.
Keemuree’le Appachi has always had a special place in our childhood memories.
During the summer holidays, a certain trio collectively known as DinuDooniVijoo used to go tramping around all over Thrikodithanam, looking for fun, fighting boredom -- clambering up assorted trees; raiding cupboards for upperis and squash; spotting turtles & snakes in the pond; wading through streams trying to catch little fishes called Mannathukanni (മാനത്തുകന്നി : eye-to-the-sky); hiding in corners, waiting for forbidden ice cream-candy vendors; looking for bicycles on hire and new places to explore...
The neighbors were, of course, wary. In the entire locality, if there was one place that always welcomed the brats, it was a house just across the paddy fields -- KeeMuree. The was an abbreviation of Kizhakke-Muri (കിഴാക്കെ മുറി or literally `Eastern-Room`) with reference to the erstwhile location of the original family mansion.
A genial, friendly old lady always invited us in. She would open her cupboards and treat us to home-made jams and allow us to stuff our pockets with all the upperi we would carry. On the day we were to return to Hyderabad, she would turn up with a big bunch of bananas and say, “Remember me when you gobble these in the train! - one for each station!!”
Reminiscing is what we were doing yesterday evening. That was when one Ammavan (അമ്മാവന്: maternal uncle) came up with this amazing story about KeeMuree, and I just thought of repeating it here for the folks who may not have heard it. It has all the ingredients of a thriller - friendship, violence, secret love, impossible journeys and dramatic reunions.
The story begins with a rather oddly named school in Thrikodithanam, - the Vocational Bias Secondary School, better known locally as “Ookkan-Bayaas”. It was a private institution built in early 1900s by a person named Kuttan Pillai, who made his fortune as a Surveyor for the princely state of Travancore. Pillai's local influence and standing was directly proportional to his wealth.
One day, Pillai found something missing from his house and his needle of suspicion fell on a brash teenager in the neighborhood – Appukuttan of Lakathekkethil. There must have been some previous grievances as well, so Pillai had Appukuttan hauled up by the police, who promptly proceeded to beat him black and blue.
Appukuttan had a very dear friend named Prabhakaran Menon of KeeMuree. Prabhakaran was tall, strapping, athletic lad of 15 or 16, and deeply in love with Apukuttan’s sister, Bhavani. The friendship between the boys was known to all and sundry but the romance with the sister was a well-kept secret and both the families were completely unaware of it.
When Appukuttan returned home after his ‘treatment’ at the police station, Prabhakaran was absolutely furious. He swore revenge and within a few days he ambushed the owner of Okkan-Bayaas and let him have it. It is said that Okkan-Pillai got such a trashing from the teenager that he barely escaped with his life.
Prabhakaran ran away from home the same night – staying back only guaranteed trouble from all quarters. He traveled by bus and rail to Madras in a few days, and from there he boarded a steamer to Malaysia. So in circa 1937, when Bhavani began refusing marriage proposals one after the another, the secret came out wrapped in an ultimatum – she would either marry Prabhakaran or not get married at all.
Bhavani then started her long wait for news from across the Bay of Bengal. Pressure from the family kept mounting for a few years until one fine day an acquaintance came up with news of our hero in Malaysia. Prabhakaran had found a good job in Penang and wanted his sweetheart to join him ASAP. He was unable to come to Kerala for getting married, so he sent forth an audacious suggestion – could Bhavani join him in Penang?
To somebody who had never stepped out of Thrikodithanam without an escort, Penang was in another universe. Her family objected vehemently but she was adamant. She had to go. Immediately.
Appukuttan volunteered to take her to Madras, from where she traveled alone by ship to Malaysia. A week or two later, she landed in Penang where the grand reunion was quickly followed by the marriage ceremonies. Bhavani now became KeeMuree le Appachi (`Appachi` അപ്പച്ചി = father`s younger sister).
Soon after he returned from Madras, Appukuttan too ran away from home and joined the British Indian army. A few years of active service during WW-II and he returned home one day to get married. It is said that he was so smitten the pretty bride that he decided not to report back for duty. The government did not take kindly to deserters and soon Thrikodithanam was swarming with police & army personnel, as well as local bounty hunters.
Appukuttan went into hiding. He kept changing hideouts and disguises; rarely ventured out of dark granaries, lofts and sacred groves during daytime. Children knew that he was somewhere around when food disappeared from the kitchen and books vanished into thin air. The hiding continued until 1947 after independence, when the new Indian army decided not to trouble men who had deserted the British.
Prabhakaran & Bhavani visited Thrikodithanam every few years; laden with wonderful gifts for everyone at home: ball-point pens, perfumes, watches, dresses, nylon umbrellas and gadgets.
Soon after their two daughters were born, life got progressively tougher in Malaysia under the “bhoomiputras”. So the family moved back to KeeMuree in the 1960s and life shifted gears into settle for a more sedate, predictable pace.
Adventure on high seas and foreign lands gave way to harvesting paddies, banana's and mulberries - and to pampering skinny brats on the prowl.
