would run brimful, and unmindful of this, starting 3 a m the ladies from their 'hideouts', would emerge and walk in batches to the river for their bath with oil massaged in their body and hair. Most of the days, I would be woken up from my morning slumber by the squawk and squeak of these ladies.

After the bath, they would visit the KAAVU (temple where Devi is the presiding deity) nearby before returning home, with sandal paste conspicuously on their foreheads - THANGA BHASMAKKURIYITTA THAMBURAATTIs.

This was typical of Kerala. Alas! this has become a dead custom now due to the changes in weather pattern resulting in insufficient water in the PUZHAs (rivers), changes in fashion, and people's outlook.

In Palghat, the construction of Malampuzha dam, inaugurated by Nehru, to save and regulate the flow of water had contributed to the restricted flow. For the people taking two baths daily, this was very uncharitable.

PAlghet had been a one-horse town and jutkas drawn by ponies were the normal mode of conveyance. The first auto rickshaw came in 1958.

VISITORS Another lost to invasion of 'civilization' in contemporary Palakkad is the specimen of Naayaadies; they were basically beggars with blackened faces, but their appeal for alms had an alluring effect - they knew the head of the family of each household by name and begged, calling out their names. Thus when they come to our house, they would call my grandma: "Visalakshi Thambrattiye"; opposite, their call would be: "Kalyanikkutti amme" ... Thus they gave a personal and emotional touch to their calling (pun intended).

Bunderwallah and snake charmer would take turn to visit the houses on alternate weeks. It was always a pleasure to see the monkeys at their mischief. The bunderwallah would keep his simian friend always in good humour, in correct fitting colourful dress. The bunder, on long leash would climb up the treetops, holding the branch and hang; the next minute, on the floor doing cartwheeling, bring water in a toy-bucket, dance, jump and shake his head to the rhythmic tapping of the DANDA. But, these monkeys are poor, compared to their rich cousins in Sasthankotta, where they have Rs.10 lakhs deposited in Bank by one NRI to meet their daily needs.

India was once a land of snake charmers. He would come calling, open his round basket, wherein would be lying coiled, two, three snakes. When they are let out of the basket, would raise their hoods, to the piping tune,

Thanks to the animal rights activists, these have become things of the past.

STRATIFICATION If the Malayalis, in general, are an illustrious and enterprising lot, Palghatans are no less so. As in Tamils, so in Malayalis, there are various castes and sub-castes - Nair, Menon, Nambisan, Panikkar, Nedungadi, Namboodiri, Ezhva, etcetera. Namboodiris are considered super-Brahmins and occupy the priesthood of the temples.

Palghat town consists of eighteen quaint agraharams, peopled by Tamil Brahmins - Iyers (Iyengars are rare in Kerala) claiming their ancestry to Kumbakonam and Thanjavur. It is true, for they are only geographically alienated. Culturally there are few differences; and, as for their BHASHAIN, they speak Tamil, though heavily Malayalam accented.

Palghat brahmin cookery is akin to that of their Tamil counterparts except for a liberal sprinkling of coconut, salt and spices. Varieties of payasam (kheer) make the difference: in weddings, one can enjoy three varieties of payasam - paalada/Chakka (jackfruit), milk and yet another in coconut and jaggary. They engage special people to prod you to drink more! A very hospitable lot. Sugha bhojanam! Raja bhojanam!!

VILLAGE SCENE, CUSTOMS My maternal grand parents, initially stayed in a village , (Nellissery village), locals of which still are proud of for being the only village visited by both Mahatma Gandhi and the senior Sankaracharya of Kancheepuram; their sepia tainted photos still hanging in the community hall!

The houses in the Gramams (villages) are of single line on either side of the road, resembling a train without being seperated by the vestibules. No house would exceed the height of the temple flagpole (an unwritten rule); temples presided over by Shiva, Narayana or some Devi. The villages still retain their spinster charm, trying hard to resist the sinister captivation and mersmerisation of the New Century.

