Staying healthy
By: K S SPillai
When I learned that the air quality in the national capital was so dangerous that people avoided going out, offices asked their employees to work from home, and schools were closed indefinitely, I could not help but remember the old days in my village.
Because of modern devices, women had a hard time. They drew water from the well near the kitchen for all kinds of use. Water drawn from wells, rivers and canals was drunk directly, as it did not contain chemicals used later by farmers for increased yield.
Cooking was done over hearths, whose usual fuel was split wood, supplemented by coconut shells, dry twigs and leaves of trees in the compound. Most of the time, women split the wood. There was a platform above the hearth to store the wood that became dry from the heat.
The kitchen had different types of grinding stones to prepare spices for dishes and batter for the next day’s idlis and dosas. There was also a mortar and pestles to de-husk paddy and pound rice. As the women did all the work manually, they did not need extra exercise to remain physically fit.
People usually bathed and washed clothes in the nearby river, whose water flowed throughout the year without any dams that stored water. Children who went for bathing would spend much time swimming with friends in the river.
Usually, the villagers were farmers with paddy fields, compounds with trees, and animals like cows whose dung was used as fertiliser. Most houses had a storeroom for paddy from which fresh rice was prepared. The compounds grew vegetables of different kinds. Sesame was also grown in the paddy fields once a year when they did not have paddy plants.
Every village had an oil press for extracting oil from dried coconuts and sesame. The resultant cakes were used to feed cows and as fertiliser.
The breakfast in most houses consisted of pazhamkanji or last evening’s leftover rice gruel. It was usually consumed with curd or fish curry, providing sufficient energy for long hours of manual work.
Women fishmongers visited each house in the morning with a basketful of fish caught the previous night from the river. They did not use chemicals or ice to keep the fish fresh.
Teashops served idlis and dosas with coconut chutney and sambar. The batter was prepared by rotating a heavy pestle in a stone mortar for about two hours the previous evening. Customers ate these items with glasses of coffee or tea, mostly without milk, while discussing the newspaper reports of the day.
People used to walk barefoot. They even went to nearby places by walking. Though there were bus services, they preferred to walk as buses took a long time to reach their destination, as they had to cross rivers on ferries.
Youngsters assembled in the evenings to play different games, unlike those who played games on their mobile phones today. That also strengthened the mutual bonds that made them life-long friends.
Houses were usually thatched with woven coconut leaves, while a few had tiled roofs. People usually slept on the cool earthen floor, frequently plastered with cow dung. All neighbours actively participated in the yearly changing of thatches, constructing pandals for marriages and other social events, preparing feasts and such activities.
People believed in home remedies when they suffered from minor diseases. Every house had medicinal plants in its compound to be used when someone fell ill. Even when they suffered serious illnesses, people went to Ayurveda doctors who prescribed herbal remedies.
Everything has changed now. During a recent visit, when I ordered idlis that were available in all restaurants in the past, the waiter told me that only parathas and beef were available.
Fast food like pizza, noodles, hamburgers, hot dogs and doughnuts are now consumed in large quantities. As they are high in saturated fat, sugar, salt and calories, they cause cardiovascular diseases, cancer, obesity, high cholesterol, depression and similar illnesses that lead to early mortality.
The old days now remain only in the memory of the old folk.
(The author is a retired professor of English. A regular contributor to ‘The Kashmir Vision’, his articles and short stories have appeared in several national and international publications)
