My Siblings and
our Happy Vacation
Munnar always brought golden memories to all the six
of us. The Estate life was fascinating. We had golden memories connected with Munnar and the Kannan Devan Tea Estates, especially our Silent Valley. We had a happy time and we always looked forward to our vacation in Appachen’s quarters.
It was heaven to us. We had our permanent swing. Outing, trekking, and visiting friends were some of our main occupations. Then, of course, eating Ammachy’s special delicacies. Sometimes our relatives from Yellappetty and Graham’s Land would come and stay with us. We in turn would go there and stay with our maternal uncle and family. (Appachen had brought him to Munnar.) We were very close. Salamma, Raju, Joykutty, and Premela were their children. We played with them all the popular games we could play with stones, cards, and other things. We, youngsters, imagined cots to be buses or trains and played driver or conductor. We cut paper in the size of the tickets. One of us would get into the hand- cart and the others would pull, and we had a happy ride. The Estate carpenter had made a four-wheeled cart for us and on that also we took turns for the drive.
During night time we enacted plays we composed on our own. My brother Babu and the boys were on one side and we, Premela, and I were on the other side. ( I think Salamma joined my elder sisters in a more ‘serious’ engagement. Achachen and Ammai would be talking to Appachen and Ammachy. Ammai, like Ammachy, was a great talker, and it was interesting to listen to them.) The boys did “Kadhaprasangam”-story-telling with songs in between—the story was based on a stolen pickled mango. Ammachy had preserved the salted mango in a big jar beneath a table. One day I happened to take one mango out of it and Babu caught me at red hand, though it was not meant to be a theft. The story-telling was based on this incident and they made fun of me by calling me ‘an uppumanga kalli’(a thief who has stolen a salted mango). I still remember the pang of humiliation and anger I felt at that time.
I feel sad that Salamma and Premela are no more. I remember how Salammma lovingly treated me at U.C.College hostel years later, when our CMS College Hockey team met theirs at the Inter-collegiate tournament and we had to stay one night there. Premela was my junior in college, and we played Hockey and attended the coaching camps together during the vacation. She stayed at our Puthenangady home then.
Real storytelling took place when our cousin Valia Joychayan(Big Joychayan) came. He was Big Joychayan to us as our own direct eldest brother was the younger Joychayan, who was studying Bio-Chemistry in Aligarh Muslim University at that time. Valia Joychayan was a Scientific Officer in Tata Finlay at that time. He used to come with a heap of peanut-jaggery sweets and lots of cigarettes. He was a chain-smoker at that time. I remember an occasion when I too had a secret trial of cigarette smoking, of course in their company. (Years later he stopped his smoking abruptly following his wife’s instruction. She had brought several packets of cigarettes from Bahrain and told him to smoke all and then stop.)
He was a bachelor then and we were very close to him. He came during weekends, and we were eager about his arrival. He invented stories when he ran out of stock. It was great fun listening to him talk and narrate stories. He had a special art of conversation. There was an inborn teacher and actor in him. He had a literary taste and he composed plays and poems in English. I remember having made chains of the cigarette packets, by cutting small pieces and linking them together. They were either Charminar or Berkley. The number of peanut sweets we consumed those days! Wow! The sweet memory is tinged with nostalgia.
Walking was pleasant on the mud path and the inroads of the estate. It was lovely walking along watching the choola or shola trees and other sights. When I was alone, I used to walk alone on the familiar path. There was a dear home where some loving people lived. Ammachy’s friend and the family lived there. How loving that aunty was! We called her ‘mestri chechy’. Mestri is a carpenter. He was a bachelor, I think. Aunty was married to his younger brother who was working elsewhere. Everybody called her by that name for identification. She laid the table with lots of tasty and mouth-watering delicacies.