My Paatti (maternal gràndmother) was a well-preserved, well-collected woman, worldly wise, quoting scriptures, Malayalam poetry, and proverbs off-the-cuff; in her 12-yards saree she was majestic, noble and venerable.

Grandfather would start every New Year with the costly Hoe & co diary, noting therein the monthly salary he received from 'Sury Typewriting and Shorthand Institute'; he may also get some "pocket money" for repairing the type writer; he also had his lands in Puthir and Kaavalpaad and had been getting regular money from his farmers after selling the excess paddy. But after the introduction of land reforms, this became things of the past. While counting the daily cash, I have seen the Rs.100 note of the size of a near-A2 size paper. Any addition in the family tree and 'deletion' were also meticulously noted.

THATHA was punctilious in his deportment and sartorial elegance, wearing gold buttoned shirt and over that a coat, a Fabre Leuba round his left wrist making him a perfect 'Village School Teacher' of Oliver Gold Smith, specialising in Typewriting and Shorthand. Many of his successful candidates moved over to Bombay, the Mecca of job-seekers; some of them reached high position in life and exceptional was the rise of Elevancherry Ramupattali Ram kumar who became the Deputy Editor of the Illustrated Weekly of India (now defunct) in Pritish Mandy's time.

PEOPLE It is no exaggeration to say Palghat has produced stalwarts and wizards from music to motorisation: Chembai Vaidyanatha Bhagwathar, Anandarama Dheekshithr, T.N.Seshan, M.G.Ramachandran, Mrithangam Mani Iyer,hashi, Shashi Tharoor, Violin Subramaniam, Padmini sisters, Vidya Balan, Madhavan,Metroman Sreedhar and so many. Ambi's Cafe (now closed), Ambika Appalam, Giri Traders are also Palghat based.

CHILDHOOD I was his pampered child. During the car festival in our village, he used to advise me not to exert myself too much, thinking, the car is moving by my pressure alone. "Just keep touching the rope. There are others to take care", he would insist. If everybody thinks likewise, the car would remain where it started!

Maternal uncle (Mama),Vaidyanathan, was employed with the Municipal Office after his college studies. He could be found always in his white half-sleeved banian and mundu (dhoti). A shirt over the banian, sleeves folded would make him gentleman to a fault, ready for Office. The 'folder' was used to keep his coins and notes. He had a BSA bicycle, presented by his grandfather for passing his school final examination. He used the cycle for all his SAFARI within and outside the town. The cycle would have covered at least two lakh miles in its 50-year ride, before somebody knocked it off, finding unlocked on the road; the cycle had never been locked during its existence with him and when he returned to the spot, having found his life-long possession missing, made him morose and dejected. He had a gut feeling that the Town was losing its old world charm and slowly becoming a place for dishonourable people, not conducive to his type of living.

Mama had an ear for Carnatic music; he had a fling with flute. Often some classical song was on his lips. He had a British made 'Nationl Echo' radio, exclusively for his listening; "Bhavayami paripalam", and "Amba ninu neram" , by GNB with Mani on mridangam would send him tranced. The radio had transistors, of the size of en electrical bulb; mesh-wire aerial, tied at the top portion of the house to receive signals all the way from Madras was of poor quality relay; the disturbance would make Mama often switch off. Mayil vahanam, speaking from Ceylon Radio, in-between cinema songs was heard crystal-clear but Mama had no use for it.

Mama 'bequeathed' me all his collection of stamps over the years. Mostly foreign ones, a philatist's pride. I squandered them away, without realising their value. He had a healthy body and a healthy mind, getting up some days, very early, doing Surya namaskar to Sun God and Usha, the godess of dawn. He had married into Trichur Kalyan family.

My another distant uncle, Mani, tried his hand on mrithangam, the Carnatic percussional instrument. He left it half-way lest people will be confused with the original Mani Iyer! Tried as he might, he was not successful in coaching me swimming. Floaters were indigenous - made of two coconuts with fibre dried intact, joined by lengthy rope, I had to paddle with the coconut on either side, body floating over the water secured by rope.

