Musings From The Past...the Sendayan Household

MUSINGS FROM THE PAST…the Sendayan Household From

the main road, it took a good twenty minutes of casual walk up a laterite dirt road to get the first glimpse of any semblance of activity. Littered on both sides of the laterite road were neatly arranged rubber trees. Beneath these trees grew thick grass and in some places it was knee-length. Here and there, dry branches from these trees hung precariously. Almost all the trees had the slanting cut marks and most of them had the familiar cups ; on some trees these cups were hung upside down. While the rubber trees appeared similar they were distinguishable in a way because some were dotted with white spots and several others with black ones. Some trees had green foliage abundantly growing above and some barren, exposing the sky and the racing clouds above . Scattered among them, were also trees with leaves turning brown and at the verge of falling down. With each slight gust of even a tame, humble breeze these leaves came down in large numbers and covered the laterite path, particularly at its fringes.

For the most part of the year,

the laterite road was dry and loose earth covered it. The road was sure to scoff up enough orange-hue and sand onto your shirt if a carelessly driven car passed by. The situation would be even more distasteful and colorful after a heavy rain as this road was bound to smear its users with an orange hue. Imagine, this was the only access road to the main road for the residents at Sendayan Estate. It was lonely, unlighted and lengthy. Walking along it alone, particularly in the dawn and nightfall, could be frighteningly perilous.

As you ambled along,

a certain calmness succumbs you. The cool breeze, the chirping of the birds, the sound of crickets faraway , the smell of cow-dung as it dried-up, the occasional sight of jungle fowl crossing your path at neck-breaking speed, the smell of freshly cut grass at the fringes of the road and most importantly the loneliness of walking overpower you. You are lulled into a sleepy daze. Your busy mind with its endless stream of thoughts is subdued by the external rustling of leaves and the sound of water lapping somewhere nearby – probably from a stream. Intuitively you want the walk to end fast as you endure muscle fatigue and yet within you there remains a yearning for it to continue a bit more-so that you are not robbed of the rustic experience abruptly……you just want to remain basked in the serenity, simplicity and the plethora of nature’s endowment all around you.

Loose leaves fell as you walked

by, as if confetti was falling from the heaven. Just about a 100 meters or so from the main road a check-post beckons you; and at most times the long pole across the road remained drawn up. And on the right, you cannot miss the small office – and not to forget a scrawny looking, dark man in

shorts with no teeth looking at you with utmost disinterest and asking where you were heading. Looking at him, I have often wondered if he was human or from the nether worlds above. If you were travelling in a car a small token was paid and a ticket given as acknowledgement.

On both sides of this laterite path,

beetles could be heard and the towering rubber trees canopying above provided shelter from the beaming sunrays particularly during mid-morning and afternoon. Occasionally, someone passed by, mostly cycling. The bicycles often had large carriers at the back and wherefrom hung two huge buckets, one on each side. Puffing and straining up the slope these passersby were heading to the latex-factory. “ Avaralam getah store nu pohnu. Aveedai kerani pallulu degree ittu nokum” my mother remarked as she took a puff or two from her Ventolin asthma inhaler. The dust was not kind to her asthmatic condition. Despite their tired faces these cyclists were friendly. Some even nodded in approval and smiled as they cycled past us. Soon we learned that they were also the messengers – they inform the others of our coming well in advance. It was a sight to see that the young ones were adept at cycling. They used bicycles that were just too big for their sizes. The younger ones with their short frames would not sit on the seats of the bicycles. They would insert one leg in between the triangular frame of the bicycle and then pedal along mimicking sounds as though their bicycles were motorized –“Brrm.brrm ..brrrrrr” Of course, for want of attention from us the sound of “Brrrm..ing “ got louder as they passed by close to us especially me. These manual form of locomotion equated with our present era motorcycles at that time. You own one and your esteem was up in the eyes of the residents here.