I remember her daughter Rani. Years later, we got a shocking piece of news when we heard about a bus accident at the fatal ‘Karadippara’(Bear Rock) which killed our beloved aunty and her daughter Rani. Cheriyachayan’s family was another we frequently visited in the same estate. He was the Writer or Estate Conductor at the lower division, while Appachen was of the upper-division. Cheriyachayan was an eloquent talker and it was interesting to listen to him. Lalitha, Sajan, Renu, Meena, Titto, Gladys and Anita were the children. We used to play with the elder ones. After several years, when we met two of them, Meena and Sajan, we were so happy. Both are in Kottayam. Douglas uncle and Molly aunty lived in their quarters diagonal to Appachen’s. The road in front of their residence led to the Manager’s Bungalow.
The Bungalow was an ethereal place for us—not of this earth—heavenly—that was the feeling we had. There was a church-cum-school down in the valley. It could be seen from the top which is at the southern side of Appachen’s quarters. There was a Tamilian teacher who came to teach me at home when I was preparing for my second standard examination. All my siblings were away in hostels. The teacher was a tall man with a second piece of cloth like a ’kavani’ or ‘neryath’ that he wore over his shirt. Ammachy gave him tea and snacks after the tuition. Of these, my clear memory is of hot steamed ‘puttu’ sprinkled lavishly with sugar on top of it.
A long line of sugary cylindrical delicacy! Even now when I eat ‘Puttu’, I’m nostalgically reminded of it.
Pallivasal was another Estate we frequently visited. That was the nearest estate to Munnar town. Our paternal uncle, who brought Appachen to the Estate life, and his family lived there. Though younger, my sisters Mollychechy and Omanachechy had their companions among Appachen’s cousins there. I had their children as my companions—Motti and Renji. There was a mango tree in the courtyard and we wrote our names on the mangoes. A practical joke they played on me was making me eat a green chilly in the yard. They convinced me that it was not spicy at all. I had a bite—and the burning sensation I had as I ran inside to put some sugar or something sweet in my mouth I still feel.
Muthuswami was my father’s friend. He was extremely fond of us. It was he who modified my country pet name into ‘Kuttice.’ He was an Overseer.
Then Dr.Warren (Remember, he had Englishised his name from his Parameswaran) and his family were living in the neighbourhood. We called his wife ‘Chechy’. Their only daughter was Rajam. We were very close. Chechy gave me a coat and I still remember, the wooden pot Rajam( I call her Kochechy) gave me. I treasured it for a long time. It was in their home that I tasted ‘chutney powder’ for the first time. When it was mixed with the coconut oil, aha, how it tasted with Dosa or Idly. Even now I remember them whenever I use this kind of chutney along with dosa and idli, though never as tasty as theirs was.
Trekking was adventurous. It was not a trend then, as it is now. All the staff and families would join. We would take dried peas, ground nuts, and peanut sweets in containers. We would be accompanied by servants and coolies. We would climb the hill and when we reach the top, food would be cooked over there and would be eaten. Then after resting for a while we would continue walking. It was fantastic! How the stream flowed with a cheerful murmur, the memory is still vivid in me; it was a cool place to rest.
The place still haunts me with a pleasing sensation. Christmas was a specially happy time for us. We had a party at the Manager’s bungalow. We had games and got gifts. People came carol singing. There would be Santa Claus. Once when I was small, I was scared to see Santa Claus in a red costume. I hid under the cot out of fear. Later I came to know that he was Appachen’s friend, a fat jovial person called Kuttappan Uncle.
But I looked forward to ‘Kunnji Raman’s arrival. He was a monkey who was brought by a man who sought alms. The master would give him commands, and Kunji Raman would obey. He would jump, run, scratch his head, and give us ‘salaam’(salute) Oh, it was great fun!
Appachen was fond of watching the drama. Even in later life, he loved the drama better than the movie. Occasionally drama troupes came to the estate from Tamil Nadu. I remember the thrill and excitement we had when we went to watch the drama which was staged on the ground just in front of Appachen’s quarters. One was titled “Veera Pandya Katta Bomman.”