NEW BEGINNING My grandfather - Parameshwara Iyer and his family left the village for a newly built, Kerala type, single-storeyed house, occupying a portion of a 10-plus ground plot, on the main road; it had broad forecourt, KOODAM teak-wood stairs with balustrade: kitchen, a KALAVARA (store room), granary.

Backyard fixed with milling and grinding stones; verieties of trees, both, flowering and fruit-bearing filled the space. Mention should be made of Chempaka Poo,(sampangi). Over the years it grew tall, into a tree, permeating the scent of its flowers. Snakes are known to be attracted to the smell. The house was an abode to all visiting relatives; a hang out for feathered friends. I do not remember to have seen the Thrush. Years later, I read Robert Browning's lines: "That's the wise Thrush,. He sings each song twice over. Lest you should think he could never recapture. The first fine careless rapture".

KOODAM, decorated with Raviverma paintings - Krishna with Gopis, Sri Rama, Lakshmy, Saraswathi, the name 'Vinolia' barely visible from the teakwood frame. The halls had high wooden ceiling, to mitigate the severity of the sun. A broad, well-polished teak plank OONJAL gave the KOODAM a completeness. There was a corral in the backyard with space seperately for storage of haystack. The house became a home after naming. "Lakshmy Baug", an address fit for featuring in "Mansion Global" magazine. Municipality officials came with pint of paint and brush and numbered the door 25/231. Grandfather nailed ' PARASYAM PATHIKKARUTHU' (Stick No Bills) on the newly white-washed wall. The next day we could see "Engal Veettu Mahalakshmi" with dog, "Inzaaniath" with monkey phoning, "Alibabavum 40 Kallanmarum", "Dool ka Phool", wall rarely visible!

In the garden, swing dangling by rope from the high branches of tree is a fixation, no house without. I like the spell of the swing ; long after disembarking , I would have the feeling of its to-ing and fro-ing! Robert Louis Stevenson liked it so much that he wrote "How Do You Like To Go Up In A Swing?"

Up in the air so blue Oh, I do think It is the pleasantest thing Ever a child can do Up in the air and over the wall Till I can see so wide, Rivers and trees and cattle and All over the countryside Till I look down on the garden green, Down on the roof so brown Up in the air I go flying again, Up in the air and down.

The making of the floor needs special mention: Before the arrival of mosaic and later, the tiled floor, red kumkum was added to the cement powder, pouring water, a red paste is made; thick layer of the paste is applied on the soiled surface, levelled and bsmoothened by manual labour and allowed to dry. After about a week, the floor is red and glistening, fit for the walk over. So smooth silken ! Any mis-step would lead to fall!

Much before the term 'rain water harvesting' was added to the lexicon, grandfather had collected the wasted rain-water that was pouring on the well-spread-out machine tiled-roof, and had been channeling to fall stright into the well.

THE WELL The well was of more than normal size with pellucid water charging year round. Guaging by its circumference, I guess the well shoud be very deep - at least 368 feet. In the absence of digging machines, they should have scooped the earth for several months before laying bricks.

"In the mid-18th century South East London, a little boy was being beaten by his mother for drinking the last of the water in their home during a draught. The Maharaja of Benares, heard this and immediately funded sinking of a 368-feet deep well in the village of Stoke Row, Chiltern Hills, still recognisable today by golden elephants stading sentinel. Hearing this, many other royals in India participated and financed sinking a row of wells to quench the thirst of Londoners!" (Condensed from: BBC Magazine)

THE GERMAN CLOCK A German made mechanical wall clock, fixed to the wall, touching the ceiling was hung, requiring weekly winding. As it reached the sixth day of the week, its pace was leisurely, every half-hour ding-dong strike, not as vibrant, ending with a whimper, needed recharging by winding. Grandfather would not like the clock to lag behind in time.