Walk and walk

and suddenly in front, the trees are no longer there. Instead an open ground – the area where movies were shown on raised white screen – greet you and then a row of houses. These houses were all lined up on the right as you walked past. Far ahead, you cannot help missing the sprawling field with fixed goal-posts. The area in front of these posts was barren and sandy indicating football was a passionate game there- I believe an Argentian fervor and reverence for the game existed for the game then- inter-estate games attracted huge crowds . On the left a huge structure of a building with shimmering chimneys and tractors littered around it also could not be missed. And just in front of that, was of course, the sundry shop belonging to one Kunju (a Keralite)– the colourful soft-drink bottles and rows of cigarettes (with Brand names like Captain, Craven-A, Torchlight etc) tickle the eyes…fragrance of thosai and fresh vethalai filled the air. Rendition of Tamil songs emanated from therein. A small slope and finally you are there – your destination is reached………

“Amma, Elaimma, Elaiacha vannu..”.

These words came from a figure, bent-over and diligently washing the buckets used to bring latex. Besides that lied the rubber tapping knives waiting to be washed too. With the skin darkened by the sunlight and hands roughened by the hard work and the hair sprawling carelessly across one side of the head the figure was that of a dynamic female who did not

comprehend what “taking a break” meant. “Yenthadi Sarasi nethilu pottu ittilai ” my father would ask and her reply would be “Yenthenu ellaiacha,veylayku pongumpol..athu veinda”. This simplicity and total disregard for dressing-up remained steadfastly in her throughout. In the later years, as she rushed her two daughters for their dance class she displayed the same disregard; often only draped carelessly in a saree and a simple blouse. But one thing she did really possess in abundance-the robustness and emboldened grit. I am yet to witness anyone else in our family with that kind of robustness and hardiness. My father would remark in envy “Avalu annayethu jeynichirakanam.” That robustness, friendly gait, boundless love, pristine simplicity , overpowering exuberance and steel-forged intent in achieving what she wanted permeated her entire frame – from the head to her toe ! And my father surely loved her and his pet name for her was “Sarasi”. That name remained recognizable in him despite his failing memory (from multi-infarct dementia)-so imagine how much of an impression it must had on him. He could not remember and recognize his own wife’s name at that time but that of “Sarasi” always lit a quick smile on his lips.

Now talking about the house….the

house was nothing much to boast about. The wall was part plank and was curtained all around by a cemented waisthigh wall. Inside, there was a kitchen, a bath area, two rooms readied with raised platforms covered with straw-mats that acted as the bed and an extension outside with a long stool . The kitchen had stoves that used rubber tree as fire-wood and hence the wall was darkened by the smoke. Somewhere nearby hung a glistening gaslight (the only source of light then). All in all it was a rudimentary house with the gross absence of present day paraphernalia such as ACs, washing machine, TVs, dishwashers, telephone etc. Notably, was the absence of any form of modern-day dressing table replete with the usual array of lipstick, facial-cream, Hazeline snow and the like. At the most you could find a mirror hanging on the wall with a few combs beside and a tin of Cuticura facial powder and a circular coconut shell with glistening hardened black pottu – you apply a bit of water then the paste is used as the pottu those days. Despite the sheer absence of these beautifying agents the girls of the Sendayan household were stunningly beautiful – typical of our Malayalee clan and kith. And the boys handsome and macho. Anyhow self-enhancement of their looks was not foremost on their agenda then – their priorities were different…

At nightfall, you could see the stars from holes on the roof and during heavy rain water was collected dripping from these holes in buckets . It was quite a scene thenboth fun and pathetic. Simplicity and sheer rustic veneer permeated the entire house. Imagine this abode housed all the kids of Valliamma and Valliacha. The house was the study-room, the prayer-room, the dining-room, the visitors’ hall and playroom for the residents therein. Yet despite all these constraints, sublime love permeated the inside and together with that the burgeoning quest to break away from the shackles of spartan estate life. It was not easy to bring up the girls in such an environment. Catcalls, whistles, heckling and unsolicited love letters must have been sure harassment

