When an untouchable, touched my tender heart

(from the collection of childhood memories, in my grandparents’ house in Kerala)

All my 7 years were sprawled on Ammachi’s (grand mother’s) kitchen floor as I watched her cooking busily. My white summery petticoat (slip worn by young girls) was changing colours every moment as I was doing errands for Ammachi . The kitchen was a huge room.  On one corner of the room was the hearth where the ceiling was a little low and slanting. On the ceiling was the rustic chimney which breathed out the large volume of smoke which emanated from burning wood. Right below the chimney was the Kalladuppu (the stone cooking place) and on it sat the heavy Urulli (wide bell metal vessel) brewing payasam.

The aroma of the payasam was all over the kitchen and from time to time Ammachi stirred it tasting it with a large wooden ladle.  She put some black jaggery into the Uruli saving a wee bit. Then crossed over to me and said here – pushing the remaining into my mouth. Mmm it tasted lovely and melted into my mouth.

Ammachi let us climb up the Tattumpurath (a small storage space built within the kitchen on a height which covered the entire kitchen except the hearth), I insisted. I was longing to climb the wooden stairs (leading to the Tattumpurath) inside the kitchen to explore where the wood for cooking was stored and unripe bananas were kept for ripening. My brother had several adventures with my young uncles climbing up and down the Tattumpurath but Appachan (grandfather) had forbidden this activity for me -his precious . During my last summer holidays Ammachi had promised me that she will let me do it in the forthcoming visit as I would be a big girl then. But that day she said No dear your dress will go all black and remember you have a special day ahead today and smiled.

I did not insist because I had an even greater treat in store that day. Appachan had agreed that my two aunts (mom’s young unmarried sisters) would take me for my first dip in the brook near our village home. There was still some time for my aunts to come back from school. Mom and dad had gone to the town for the day to visit some friends. Appachan and Ammachi insisted that I and my brother should stay home as they had not had enough of their pets.

For me the  treat for staying home was the first dip in the brook nearby. Numerous times I had stood on the edge of the brook and watched my aunts jump in one after the other and swim like a fish. I loved it when both would draw water from the well and bathe me, while I sat on the big black stone which was used to wash clothes.  But now I was a big girl and I wanted to experience the brook adventure with them. I had heard scary tales of little fish biting your feet while in the brook, but nobody seemed to mind it.

Seemon Maria (called Maria), Ammachi’s help was busy cutting wood just outside the kitchen and my job was to get some from her time to time into the kitchen. Maria never entered the kitchen and Ammachi used to put her food in a wooden bowl and pass it over to her. Maria would sit outside and hungrily finish all the food, wash her bowl and then keep into the kitchen steps for Ammachi to pick up.  All of Maria’s work was outside the kitchen.

Mom always used to tell me to stay away from Maria and I had been spanked once or twice for being disobedient but Ammachi was indulgent. She knew I loved my jaunts with Maria. Maria would take me to the behind of the house on the elevated field where huge numbers of banana trees were planted. She would know exactly which bunch to cut and would deftly cut it and carry it in her hand. I would accompany, skipping behind her. If Mom was not around, she would take me to the little kitchen garden near the well of the house. I would help her to dig out the yam from underground or pluck red cheera (leafy vegetables) and sometimes as a special treat she would take me to the edge of the brook near our house to show me the youth and young girls and boys swimming in it. However, she would never let me go near or give into my requests for taking me in for a swim.

Maria was a lovely chocolate in colour with flawless skin. She was plump and very motherly. She would tell me tales of nearby trees with ghosts on them. All the ghosts would always be hungry visiting the fruit trees for food.

Seeing me restless Ammachi called out to Maria asking her to take me to the border wall of the house to see if my aunts were visible anywhere in the vicinity. Maria and I went and stood near the mud wall, the divide between the one-legged Maria chhedathi’s(elder sister – as Ammachi addressed her ) house next door and ours . We stood there waiting to get a glimpse of my aunt’s coming back from school. They were nowhere in sight, so we turned back to the kitchen disappointed towards the kitchen. Just as we turned around, I heard two voices in unison screaming – Jeena Mani!

Maria and I both turned to see my two Aunts running towards the mud divide. Clad in half sarees and colored long skirts, I remember vividly that they were both barefooted as was the practice in those times. I hugged them both eagerly as they offered me some toffees which they had picked up on the way.

