At Chengara, tea estate bungalow, after my milk, bun and banana, I waited eagerly for Pappachachen to be ready to begin my adventure trip, to the estate: my footwear was always BATA, the one and only rubber slipper, white base and blue strap, growing up and even today, lessons learnt as a child never dies hard, we were all pretty much paranoid about keeping the foot clean, always rubbing them on the granite stones just outside the house, or the bathrooms which had stones embedded in the flooring to rub feet, or the cement steps which had the coarse sand rough to scrub any tough dirt away, cleaning the BATA rubber with coconut husk (chakiry) was a ritual for all of us at home.
I was ready with my BATA ON and checking inside out.
When Pappachachen appeared he looked at me, and my slipper. He must have said to himself, I cannot have her slipper dirty so the only way out is to carry her in my arms.
We started our journey downhill; the pathway was narrow, brown in color, damp and wet. but the scenery was amazingly beautiful, the mushroom shaped tea plants were so close to each other, the curvature joined seamlessly to form a green lush blanket of tea leaves. Every hour of the day had a magical effect on the hill, green lush with dews, shining like crystals in the sun.
We walked to the base estate office and Pappachachen, introduced me to the various people there and there were his favorite kankaani’s, they all were always eager to speak with me and I was all the more happy to reply in the little Tamil I knew.
I could hear the roar which silenced the sound of everyone around me, then I spot the huge bird with a fan on top, the real one: the Helicopter, the Chopper, which came down and just perched on top of the barren land, like an egg top amidst the lush green around. This was the first UBER I saw in my life ever, these choppers were called on demand by the estate from a private owner, this was used to spray pesticide on the tea plantation.
Being ignorant about eventualities makes you fearless, so I was fearless and absolutely no butterflies in my stomach ever. I was so eager to climb in, just like getting into the transport bus, but this had very limited seats. I was ready to make my first journey ever in a chopper, and was given a window seat; this was just the one of the 4 seats available. The second time I got into a chopper was in Alaska!!
The takeoff and landing was dusty and I could see the people around covering their face like the Bedouins, no one could hear anyone talking and I just sat looking down at the green, different shades of green, with contours so well defined, the brown lines swirling in between, homes like matchbox in various sizes, trees like umbrellas. The slightly blue solution was being sprayed from start to end and it was like rain under the chopper.
The adventures were nonstop at Chengara, the next one was the beehive and extraction of honey, this was perfect engineering, wooden frames, bee hive, queen bee, lots of bees, flowers, pollen, wax and honey. Pappachachen’s staff took me to show the natural hives in the form of bird nest on tree tops, in the crevasse of walls, in between rocks and it was an art mastered over years of experience to make sure they are not bitten by the most ferocious swarm of bees.
They used special knives to separate the hexagonal hive, squeeze out the honey and pour into my little cupped hands, which I drank to my heart’s content. They always carried shallots which is great to crush and apply on a swollen bee stung area.
My next encounter was with the Leech, many a times, I saw my little friends around who are so used to all the habitats around plucking the body of the leech from their legs, leaving the head behind, still feasting on the blood. They apply slaked lime, to release the head, blood would be oozing out, I have also seen them applying paste of Muthira leaf – I am not sure whether it was for bee sting or for leeches.
This was one place where nature was at its best and the people are out of the world, their life revolves around green leaves, tall trees, water ripples everywhere and brown soil. The best of natural food, vegetable, meat, fish, water, absolutely wonderful gifts of nature and they were never polluted with artificial sentiments. Real people, real spirit.
Pappachachen is an embodiment of determination, steel determination in a steel body. His nature was like the mother chicken, forever protecting every chick under her wings, from any eagle soaring above. He was very firm in his ideologies and had very strong convictions, being the eldest son in the family; it was a default habit for all to take his opinion in pretty much everything that matters in life. He was never partial to anyone. VERY FARE!!!!
I have always admired and adored his patience, skills and temperament. It’s very seldom that I have seen him upset, and when he is upset it was best for anyone around to go into mounavritham (wary silence).
Another fascinating thing is about his style and appearance, I have never come across anyone who has stuck with the same hairstyle, same moustache, a little, a wee little longer than Hitler’s, cut straight down, absolutely perpendicular to the lips, same complexion. His command in English, Mathematics, Accounts, Agriculture, Home tips and remedies were too good, perhaps second to Valiappachen and Valiammachy respectively.
Valiappachen had this thurupu gulaan question, to the manglish experts who visit him:
Translate the following without a pause and be sure it’s just a single sentence:
ഇന്ദിര ഗാന്ധി ഇന്ത്യയുടെ എത്രാമത്തെ പ്രധാന മന്ത്രി ആണ്?
I have seen many starting off with the “How much? How many? What? Which number? What order?
You can try and have fun!!!
Pappachachen is very disciplined with his eating habits, just like Amma and Valiammachy, I can never forget his constant lament to me, “look at your diet, you just thrive on Pazhanchoru, kaachiyamoru, meen and pickle, you keep feeding everyone with the best of VITAAAMIN, can’t you drink some juice, eat more protein, fruits etc. and look at you.”
It’s not deliberate, but just like him my habits are also pretty much cast in stone. I can’t make myself adapt to a different lifestyle ever, tough luck for me. He used to warn me of ulcer, with the amount of red chilli powder and pickle I consume, but I can never let go the amazing meen vevichathu and naaranga achaar.
I have never been a fan of fish, meat and prawn pickle, but can never forget the mouthwatering konchu achaar Pappachachen and Ponnammamma used to make for me. He participates in every household activity and Ponnammamma makes them as close to my Valiammachy. Too good to explain, my hostel days at St Teresa’s Ernakulam, was made memorable with the constant supply of pickle and other mouthwatering dishes that was brought from beyond the thoppumpady paalam, and believe me these prawns, were just the size of half a naya paisa, when I think of the effort and commitment to clean the prawns from scratch, I can’t but hug them enough for the love they had for me….
More than me, my hostel mates used to wait for my visitor at the parlor, and the minute they see him, they ran and collected the parcel and literally finished them before I could meet him. Those were the days when we lived to eat and just to eat and be happy.
To be continued
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