Not far away, was a Company making machine tiles - OTTU COMPANY. Daily at 8 a.m., and 5 p.m., the Company's siren would horn for one shift workers to assemble and the previous to disperse. Whole of the town's people would correct their watches with the hooting of siren. That was the time, my THATHA would stand up on the high-stool and correct the time, synchronising the clock's bell with the Company's hor

'MINING' YAM & PLUCKIN COCONUT There was almost a ceremony when grandmother 'excavated' yam from under the soil. From the leaves of the plant grown overground, she could surmise if the vegetable was ripe for digging out. Then, she will draw a square on the soil with a stone and ask the cookie to carve out exactly the area and depth so as not to hurt the fruit. Yam washed, pealed, chopped oil, chilly powder and salt added, deep fried, would be a great treat.

Grandmother's eyes, (without lenses) were as sharp as her brains. From the ground, she could assess the ripeness of the coconuts, up there, call the tree climber for downing the select fruits. If any unriped coconut is downed, sure he will get a mouthful from her.

NEIGHBOURS The opposite house was occupied by Mr. Janardhana Nair, a vakil. He was also an yoga enthusiast, much before the U N declared June 21st, the International Yoga Day! He has written a book on Yoga as well. He was the only legal luminary around and his house had been the meeting point of litigants. His son, Kripakaran, himself a lawyer rose to become a Magistrate of the District KODATHI (Court).

He had one beige Vaxhaul or its look-alike Hillman. He would sit and press the starting button to no avail. Then, his litigants and children would stand around, rotating the hand crank starter, one after another, and, by the touch of some lucky hand, the car would fire and fast it would run! He would need the lucky-hand's magic spell every time! And, even in a day, many times!

One of my uncles was his client. He had a Tharavad house - cycling only would help reach end to end! He was land-rich but not cash-rich; he had various cases. filed - for and agaist - and would never shy of walking to Ottappalam and back, attending court cases.

THE METAPHYSICS Snakes in varieties and sizes are not uncommon. They are known to slough their skin especially on full moon day. People believed in mantra for curing the poisonous bite as much as they believed the parrot to tell their future!

KAAVUs had VELICHAPPAD -Oracles ; when he was in the 'grip' of the Devi, would shiver from head to foot, feverishly shaking hands, holding the sword tied with ghungroo, making noise a macabre, eerie presentation! I have joined the que to place VAAL MEL PANAM and get BHASMAM SPRAYED, and get deity's blessings through the Oracle. There are still people practising necromancy, incantation, and cults indulging in withcraft, blackmagic, voodoo, levitation and persons claiming to have walked on water surface and other charlatans.

"But, this is nothing compared to the cult, 'Chasing Apocalypse' : Some years back, 39 members belonging to Dooms Day cult committed bizzare suicides in California, which is indicative of the social sores; there were "Heaven's Gate' cultists having timed their deaths with the approach of 'Hace-Bopp' comet. In Quebec, Canada, 5 members of the 'Solar Temple' cult, killed themselves; in December 1995, 16 cultists in Grenoble committed hirakiri on the day of the winter solstice. Cult gurus play havoc with susceptible minds exhorting their followers to heed to self-redemption!" (From my Scrap Book; Source: not known). The temple priests doing AANGYAM (gestures) almost present the god before you. The mantras and tantric rites played out in the temples of Kerala appear to have some primordial sanction! They still appear to have some CHAITANYM - power.

KALPATHY Of all the villages in Palghat, Kalpathy is the most famous. The village also gets good media coverage and publicity. Kalpathy radholsavam is famous, drawing crowd from beyond the confines of the borders. The heavy radham requires two elephants to give push, apart from pulling by devotees. Placing hurdles under the wheels is an art; roads are narrow; negotiating curves and corners need expert handling or else the vehicle would go astray. Dilittantes should never dabble in this. The hurdles are made of teak wood; two, three hurdles are always kept in readiness as "twelfth man" for immediate use, just in case the one in use chips away by the "tonner's" overbearing.

With radham reached its final stop, the crowd in unison will give a full-throated shout - AARAPPOOVE - throwing towels in the air to express jubiliation, and that is the final.

