A trip down memory lane

A conversation with dear Kaushik at the dinner table brought back some fond nostalgic memories of my summer at my grandparents place in Vilakkudi.

Some of the narrations here brought a floodgate of memories. Though some of these memories were splotchy, most of them were very vivid, and I was very happy to remember a few and immediately jotted them in before they became a forgotten chapter in my brain.

The trip to Vilakkudi with amma and appa during the summer holidays meant anticipation towards an exciting train journey, oodles of fun and the wonderful things that awaited after reaching my village.

The long, steam locomotive, would chug all night, and the next day saw me wide awake at the early crack of dawn.. I would peep through the barred windows of the train and see endless black smoke coming out from the front chimney of the train to its far rear end. It was a beautiful sight to see especially when the train curved to make a turn, with green paddy fields, bullock carts, and hardworking farmers bending to tend to their yearly crops.

The train would rumble, choo-choo and chug along bridges and tunnels making strange rhythmic sounds on the tracks all along the journey. It would come to a brief halt at the Thiruthiraipoondi Junction and a ensuing ride on the bullock cart would evoke fun and surprises to what lied ahead further in our journey to Thata Paati's place.

Thatha- Paati’s home welcomed us with antiquated wooden pillars and a sun-lit atrium with water gleaming from huge bronze containers. How could I forget the old musky smell that came from the rooms that had been home to many bats fluttering their wings endlessly to find a good spot to hang upside down? We would place our bags and other luggage, and a look in the mirror would reflect black soot on our face that came from the train's smoke. After exchanging a few pleasantries, and some refreshments with freshly brewed coffee and hot milk (with sugar, which I do not like, but somehow, it ends up in my cup due to forgetfulness!) a good bath awaits; hot water heated from the wood-burning stove, that soothed even the tiniest of muscles, in every corner of the body. Talk about a good spa treatment in a village!

While the big meal for the day is being prepared, we would walk in the barnyard which had paati's favorite cow, Lakshmi. Paati would feed her bananas and thavidu and Lakshmi would lap it all up with her big black tongue. Somehow, I lacked the courage to feed her, and I would eventually end up dropping the hay bundle on the floor, instead of Lakshmi's mouth.

My reminiscent images of my trip include thatha’s stentorian voice giving agrarian orders to Nathaiyan, a local farmer.

During a quick stroll on the narrow street, I would gather a lot of red and black beads called kundhumani and also blow tiny bubbles with a safety pin borrowed from amma or paati, from the sap of the leaves of a small vine that grew prolifically on the fence.

Playtime would be interrupted with a sumptuous meal cooked from locally grown produce on the wood burning stove that brought a burst of flavor to even the remote taste buds. I remember paati's thiratupaal and Vendanga sambar which stroked a tasty palette. The meal would bring in an afternoon siesta on the huge oonjal which made interesting squeaky and creaky noises each time. Soon everyone would snooze in for a half hour nap and awake to crisp batchanams, and freshly brewed coffee with creamy cow's milk ! Lakshmi's, I presume!!! Ahhhh...Mmmmmmm!

A visit to the family temple perumal, Kasturi Rangan and his divine consort, just at the corner of the street, is a absolute bliss that adds up to this wonderful trip. The evening would also bring in meeting with the locals, and then a walk around the village, the small water kulam/pond with the nellikkai tree on the banks that bore big fruits, the big wood apple tree that was both a visual as well as a gastronomic delight and also the Aathangarai that carried swifts currents when the water was plenty. The kulam/pond brings another small memory within this trip when Seema Mama once taught us swimming by lunging in the cold water. This pleasant walk would bring us home to a very simple supper of just a sathumathu and sutta appalam that would touch the soul. Homemade sutta appalam on the wood-burning stove, what more could I say? Then a chat on the thinnai by the elders would bring in memories of near and dear, some still fondly remembered even today.

A good night's sleep awaited without banish mats or tortoise mosquito coils. A hand held palmyra fan brought in a unique smell and soon sleep would find its way, only to awake to another beautiful day.

Summer would soon end and then a trip back to the city would bring a fresh start to another term at school.

Thus, here ends my nostalgic journey that I wanted to write down, so that when I read it several years from now, it would still bring back such fond memories that I will always cherish.