There was much excitement in the air at such festive occasions. When there was sunlight in mid-noon, Ammachy had a habit of airing the mattresses which were damp during the winter. Babu and I used to jump onto the mattresses and lie on them to feel that pleasant warmth of the sun in a cold climate. Before ‘Jumps’ became the fashion among the kids of modern days, we had experienced the fun of it as children. Occasionally, our relatives and cousins from Kottayam visited us. When Ammachy’s younger sister—Chakkare Kochamma—came, it was a festival. She would bring fried jackfruit- chips, dried tapioca, etc. To eat the fried tapioca chips along with coconut slices was simply marvellous.
Ammachy’s brother’s son, Suresh, younger than me, was with us for some days. He was only nine years old at that time. He learned the game of Chess and beat my elder brothers. I too learned the game of Chess and Cards from my brothers. The mulberry trees were a sight to see. They were, in fact, our childhood companions we played with. Babu and I used to sit on top of the mulberry trees and read stories. Occasionally the ripe, plump mulberries would go into our mouths. I made a number of paper boats and floated them when the rains made pools on the ground. I remember the lone path I took leading to the factory and back when I was alone with my parents for one or two years…
I feel sad that Salamma and Premela are no more. I remember how Salammma lovingly treated me at U.C.College hostel years later, when our CMS College Hockey team met theirs at the Inter-collegiate tournament and we had to stay one night there. Premela was my junior in college, and we played Hockey and attended the coaching camps together during the vacation. She stayed at our Puthenangady home then.
Real storytelling took place when our cousin Valia Joychayan(Big Joychayan) came. He was Big Joychayan to us as our own direct eldest brother was the younger Joychayan, who was studying Bio-Chemistry in Aligarh Muslim University at that time. Valia Joychayan was a Scientific Officer in Tata Finlay at that time. He used to come with a heap of peanut-jaggery sweets and lots of cigarettes. He was a chain-smoker at that time. I remember an occasion when I too had a secret trial of cigarette smoking, of course in their company. (Years later he stopped his smoking abruptly following his wife’s instruction. She had brought several packets of cigarettes from Bahrain and told him to smoke all and then stop.)
He was a bachelor then and we were very close to him. He came during weekends, and we were eager about his arrival. He invented stories when he ran out of stock. It was great fun listening to him talk and narrate stories. He had a special art of conversation. There was an inborn teacher and actor in him. He had a literary taste and he composed plays and poems in English. I remember having made chains of the cigarette packets, by cutting small pieces and linking them together. They were either Charminar or Berkley. The number of peanut sweets we consumed those days! Wow! The sweet memory is tinged with nostalgia.
Walking was pleasant on the mud path and the inroads of the estate. It was lovely walking along watching the choola or shola trees and other sights. When I was alone, I used to walk alone on the familiar path. There was a dear home where some loving people lived. Ammachy’s friend and the family lived there. How loving that aunty was! We called her ‘mestri chechy’. Mestri is a carpenter. He was a bachelor, I think. Aunty was married to his younger brother who was working elsewhere. Everybody called her by that name for identification. She laid the table with lots of tasty and mouth-watering delicacies.
I remember her daughter Rani. Years later, we got a shocking piece of news when we heard about a bus accident at the fatal ‘Karadippara’(Bear Rock) which killed our beloved aunty and her daughter Rani. Cheriyachayan’s family was another we frequently visited in the same estate. He was the Writer or Estate Conductor at the lower division, while Appachen was of the upper-division. Cheriyachayan was an eloquent talker and it was interesting to listen to him. Lalitha, Sajan, Renu, Meena, Titto, Gladys and Anita were the children. We used to play with the elder ones. After several years, when we met two of them, Meena and Sajan, we were so happy. Both are in Kottayam. Douglas uncle and Molly aunty lived in their quarters diagonal to Appachen’s. The road in front of their residence led to the Manager’s Bungalow.
The Bungalow was an ethereal place for us—not of this earth—heavenly—that was the feeling we had. There was a church-cum-school down in the valley. It could be seen from the top which is at the southern side of Appachen’s quarters. There was a Tamilian teacher who came to teach me at home when I was preparing for my second standard examination. All my siblings were away in hostels. The teacher was a tall man with a second piece of cloth like a ’kavani’ or ‘neryath’ that he wore over his shirt. Ammachy gave him tea and snacks after the tuition. Of these, my clear memory is of hot steamed ‘puttu’ sprinkled lavishly with sugar on top of it.