AKSHARABHYASAM, Initiation into education started with home schooling by Paatta Vadyar; and later joining Dr.Nair School,near the famous JAINI MEDU. Enough to say I was the pet of the Christian Head Mistress, (how I wish I remember her name!) hugging me inside the class to the envy of my classmates, including Mohan, her own son! I do not want to say I stood first in the class and be branded a Goebbels! Like any other kid of that age, slowly I walked to the school and while returning home it was fast. The medium of instruction was Malayalam; the text was "Chithravali", and in higher class it was "Bhashakaumudi". I still remember some of the lines in the poems I mugged up: "NAIR VISANNU VANJU VARUMBOL ..., " "NIRANJA PEELIKAL NIRAKKAVE KETTI ..." This is nothing to say about my retentive memory as to the involvement of the ADYAPAKS. At such young age they sowed the seeds of curiosity, and inquisitiveness in our minds. 'Matha, Pitha, Guru, Deivam', thus a Teacher takes precedence over God. For, a teacher is like a Dronacharya or a Viswamitra. My studies in Palghat ended with V standard, when my class teacher was Naithyar. Kunjulakshmy, Meenu are the other names I still remember. Narayana Master is remembered for inflicting corporal punishment.

OTHER LANDMARKS AND MILESTONES: (1) India's monetary unit changed from Rupees, Anna, Paisa to Naye Paise - Metric system. The old currencies were driven out of the system slowly. THATHA brought home freshly minted coins of 1, 2, 3, 5, and 10 in a framed cardboard. 25 paise coin and other denominations were introduced much later.

(2) Nehru came, Nehru saw, Nehru conquered! The township was agog, weeks ahead of his visit. The townspeople lined up on both sides of the broad road to get a glimpse of him. Our house was at vantage point and we had good darshan of him. Quite unlike these days, without paraphernalia, he travelled standing in an open jeep. He threw a garland and it straight landed on our compound, giving a narrow miss to some spectator. He was charimatic, sportive and smiling.

(3) The twosome, Gopinath and Thangamani's rhythmic dance was well choreographed, and movement fluid. I was too young to appreciat the BHAAVA in their faces much less its type - Bharta Natyam, Kuchipudi, Kathak, etc.

But Kathakali is of a different genre. It is all about costume, colour, body movement and gesticulations. "Keechaka vatham" started at 10 p m., with song , percussion instruments playing. In the climax Bheema kills the rakshas by hand, bucketful of red paint dripping from his hand. The thaandav concluded around 4 in the morning.

The rasikaas were in full appreciation for the formidable pair - G.N.Balasubramanian, with Palghat Mani Iyer on the Mrithungum but to my untrained ears, the music was lullaby-like, and soporific. I presume he played the first song in the Raag : Sivaranjani to calm me down and immediately 'Neelambari', for treating insomnia.

(4) There is an alley way, connecting the main road with the village, a shortcut. Oil lanterns fixed on a row of posts only illuminated the beaten path. It was the job of the government servant to keep the lamps burning during the nights. When it was sun down time, he would come on a bicycle with one ladder tied to it; wicks and oilcans were also his accessories. He would loosen the ladder from the cycle and keep it slanting agaist the pole, and pour oil from the can just enough to last until the day break. He would soak the wick, light it with the matchbox. He would repeat this exercise for each pole in the row. This was his daily duty, even when it was raining. Come dawn, the sunlight would be on, the wick lights would have died down. Now electricity helps, some time later solar lights may be on!

( 5) Since our house was on the main road connecting the bazaar, we would get a glimpse of all the goings on in the area, first. The day started like any other; it was a passable day. But, around 8 in the evening, there was commotion all around. As we were sitting in the forecourt, a long oxcart with a fresh carcass of a tiger, shot just hours before and, its limbs pinned to a pole raised on all the four corners of the cart, with hunter Munusamy, walking triumphantly like Jim Corbett or Kenneth Anderson, garlanded and crowd cheering gleefully, piping, drumming, cymbals sounding passed past us, and we were aghast, for I was seeing a tiger, even if deaf, for the first time in my life. It terrified me no end. For the sin of eating its staple diet, some cattle. it had to pay with life! 'Save tiger project' was yet to be born.