My heart warms up even today as I think of how they saved their small pocket money to buy sweets for me. Being the youngest and that too a grandchild was wonderful. We were completely spoilt in Kerala and then disciplined when back in Delhi.

Both Aunts Lily (elder) and Shanta (short for Shantamma – the younger one) each held one hand of mine to pick me up and make me cross the mud divide. It was so lovely being with them. They used to embroider pretty handkerchiefs and I had at least three with little flowers and my name written on them.

Ammachi scolded them for walking back slowly and pointing to me said – My little flower was wilting away waiting for you two. Go and change, have food and take her to the brook before her mother comes and makes a fuss. Maria, called out Ammachi, accompany them as I want Jeena Mani to be safe.

When my aunts had gone, Ammachi called me to the other corner of the kitchen where a big wooden box was kept, close to the steps leading to the Tattum Purath. This wooden box was our tuck box and a big secret only known to me and Ammachi.

She closed the door of the kitchen leading to the rooms and opened the wooden box. Buried deep inside the whole volume of rice was a small packet of bread. I loved the bread in Kerala during those times. It was so different from Delhi. It was sweetened and used to be the special treat which Appachan brought home when he came back from his printing press. He would hand it over to Ammachi and say there is enough only for these two children so make sure you hide and keep it. Eat fast,

Ammachi encouraged me to finish all the bread saying , you will need all the energy for going into the water. And obey your Aunt’s. There will be little fish and they will nip your feet now and then but don’t be scared. I would have taken you, but I need to make the Appam’s to go with the payasam, pointing to the huge banana leaves which Maria had brought in from the banana plantains.

Both my aunts came in faded long skirts and blouses and beckoned to me. Maria with her eyes twinkling suddenly announced – let us give this girl a treat. She said to my aunt’s – You go through the short cut, crossing the well and I will bring her from the pepper and clove field on the Arecanut palm.

Now Arecanut palms (called palla in malayalam) were huge and as children we were made to sit on it while another person would drag it . The seeds of the Arecanut berries were chewed along with betel leaf in Kerala as they acted as a mouth freshener.

My Aunts and uncles often used to play little tricks on us and to stop us from crying and complaining, used to console us by making us sit on the palm and pulling it themselves around the house. Our cry’s would soon turn into squeals of delight with the amazing experience and by the time you finished with it your bums would have red marks. This was because the ground near the house was not pavemented but rather rustically covered with tiniest of pebbles. It was tough to pull on the mud (with tiny pebbles) but childhood describes toil as play.

My Aunts skipped to the nearby brook, passing the well while Maria brought the palm from the washing place , just outside the kitchen . Behind the tap of the washing place Maria stored all her goodies , her big knife (called Vakkati) to cut bananas , her axe to cut firewood and the palm leaves . She sometimes kept her little podhi (rice and pickle wrapped in banana leaf and paper) which she brought from home . In Kerala podhi is also commonly refereed to any goodies wrapped in paper.

Maria took the spotless white thin towel on her shoulders and wiped the palm clean and beckoned to me – come on dear. Ammachi watched me squealing with delight as Maria pulled the palm over her shoulders while I sat on it. I can still visualize her eyes brimming with love and delight as if her plate of happiness was full for the day.

Hold on tight to the stem cried Maria as she ran through the pepper plants towards the brook. The smell of the pepper was very heady, and it made me sneeze. It seemed a long but wonderful ride as I ducked plants and trees on the side. I was being taken through Appachan’s little fiefdom on a cart and I turned my head to the left and to the the right to admire the small and tall trees , plants and the leaves in different shades of green . The myriad of colours in different shades of green still reflect in my eyes as over time I had assimilated them into my being . Maria never stopped till we reached her destination and today I realize how tough it would have been for the middle-aged lady.

Ah here we are – she panted and stopped and threw herself to the ground resting on the grass. I jumped off the palm and gave her a hug and a peck on her cheeks for the wonderful experience and she smiled showing of her pearly white teeth set in the chocolate frame of her face.

It was the longest and the most loving ride on the palm that I ever had, and it was just out of sheer love not as a consolation for something. There was more fun in store for the day, I thought as I saw the huge expanse of the brook. On the far end of the other side were rice plantations in beautiful leaf green color waving out to me. My aunts were already in the waters………………….

