Beating the heat
By: K S S Pillai
Though Earth is the only planet with life, man, the most dominant of its occupants, has been treating it badly. The planet is in dire straits due to his ever-increasing greed and desire for comfort.
The climate throughout the world has become unpredictable. Sudden floods and landslides that bring down a portion of mountains with trees and rocks destroy hundreds of houses and wash away strategic highways.
Large-scale deforestation takes place to construct buildings for the rising population. Rivers and lakes are encroached upon for the same reason. Water bodies are polluted by throwing all kinds of waste and chemicals from factories and agricultural fields into them. Rich countries dump their dangerous wastes into their poor cousins’ territory.
Recently, there was a film strip about the present condition of Mother Earth. An affluent man gets out of his swanky car, enters his home after walking through the compound made colourful by paver stones that do not allow a drop of rainwater to seep, closes all doors and windows, and presses the remote control to start the air-conditioner.
While he is sleeping comfortably at night, a thunder booms, and the electricity trips. The air-conditioner and electric fans stop working. The man has a sleepless night. When his old milkman asks him in the morning why he looks so tired, he explains and asks how the latter looks fresh. “We are too poor to have air-conditioners, Sir. We keep the windows open, and the constant airflow makes us sleep soundly.”
I remember how we used to face the high temperature in our hometown in Kerala years ago. Most houses were thatched with seasoned, woven coconut leaves, allowing enough air to enter them. Buildings with concrete roofs were rare, and only a few had tiled roofs.
The floor of the house was plastered frequently with mud and cow dung. Most people used to sleep on mats spread on the floor. Plots of land used to be demarcated with fences of wild plants with sweet fruits. The compounds had many plants with colourful flowers.
The surrounding areas were sandy, letting the rainwater seep underneath. Drinking water was drawn physically from the well with a bucket tied to a rope, the only mechanical help being the pulley above the well. That, in addition to the mortar and pestle, kept the womenfolk healthy.
We used to take baths in the nearby river in the morning and evening, spending a lot of time in the water. Women would go to the river in the afternoons with the clothes of all family members to wash them and take baths while exchanging gossip. Males kept their upper body bare and used a thin cotton towel to wipe away the sweat. Women also wore sarees, dhotis or lungis made of cotton.
There were several trees like coconut, mango, and cashew in the compounds, offering shades. When schools were closed for summer vacation, we used to get mangoes and cashews dropped by winds, crows and squirrels. Drinking water was stored in a mud pot to keep it cool. The usual breakfast consisted of fermented rice gruel made with the last night’s leftover rice, along with curd or buttermilk and green chillies. When the heat was overpowering, people used to fan themselves with hand fans made of dry palm leaves.
Most people would walk barefoot, only a few wearing chappals. There were no schools that made uniforms compulsory, making students wear ties, socks and shoes.
All that has become things of the past. Devices like fans, air-conditioners, refrigerators, water purifiers, and such things have become parts of our homes. Like the man who could not sleep without air-conditioners, we are paying a heavy price, unable to face the frequent climate changes.
(The author is a retired professor of English. A regular contributor to The Kashmir Vision, his short stories and articles have appeared in many national and international publications)
KV News