A long line of sugary cylindrical delicacy! Even now when I eat ‘Puttu’, I’m nostalgically reminded of it.
Pallivasal was another Estate we frequently visited. That was the nearest estate to Munnar town. Our paternal uncle, who brought Appachen to the Estate life, and his family lived there. Though younger, my sisters Mollychechy and Omanachechy had their companions among Appachen’s cousins there. I had their children as my companions—Motti and Renji. There was a mango tree in the courtyard and we wrote our names on the mangoes. A practical joke they played on me was making me eat a green chilly in the yard. They convinced me that it was not spicy at all. I had a bite—and the burning sensation I had as I ran inside to put some sugar or something sweet in my mouth I still feel.
Muthuswami was my father’s friend. He was extremely fond of us. It was he who modified my country pet name into ‘Kuttice.’ He was an Overseer.
Then Dr.Warren (Remember, he had Englishised his name from his Parameswaran) and his family were living in the neighbourhood. We called his wife ‘Chechy’. Their only daughter was Rajam. We were very close. Chechy gave me a coat and I still remember, the wooden pot Rajam( I call her Kochechy) gave me. I treasured it for a long time. It was in their home that I tasted ‘chutney powder’ for the first time. When it was mixed with the coconut oil, aha, how it tasted with Dosa or Idly. Even now I remember them whenever I use this kind of chutney along with dosa and idli, though never as tasty as theirs was.
Trekking was adventurous. It was not a trend then, as it is now. All the staff and families would join. We would take dried peas, ground nuts, and peanut sweets in containers. We would be accompanied by servants and coolies. We would climb the hill and when we reach the top, food would be cooked over there and would be eaten. Then after resting for a while we would continue walking. It was fantastic! How the stream flowed with a cheerful murmur, the memory is still vivid in me; it was a cool place to rest.
The place still haunts me with a pleasing sensation. Christmas was a specially happy time for us. We had a party at the Manager’s bungalow. We had games and got gifts. People came carol singing. There would be Santa Claus. Once when I was small, I was scared to see Santa Claus in a red costume. I hid under the cot out of fear. Later I came to know that he was Appachen’s friend, a fat jovial person called Kuttappan Uncle.
But I looked forward to ‘Kunnji Raman’s arrival. He was a monkey who was brought by a man who sought alms. The master would give him commands, and Kunji Raman would obey. He would jump, run, scratch his head, and give us ‘salaam’(salute) Oh, it was great fun!
Appachen was fond of watching the drama. Even in later life, he loved the drama better than the movie. Occasionally drama troupes came to the estate from Tamil Nadu. I remember the thrill and excitement we had when we went to watch the drama which was staged on the ground just in front of Appachen’s quarters. One was titled “Veera Pandya Katta Bomman.”
There was much excitement in the air at such festive occasions. When there was sunlight in mid-noon, Ammachy had a habit of airing the mattresses which were damp during the winter. Babu and I used to jump onto the mattresses and lie on them to feel that pleasant warmth of the sun in a cold climate. Before ‘Jumps’ became the fashion among the kids of modern days, we had experienced the fun of it as children. Occasionally, our relatives and cousins from Kottayam visited us. When Ammachy’s younger sister—Chakkare Kochamma—came, it was a festival. She would bring fried jackfruit- chips, dried tapioca, etc. To eat the fried tapioca chips along with coconut slices was simply marvellous.
Ammachy’s brother’s son, Suresh, younger than me, was with us for some days. He was only nine years old at that time. He learned the game of Chess and beat my elder brothers. I too learned the game of Chess and Cards from my brothers. The mulberry trees were a sight to see. They were, in fact, our childhood companions we played with. Babu and I used to sit on top of the mulberry trees and read stories. Occasionally the ripe, plump mulberries would go into our mouths. I made a number of paper boats and floated them when the rains made pools on the ground. I remember the lone path I took leading to the factory and back when I was alone with my parents for one or two years…
(Cont’d)
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