Random memories

Patiamma

Chapter 1: Walking down memory lane

It was a Sunday afternoon. It was cold and snowy in Cincinnati, OH.  We had finished a sumptuous lunch of rice, sambar, potato fry and pappadum. The rest of the household had decided to take a short nap and I, as usual, took a comfortable spot in the couch and started to day dream. My thoughts went through several roller coasters and at some point it slowed down to think about President Obama's trip to India and Nari Shakti. Who would I consider to be the most powerful woman in my life? I started to ponder but did not have to go too far before I had a flash. I knew who that person was. It was my patiamma, my paternal grandmother.

My mind immediately travelled to our ancestral home in Kerala.
Both our parents were born and brought up in Kerala. Our dad's village, Lakshmi Narayana Puram, is one among the nineteen villages in Palghat. There are rows of houses on either sides of the street and at the southern corner is the Naga Subramanyaswami Temple.

The roads were not paved but it was very clean and tranquil. The neighbors were very friendly and inviting. I could walk into anyone's house without prior notice and they would welcome me whole heartedly. Every house hold in the village was happy to see us when we visited.  It seemed like the entire village was one big, happy family.
What a great feeling of belongingness!

Our great grandfather, fondly called Picham paata, worked as a minister to the King. He also played an important role in building the Nagasubramanya swami temple along with the rest of the village. Apparently, he was a very pious person and followed the Hindu rituals very strictly. He was a devotee of Lord Muruga and had a vel (a javelin that signifies power and protection) in our house, to which, he performed puja every day. Our aunt gave away the vel to the temple, before leaving the village to settle down in the city with her daughter.

Picham Paata was a very affectionate man. My dad was very close to his grandfather. Since my dad was just a little boy when his dad passed away, he was brought up by his grandfather. When dad was old enough to leave the village, his grandfather tried to find him a job as a post man, in the village, so that he could stay close to him. Picham Paata's kanakabishekam (90th birthday) was celebrated in a very grand manner. The entire village seemed to have assembled to celebrate the occasion. Our cousin, Late Raju Athan, remembered having attended the ceremony, as a little boy.

Chapter 2:  The House

Now, my memory raced back to the house itself. We could see the back end of the house from the entrance. We had to climb a few step to get to the entrance door. On the left side was a room that belonged to my uncle Ramudu periappa. We did not go there very often. There was a large room on the right which had a huge swing. That was my most favorite spot. I would sit on the swing and ask everyone to push me. It was a large, heavy plank held by four thick chains. There was a small barn sort of room where rice and snacks would be stored, right behind the swing. The large room was also where we would all gather for our meals and eat together. The kitchen was right next to that room. It was small. The doors all over the house were heavy. The cowshed was on the back end of the house and so were the bathrooms. There was also a room upstairs and the attic where the raccoons visited. We had a lot of fun in the room upstairs. The stairs were narrow and made out of wood. It would screech while going up and down so we had to tip toe in the afternoons when my uncle was taking a nap. Uncle got irritated easily and we were scared that he would yell at us if we disturbed his nap.

Mention of the bathroom reminds me of an incident that I never forget.  I was having a shower and saw a snake slither out from behind the large tub used to store water. It scared the heck out of me. I was literally speechless but I also realized that if you let them be, they go away. There was a well right outside the bathroom. There was also the holy basil (tulsi) in the backyard. It was watered and prayed to everyday as a tradition.