for them. Yet, each female of this household walked steadfast, unimpeded by such obstacles to move forth ...mind you without an iota of stain on their character . From Sarasi edathi through Komalam edathi and I think Suseela all could use the tapping knive to tap rubber – with such deftness and clinical precision so that the trees remained uninjured throughout the onslaught upon them. And that was an art not easy to master. The siblings were bound together, thirsting for knowledge and growth. Attending schools faraway in the town and having to endure the long walk on the laterite road , sometimes also getting wet in the rain and dew – all these drudgery surely psyched them into a resolute intent to break away from the shackles of estate life. Education and friends acted continuously to forge this mere thought into ironclad determination. Beneath the simplicity, hardship and mundane facade of the household, there was an ever-burgeoning bowl of fire growing in intensity and awaiting for the opportune time to gush out and illumine their lives…. Their parents prayers and Vallaicha’s emphasis on the essence of good education acted as the catalyst..hastening and feeding the fire to grow bigger and bigger…

The must awaited time came soon…the

first child to take her springboard leap was Kalyani edathi. Armed with her Senior Cambridge Certificate (probably she was the only girl in the whole estate to have such a qualification then) she chose the path of Florence Nightingale and started her nursing training, I believe, at Johor Baru. Valliacha’s emphasis on the importance of education and his daily rendition of the Malayalam slogams extolling it did not go to waste after all ! Here, in the form of Kalyani edathi, it was turning into fruition and reality. That stocky figure’s gait and vigour was rejuvenated. Valliacha was on his heightened state of happiness – renewed zest and hope overpowered him and he knew Kalyani edathi as the torchbearer would keep his dreams alive. “Kalyani pollai mon padikanam” he would say to me each time he met me. To be honest, she has been an inspiration for me – it was not easy getting through the Senior Cambridge examination then-though jealous of my father presenting her with a Parker-45 fountain pen ( a much-coveted possession then) and pleasing me with a meagerly priced Hero fountain pen (made in China). Of course, she deserved it more. And that thin, fair-skinned, coy , tall girl of his did not let him down. Kalyani edathi , as I recollect, was a soft and shy person with nothing much to talk about. She spoke when spoken too and was very careful as to what she spoke about. Despite her easy-looking gait and simplicity she had boundless energy and sternness about her. She was intelligent, selective in choosing friends, thrifty and would not like wasting her time. It was a heavy burden that she was carrying on her shoulders – to bring the family forth from the sleepy hollow of Sendayan estate. Their growth was fostered by Valliacha’s almost daily slogams in Malayalam extolling the significance of knowledge acquisition and yet remaining simple in life. This is something we parents fail to do these days. Of course , I too use to get a dose or two of Valliacha’s Malayalam slogams which then appeared absurd to me . I didn’t understand the high level of his language actually…..but somehow it must have permeated my lazy brain too.

While Sarasi edathi gave her strength and physical energy to the household, Kalyani edathi gave direction and effect to her siblings’ future. Sometimes, I wish I had been one of the siblings . Both were equally matched and loved one another dearly. Though unexpressed, I can sense Kalyani edathi’s uneasiness and loss with Sarasi edathi not being around. That is almost inevitable considering the bond they had for each other. Kalyani edathi was soon consulted for every decision in the household – Vallaicha had delegated his authority to her- his crowning glory and apple in the eye.

Now coming back to the Sendayan house

…from the dark inside of the two -room house, another familiar voice is an almost certain response : “Varum..Vadi Nanikutty..kutiyol yevadai..” These two voices are almost there everytime. The voices just don’t reverberate they just embrace you with love and serenity of the purest form. Sometimes, Sarasi edathi and Valiamma may have just come back from their work in the midst of the estate but the hugs and caresses hid the odour of sweat and grime. Being young and being brought up without any siblings I found that embrace, love and attention over-powering. Valiamma’s fingers would run through my thick curly hair and edathi would blurt out “Dai enthengalum unda Mathava?”.