( 6) A parcel arrived from Madras, sent by my father and when it was unpacked and assembled, hi presto! Here was a tricycle! I was jumping and screaming in excitement. No sooner, I climbed over it, and pedaled my way in the lengthy forecourt. The wonderment took weeks to subside.

( 7) Another incident refusing to fade from my memory is the scene of a better portion of our neighbour Narayanan's house being engulfed in flames and the firemen trying to put out the fire without success, in the middle of the night. There was a ceremony - 13 the day obsequies performed to his father - and the embers left without proper watering, caused the inferno. Property loss adding to father's loss - double whammy! The hellish sight - the structure getting reduced to ashes, which until the previous moment was standing solid, his mother hitting her head against the wall,all were grisly and ghastly pathos. Equally spooky and scary was a building falling like nine-pins, with sand, soil and bricks flying in all directions. Torrential downpour tore down the old house. Luckily Manguzhi Govindan with family was out of station during the time. He was our neighbour, two houses removed.

I would have greeted him with "Hamedellah Al Salma" - 'Thank God for your safety' - 'a phrase used to welcome someone back from a trip' , (Quote from 'The Economist 1843', issue of August, 2020 - 'Beirut Blast') His herd of gregarious sheep was equally fortunate and I could get uninterrupted supply of milk, for like Gandhi, I was also on sheep milk for a while as it was considered wholesome and nutritious. It is rich in whey proteins helpful to boost immunity.

( 8) Onam is an occasion universally celebrated, houses decorated with pookkalam, guests entreated with kheer of more than one type. Men in simple mundu and a shirt, ladies in their half-whites, bejewelled, presenting grace-fullness and charm. The sadya (feast) is Epicurean. During this season In Guruvayur, the government organises Payasa Mela. Five-six different tastes make you sluggish and staggering! During Vishu and Diwali elders give kainettam. The highest, 8 Annas was reserved to be given by great-grandfather!

( 9) A doctor is the most popular person in a gramam. Next come teacher, priest, - in that order.

Dr.C.V.Raman, visited the village during certain hours in his Ambassador. Many, even if nothing bothers them, would visit him to get an oral certificate: 'You're all right'. These words from a doctor, on whom they repose confidence, would pep them up. Doctors may change, but Krishnan, the village compounder was a permanent resident, a go-to person in the absence of the physician. Due to accidental fall of some toxic liquid on his little finger, in his right hand, the skin lost its elasticity and had his finger bent outward, stiffened, sticking out and sore. The only pharmacy - Parasuram Pharmacy - was in bazaar area, miles away. The doctor's cacographically written prescription would be made into a colourful mixture by the apothecary. Doctor prescribes, compounder executes; doctor proposes, compounder disposes!

( 9) Kittappa Vadyar (the village priest) with his son Anantharaman, formed 'two-is-company.' Their presence was sine qua non for occasions and celebrations from womb to tomb. They knew the nakshatra on which each of the 500 and above residents in the Village were born and also the THITHIs of the dead, by heart. Anantharaman was a Professor of Sanskrit with Victoria College. After superannuation, he has moved over to Delhi.

( 10) Until I learned without falling, I was not sure I would learn to ride bicycle. Think of it, makes me wonder, how I ever did pedalling my way. I was in the same predicament as Drais. But for help forthcoming from my MAMA, I would not have learned the art. Zipping against the gravitational pull is a cumbersome art, until you learn.