Keemuree’le Appachi has always had a special place in our childhood memories.
During the summer holidays, a certain trio collectively known as DinuDooniVijoo used to go tramping around all over Thrikodithanam, looking for fun, fighting boredom -- clambering up assorted trees; raiding cupboards for upperis and squash; spotting turtles & snakes in the pond; wading through streams trying to catch little fishes called Mannathukanni (മാനത്തുകന്നി : eye-to-the-sky); hiding in corners, waiting for forbidden ice cream-candy vendors; looking for bicycles on hire and new places to explore...
The neighbors were, of course, wary. In the entire locality, if there was one place that always welcomed the brats, it was a house just across the paddy fields -- KeeMuree. The was an abbreviation of Kizhakke-Muri (കിഴാക്കെ മുറി or literally `Eastern-Room`) with reference to the erstwhile location of the original family mansion.
A genial, friendly old lady always invited us in. She would open her cupboards and treat us to home-made jams and allow us to stuff our pockets with all the upperi we would carry. On the day we were to return to Hyderabad, she would turn up with a big bunch of bananas and say, “Remember me when you gobble these in the train! - one for each station!!”
Reminiscing is what we were doing yesterday evening. That was when one Ammavan (അമ്മാവന്: maternal uncle) came up with this amazing story about KeeMuree, and I just thought of repeating it here for the folks who may not have heard it. It has all the ingredients of a thriller - friendship, violence, secret love, impossible journeys and dramatic reunions.
The story begins with a rather oddly named school in Thrikodithanam, - the Vocational Bias Secondary School, better known locally as “Ookkan-Bayaas”. It was a private institution built in early 1900s by a person named Kuttan Pillai, who made his fortune as a Surveyor for the princely state of Travancore. Pillai's local influence and standing was directly proportional to his wealth.
One day, Pillai found something missing from his house and his needle of suspicion fell on a brash teenager in the neighborhood – Appukuttan of Lakathekkethil. There must have been some previous grievances as well, so Pillai had Appukuttan hauled up by the police, who promptly proceeded to beat him black and blue.
Appukuttan had a very dear friend named Prabhakaran Menon of KeeMuree. Prabhakaran was tall, strapping, athletic lad of 15 or 16, and deeply in love with Apukuttan’s sister, Bhavani. The friendship between the boys was known to all and sundry but the romance with the sister was a well-kept secret and both the families were completely unaware of it.
When Appukuttan returned home after his ‘treatment’ at the police station, Prabhakaran was absolutely furious. He swore revenge and within a few days he ambushed the owner of Okkan-Bayaas and let him have it. It is said that Okkan-Pillai got such a trashing from the teenager that he barely escaped with his life.
Prabhakaran ran away from home the same night – staying back only guaranteed trouble from all quarters. He traveled by bus and rail to Madras in a few days, and from there he boarded a steamer to Malaysia. So in circa 1937, when Bhavani began refusing marriage proposals one after the another, the secret came out wrapped in an ultimatum – she would either marry Prabhakaran or not get married at all.
Bhavani then started her long wait for news from across the Bay of Bengal. Pressure from the family kept mounting for a few years until one fine day an acquaintance came up with news of our hero in Malaysia. Prabhakaran had found a good job in Penang and wanted his sweetheart to join him ASAP. He was unable to come to Kerala for getting married, so he sent forth an audacious suggestion – could Bhavani join him in Penang?
To somebody who had never stepped out of Thrikodithanam without an escort, Penang was in another universe. Her family objected vehemently but she was adamant. She had to go. Immediately.
Appukuttan volunteered to take her to Madras, from where she traveled alone by ship to Malaysia. A week or two later, she landed in Penang where the grand reunion was quickly followed by the marriage ceremonies. Bhavani now became KeeMuree le Appachi (`Appachi` അപ്പച്ചി = father`s younger sister).
Soon after he returned from Madras, Appukuttan too ran away from home and joined the British Indian army. A few years of active service during WW-II and he returned home one day to get married. It is said that he was so smitten the pretty bride that he decided not to report back for duty. The government did not take kindly to deserters and soon Thrikodithanam was swarming with police & army personnel, as well as local bounty hunters.
Appukuttan went into hiding. He kept changing hideouts and disguises; rarely ventured out of dark granaries, lofts and sacred groves during daytime. Children knew that he was somewhere around when food disappeared from the kitchen and books vanished into thin air. The hiding continued until 1947 after independence, when the new Indian army decided not to trouble men who had deserted the British.
Prabhakaran & Bhavani visited Thrikodithanam every few years; laden with wonderful gifts for everyone at home: ball-point pens, perfumes, watches, dresses, nylon umbrellas and gadgets.
Soon after their two daughters were born, life got progressively tougher in Malaysia under the “bhoomiputras”. So the family moved back to KeeMuree in the 1960s and life shifted gears into settle for a more sedate, predictable pace.
Adventure on high seas and foreign lands gave way to harvesting paddies, banana's and mulberries - and to pampering skinny brats on the prowl.
No comments:
Post a Comment