Chapter 5

C’mon C’mon jump we will catch you they cried in glee . Children and teens of nearby houses were all there . I can’t I resisted and they laughed and swam around pulling each other’s leg under water. The waters were quite deep and all who came jumped into it . There were no steps or anything to lead into the waters – you had to jump in. I stood petrified next to Maria and refused to jump in.

I could not trust my Aunt’s like my dad . Two summers back when we had gone to my dad’s hometown in Pallai district of Kerala, all the rice fields in front of his house was flooded with water . We had just arrived and he got tempted and without giving an extra thought ,  removed his trousers and shirt and jumped into the water from a great height. He would have done this innumerable times in his childhood . Me and my brother screamed at being left behind. In response he popped up like a fish , lifted himself over the mud wall and stood facing us .

Come he said , picking me up with one hand and my brother (2 years older to me ) with another, tucked us  under his two arms  and much to my mother’s horror jumped from the great height . He paddled in perfect balance with both of us hanging on to one shoulder each  , one under each arm paddled with his legs keeping a perfect balance . My mother was screaming above in fright but dad knew what he was doing .

Many years later  dad (in his late 50s) stunned us again while we had gone for a boat ride in Badkal lake, haryana.  The bank of the lake was nowhere in sight when he suddenly took off his clothes and jumped in to the waters and vanished. Like a fish he swum underwater and surfaced near the bank with the grace of a dolphin. Needless to say my mom gave him a piece of her mind later for worrying her. I was in awe of him.

Back here near the brook my Aunts were having a roaring time beckoning to me now and then but never came out to get me . They were doing cartwheels and all kinds of tricks . Seeing me sad , finally  Maria called out to them and said , listen girls come closer and I will hand her over to you and you can gently take her by one hand each,  or put  her on one of you backs. Maria picked me up facing her and gently handed me over to my two aunts .

Chapter 6

The touch of the water turned fear into excitement. I rode on each of my Aunt’s back and then they went underwater together lifting me up above it . What fun! Maria sat on the grass and watched us happily.  Then they decided that I should learn how to be in the waters on my own. So both held me by my armpits and tried to make me paddle and stand in the waters .

That was when I started feeling little nips on my feet. I cried and cribbed but it was fun time for my aunts who said – you have to get used to this . No , no I kept crying and Maria kept calling out to them to hand me over . Both the aunt’s were enjoying the fun and didn’t take me seriously. Tired and scared of the nips I screamed “Appacha” and that did the trick . They looked around and asked where ? I gathered courage and said I will tell him you troubled me . They laughed but realised that they may not get away with this . Finally they lifted me and handed  over to Maria .

Maria sat on the ground and took me into her lap inspecting my legs and feet for any prominent fish bites . Don’t worry she said  it is okay now. We will tell Appachan about these two naughty girls. Come we will go home and she announced the same to my Aunts. Although I was used to being wet and walking in mud, slush and paddy fields , I was uncomfortable that day with the fright of the fish nipping at my feet.

Slowly we walked through the fields, the plants , shrubs and the berry trees on the muddy  ground . Suddenly the rains started, and I tripped on a stone and fell down. Oh my baby cried Maria and picked me up. I had a small cut on my right foot . Without thinking for a moment Maria tore a small piece of her Mundu (lungi in hindi) from the bottom and deftly tied it around my ankle. The Mundu which women wore were not hemmed those days and so it could easily be torn. Then she picked me up and sat me on her waist and started walking  steadily back to the house. Near our house well she made me sit on my bath seat (the big black stone). Two minutes later she came with some leaves, made a rough paste and rubbed it on my small insignificant bruises on the leg.  It was drizzling and with the fall I was all covered with mud .

Chapter 7

Let me give you a bath and make you pretty again for your mother said  Maria . She then went to the well and started drawing water to fill the chembupatram (a huge aluminium vessel which could store water for a bath) sitting on the ground. She nicely scrubbed me from top to bottom with soap and then poured volumes of water . When she was nearly done Ammachi came out and said , hurry up her mother will come anytime . Maria when satisfied that I was spotlessly clean took the towel from her shoulders and started rubbing my head to dry my hair .

Suddenly a familiar voice screamed out – what is going here and my mother came running to the well. She caught my hand, pulled me off the stone and started dragging me to the kitchen. Why were you giving her a bath and using your dirty towel on her murmered mom as she walked without looking back?