From The Economist 1843 Magazine, August 2020: "In August 1815, a volcanic eruption of Mount Tamboura, in the present day Indonesia caused plume of dust and ash, surrounded the world, blocking out the sun and global temperatures plummeted; riots and looting broke out in Europe as harvest failed. Tens of thousands of people died from famine and diseases. Horses starved or were slaughtered, as the high price of oats forced people to choose whether to feed the animals or themselves! The predicament prompted Karl Von Drais, a German inventor to devise a personal transport machine to replace the horse: a two-wheeled wooden contraption, Sitting on its saddle, Drais propelled it by planting his feet on the ground and pushing every few minutes, while steering it. He travelled 40 miles in four hours, equivalent to a horse's speed. The tricky part was balancing, while gliding along, which took some practice. Drais's invention was lauded, though did not replace the horse. "Much later between 1860 and 1880, in France the carrier was improvised with pedals, steel frames and other refinements and became recognisably, a modern design : the bicycle."

(11) No sooner I kept my fingers on a door hinge than a pain spread from head to foot, making me reel, roll, rotate writhing in pain, howling. All in the house crowded over me, and could locate the attacker, jumping from the door-joint and crawling past - a scorpion! Its stinging tail was cut and allowed to run its way. PAATTI made a paste of asafoetida and applied the balm around the wound. It was a placebo without any clinical effect.

( 12) To a woman, her prized possession is Diamond . Patti's diamond ear stud had all 3-Cs - cut, clarity and carat. While she was loosening the stud and simultaneously cooking - multi-tasking, the stud slipped from hand and fell into fire, covered with a heap of ashes. After dousing the fire, our attention was now to retrieve the stone, before it becomes an "absolute total loss", a phrase used in insurance, where the cost of recovering is more than the value of the salvaged stuff. The ashes and carbon were removed by sieving and the diamond could be located in third round. With bated breath and sobbing, Paati was brought to the scene, the feeling of anxiety, anguish and anticipation writ large on her wizened face.

( 13) Till the age of eight or nine , I was brought up without any idea of death. I had no occasion to see a dead body, until Appunni Panikkar's mother (opposite house), a THALLA (old woman) pushed herself into their well and committed suicide. Her mortal body was carried on a hearse, covered by flowers and wreath, mourners following. It was a very distasteful scene, a creepy sight. I heard from my PAATTI that the corpse would be fed into flames and that we can no more see THALLA and that was the end; a full stop to being. Also, Patti explained something like this: "Once on the earth, once, on this familiar spot of ground walked other men and women... now all gone, one generation vanishing into another, some as utterly as we ourselves shall shortly be gone, like ghost at coxcrow". (G.M. Trevelyne in London Review of Books). "Not to worry", I reassured PAATTI, God doesn't like our company. We will not be summoned so soon. We'll see others go. Lastly we will go so we can see there all our friends".

It was here I was born. It was here I lost my milk teeth . It was here I first learned my alphabets. It was here I first saw the lightning, heard the thunder, felt the raindrops. It was here I first saw the rainbow, thinking it will be a permanent fixture in the sky, but when the cloud disbursed, the rainbow dissipated. Comparing life itself to rainbow makes me brood about life. It makes me philosophical.

Johnson wrote, "Remembered yesterdays". These are my "Unforgettable Yesterdays".

EPILOGUE After the bifurcation of states languagewise, Palghat was no more with Madras presidency. So, my father, thought it wise to move me over to Madras. A Brexit decision, not knowing what the future holds! For me, emotionally it was forbidding. I should make a fresh beginning in an altogether new environment!

"Through the night of sound and sorrow Onward goes the pilgrim band, Singing songs of expectation, Marching to the Promised Land."

What do I know of the Promised Land? At that age, I did not even know the grass on the other side always looks greener. All I knew was the place I spent all these years was peaceful, stable, simple and contended. Unenviable.

Memory is about the past. Hope is about future. Dreams of tomorrow are better than the history of the past. With Shakespearean thought, "We know what we are, we do not know what we may become", I barged in to the bogey, destination Madras.

Krishnamurthy Natarajan 7, "Abhimanyu Homes" 43, Devi Palniswamy Road Kanathur Reddy Kuppam, East Coast Road (ECR), Chennai - 603112. / Mob.: 7708832120