Soon Valiamma would blurt out

instructions such as : “ Narayana achanei poi vilichitu va” and “Sarasi adapulu velum veiku cahaiya kuttan” and “Rukumani yavadei Unni checkan poi ?”. Such was Valiamma’s love for the others and to honour the guests and shower them with attention has always been the unwritten rule in her household. It lasted her lifetime and even when she was in the house at Blossom Heights Seremban, she would ask “Chaiya kudichada Mathava. Nenda peyru toosamam jebikumbol parayum.Innu enda mon vannudah yennai kanam.” With these word she is bound to draw me close and shower a kiss or two – that happens without fail. Just like Valliamm, Edathi too had that deeply entrenched in her. She doesn’t walk but it is half walk and half run like the Japanese. This pair are no longer there but they shared one thing in common – hospitality and love.

Ambling slowly, Valliacha would come with a cloth wound around his head and wearing thick glasses. “Aipol vannu…chaiya kudicha..adiaya chaiya kodutha..”All these words would go in a breath as he washed his feet. Then of course, the familiar smile brightens on his face and his favourite tap on my shoulders would follow. The next thing he would have taken me to the pooja room. Sitting there he would explain to me about the conch that Meenakshi amma gave and the importance of studying hard. Now and then he will look at my ears and blurt out “Nani..ivannu kathu kuthidillai ? Yenta nenaku kathu keykunno..yilla nenda edathipol chekudi ayo?”. “Adi Nani ettan villikunnu ..vaiyum poika..elacha a manasan neyalvillukum”,would be Valliama’s prompting to my mother. She would come in and

say that my ears have not been pierced yet. He would then unapprovingly say “Athu cherri apol avan Tulugan akiyo ? Guruvayuril keytrula arayo ?”

Valliamma would then touch my mother’s saree

and hair and inquire about them. My mother had a great sense of dressing, sporting colourful sarees and hair-clips and being the youngest she was the envy of her older siblings. Somehow, without fail my parents would inquire of how Gopal was and what he was doing. I have met this Gopal only once and I understand that he was brought up by Vallaicha and Valliamma at one time.

The Sendayan household,

has remained, a model and a bench-mark for hardwork and most importantly simplicity and respect. Simplicity and respect ruled each one over there. The warmth, love and respect was the product of two personalities –one that of Valliamaa a simpleton who hardly would ever raise her voice against anyone and Vallaicha a God-loving man with devotion, love and exemplary truthfulness. Most importantly, the love and warmth was shared and allowed to percolate into the souls of each one who came near them. It was infectious in a way and you would hunger for more..difficult to explain but this is a certainty. You leave the household each time feeling that you have left behind a part of you. At least that’s how I felt and my parents felt the same way too. The experience, like the taste of good mango remaining in your mouth, would linger in you for a week or so. Good values, sweet speech and respect for the elders were the gifts from Valliamma and Vallaicha to the family. The kids displayed this well and my father would say their loving words would take the labour pains away from a lady due for childbirth. The words were soothing and overpowering. Let these gifts be guarded well for no books can teach you these…..acquisition of degrees is for your economic uplifting only but good character and values make you an immortal in the hearts of others. One without the other is meaningless.

As for filial piety and selflessness,

Sarasi edathi prevails head and shoulders from the rest in the family. And finally Kalyani edathi’s simplicity and humility after having engineered and designed the path for her siblings to follow are remarkable. Her brave stance in facing the stark onslaughts of life and yet recoiling into a quiet corner inconspicuously are sterling qualities to be cherished and emulated. In these days of boastfulness, pomp and empty fire-cracking at the slightest achievement, her simplicity stands out boldly and radiantly. She doesn’t require the propped-up banners extolling her greatness – we know you edathi and know you well too. Grappling with the psychiatric patients at Tanjung Rambutan hospital and tutoring half-hearted nurses at the University Hospital all along definitely wasn’t easy.

For the Sendayan household, I stand up in ovation with sincere thoughts for your continued well-being and progress. Please do not ever let your minds forget the 4 pillars of strength that had held you together through triumph, pain and adversities. I am proud to be your cousin and too have been blessed to cross the paths

of the 4 personalities in my lifetime. Well done and let the young ones know adversity is a progress-stimulant and not at all a deterrent. The Sendayan family is the living testimony to this fact ! (My apologies if I have offended anyone from the household or misstated any fact with the above writing...)