In the kitchen mom sternly addressed Ammachi saying  how can you let Maria bathe my child and she was using her towel to wipe her – I wont stand this. She is a peleyar (the lowest caste)woman. Stop shouting Ammachi retorted in a more controlled voice – that poor lady will hear . She does so many things for your girl who in turn adores her . Ok then replied mom , I am going back to Delhi tomorrow if you don’t forbid her from coming in till , I am here . Or I will take my children and go to my husband’s place. Ammachi heaved a big sigh and turned silent . I peeped out of the kitchen and saw Maria sitting sadly near the well and my heart broke. My best playmate was sad and I was not going to forgive my mother for this  .

Just before dinner we used to have the rosary outside  the verandah near to the kitchen . Appachan sat on the far end of the L shape verandah outside his room in his big arm chair and none of the children ventured near there. I used to time and again jump from this corner of the house to the other to sit in Appachans lap. My mom had a big family – 4 brothers and 3 sisters. She was the only one married, so it was great fun. In between the rosary Ammachi would glare and chide her children to pray with more devotion. One or the other would pull my hair or pinch me or recite loudly into my ears . This would break the train of rosary and they would have a break. Just before the rosary ,  I decided I had a score to settle with my mom and went and perched on Appachan’s lap that evening.

Chapter 8

Appacha I sobbed and then sobbed even louder. Appacha , Maria is my best friend and I really enjoyed with her . And Mummy made her cry. Annnh haan! Appachan made a throaty sound , she made my Muttu (pearl) cry . I will teach her a lesson. Thankamma (my mom’s name) he roared and all the children were immediately on guard and . Come here he commanded and mom walked in closely and stood behind a pillar. Listen he said I don’t want my grandchildren to shed a single tear when they are here and why did you scream at Maria ? She loves this child and waits for her to come every year.

The whole day she looks after her while you go to meet your cousins . I am warning you that you will not make my Jeena Mani cry and I looked up gloating over my mom. You can do what you want in Delhi- continued Appachan . No No Appachan she will hit me there  I interrupted . Ok Ok said Appachan if you scold her in Delhi I will catch the first train and bring my child back. She will study here and when she grows up manage my printing press. Mom glared at me and the look in Malayalam said – Vaicchitu onda (a commonly used phrase meaning I have something in store for you) .

That day , I remained in Appachan’s safe lap during the rosary , keeping an even safer distance from my mom. There was lots of fun going on at the other end of the house where the whole family was reciting the rosary in a chaotic manner. But I decided to play safe .

Chapter 9

That night I slept with Ammachi and told her tales of how mummy used to pinch and spank us . Don’t worry we will pray to Saint Maria Goretti to give mummy some wisdom and patience . Sadly Maria Goretti never heard that prayer cause I remember till my school time mom used to pinch me.  Her favourite weapon was a combination of her thumb and index finger and she could use it to pinch in varying degrees of sensitivity  depending on the crime committed.

The next day when I got up I went to the kitchen and hugged Ammachi from behind and asked he in sign language where Maria was . She has gone to draw some water from the well, Ammachi said. And you mother has gone to my sisters place so Maria is all yours for the day. I jumped in delight and ran and hugged Maria from behind. She picked me up and said let us go for a long walk into the field and we will cut a big jackfruit for you. Ammachi said she wants to make delicious jackfruit chips for you.

By the time Appahan came back from the press, I was tired and was sitting on his chair waiting for him. His eyes lighted when saw me, came close, kissed me and handed me a podhi. Wow! Ettaka Appam (banana fritters), I screamed. Share with your Maria too he added. Just as I turned to go, he said wait, and handed me a packet. I looked at him enquiringly and he picked me up, kissed me once more and said – this is for your Maria, the one who looks after my little treasure. She will love, it if you give this to her.

Inside the packet was a blue check mundu (drape used for lower part of the body) and a white Chatta (blouse). I ran with it to the kitchen side and almost climbed over Maria who was sitting at the washing place drying utensils. I handed over the packet to her and beckoned her to open it. My lovely Maria opened it and tears welled up in her eyes. She grouped all the fingers of her right hand together and touched my face and then brought it to her mouth in a kiss and said – ende kocchu chakkare (my little piece of jaggery)!

Maria passed away many years later, but she will live in my heart till I am laid to rest. She touched my heart the way no one ever did.