The changed villages
By: K S S Pillai
The lifestyle of people would change naturally with the advent of several gadgets unthinkable in the past. My village also has moved with time, and if Rip Van Winkle had fallen asleep there, he would have been surprised to find a brand new place when he woke up.
I often remember the life in my village when I was young, though it is difficult to say whether I was happier then. The male members of the society, irrespective of the difference in their affluence, used to keep the upper part of their body bare due to the hot climate that prevailed during most parts of the year.
They carried a thin white towel called ‘thorthu’ either tightly wound around their heads or kept loosely on their shoulders to wipe away the sweat intermittently. They would bathe in the nearby Pamba River at the end of the day. A bronze lamp would be lit around twilight in front of the portrait of their favourite deity, and all would sit down and loudly sing a prayer before supper.
All used to bathe in the morning and evening in the river. As its waters were shallow during the summer, children would spend much time taking their baths. They would often swim to the other bank once or twice before winding up their baths.
Women would take the worn clothes of the entire family in the afternoon to the bathing ghat on the bank and exchange news with others while bathing. The river would be flowing fast with muddy water during the monsoon, and people would remain close to the bank, not venturing into the deep waters.
The breakfast would usually be the ‘pazhankanji’, the leftover cooked rice kept overnight in the clay pot in the rice water. It would be consumed preferably with the fish curry of the previous evening with a couple of small onions and green chillies. It was considered nutritious, giving enough energy even for manual workers.
Most school-going children would visit the nearest temple immediately after bath and smear their foreheads with sandal paste thrown into their hands by the priest.
Our part of the village had three tea shops. Those who preferred tea or coffee with or without milk would go to the nearest one in the morning. The usual fare in all the teashops would be dosas and idlis with sambar and coconut chutney.
One shop was owned by Raman Nair, who ran it with his sons. Another was run by Ashan, who used to teach the Malayalam alphabet to children, and his nephews. Few people knew his real name. The third one was owned by Rehman. The owners used to subscribe to one of the Malayalam newspapers that agreed with their political views. The customers would read the paper aloud and would often have heated discussions. Despite the political differences, people would continue to remain friends.
Most people who resided across the river were fishermen. They would cross over to our tea shops in their country boats after auctioning their overnight catch on the riverbank in the morning. Some would carry parcels of dosas or idlis for other family members.
Most houses had thatched roofs, while a few had tiles. Concrete houses were non-existent. All men in the neighbourhood would take part in laying fresh thatches on a building while the women would lend a hand in preparing food for all. Food was cooked in hearths using dried leaves, twigs or split wood stored over the hearths for drying as the fuel.
Water was no problem as every house used to have a well near the kitchen. Since the state received good rainfall, there would be no shortage of drinking water. Water would be drunk directly from the wells. It would be stored in clay pots as cool drinking water.
Vegetables needed for the house would be grown in one’s compound. Cooking oil would be coconut oil, milled in the village oil mill that worked with bullocks. The oil cake would be used for feeding the cattle.
(The author is a retired professor of English. A regular contributor to ‘The Kashmir Vision, his articles and short stories have appeared in various national and international publications)
