This is the best pat on my shoulder………………A note from Ponnachachen
Nice
Another surprise for you..
Pulwama (the place of killing 47 Jawans)is the place where I was posted after my passing out in 1967 Nov. I joined there as Officer Commanding B coy. Pulwama.
I still remember my old days with people around who were very cooperative and I used to go around without any fear. That is the only place in the world where we get “AMRI APPLE” the best I have ever tasted. It is green in color but juicy and tasty.
Well it is very very sad the incident took at that the same spot where my coy was deployed. They still continue there.
Ponnachachen
On 14th February 2019, when the news flashed “ CRPF Jawan’s were ambushed in Kashmir, the only thing that came to my mind is
Why, Why does this continue, Will this ever stop..
I know, the world and a lot of people thrive on creating harm, hurt, hatred and hell for others. Until such time when men are taken over by emergency, an emergency driven by AI (Artificial Intelligence) mankind will not improve.
CRPF instantly connects me to my maternal uncle Koshy K George a DAGO (Directly Appointed Gazetted Officer) who was a stalwart in CRPF; and has served Indian Army in most of the Indian states which had a base. He was in Jammu Kashmir when I was in school and my vivid memories of India starts with my uncle who used to come in military uniform with stars and brass and colorful ribbon sewn on his shoulder and some in the cap too if I am not mistaken. The medals would not have been so shiny if it was against any other complexion than his; he had the most adorable jet black shiny complexion which brought out every attire he wore, whether it was a suit or the kasavu mundu and shirt.
He had a voice that was so commanding and could wake the cows in manager’s house, our neighbor at Kayamkulam who had a sprawling house in a huge property separated by a high masonry wall. When he came from the borders, I believed the train stopped by the hillock literally on top of our grandparents home, and the orderlies pushed the trunks by the side of the hill in front of Hobby theatre, nothing would happen to the steel trunks, painted in military green with alphabets and numbers stenciled on to it with breaks in the fonts, I am sure those days I thought they ran out of ink.
When the orderlies marched home, the military truck would come roaring with my uncle in it, the house was in pin drop silence for a few moments, until he opened his mouth and both Valiammachy and Valiappachen stood at ease, even though Amma was older than him they behaved like twins, he called her GRACY… in a hoarse, coarse, rough high pitched voice. Amma returned the call by EdaBabu, as one word.. and I called him Ponnachachen.
I believed every army man was disciplined, that he lived for the country and the country listens to all army men. I was always taken aback by the diligence and commitment of army men, and their relentless service to the country. I was a true patriot and believed every army and police men were always committed to serve the nation and they had no other desires in life.
Once he changes to civilian clothes, he would perch himself on the half wall in front and the first course of action was palmistry, he was deeply into Astrology and I will never forget the time he said Indira Gandhi will be defeated; she is having Kandaka Shani, that very moment she was in her prime of power and everyone including Valiappachen gaped and was aghast, he said in 6 months she will be out of power and believe me it happened and ever since no one looked back when we spot Kandaka Shani!!!!
His trunk had a lot of strange goodies, which was so intriguing that it took my dreams soaring high on a tiny walnut.
Even as of today I buy walnuts from the farmers market a pound for a dollar. And I crack them with my molars trying to squeeze it as deep as I can into my mouth opening my jaw. It cracks and brings out the broken shell and nut which is so odd shaped clinging on to the shell and bits of it falling down, the shape is like a maple leaf in 3D, it has an amazing oily taste and it takes me back to the woods of Kashmir, where my uncle served in his youth and after his marriage. He brought the warmest pashminas which were hand woven, with jet black and scarlet red wool with absolutely gorgeous geometric shapes embedded in the weave, the tarsals were so long and fluffy it remind me of the squirrel’s puffy tail, that jump from tree to tree picking nuts and burying them all over for winter months….. only to forget and when spring comes it starts sprouting with the blooming daffodils.
He had a good eye for art and artefacts and local produce of whichever state he served, from Jammu Thawi and Srinagar, he brought us walnut wood based duck shaped fruit holders, small curios which could open and close and hold valiappachens betel nut, and certain medicines, there were printed silk sarees with tiny leaves printed all over the body of the saree and beautiful pallu with bigger prints, there were mufflers and monkey caps, woolen cardigans very light ones, with V neck and the old and favorite kambili as we called in Kerala Kambili puthappu, the grey color one, I always thought it was a bit too scratchy and static. I was inducted to all these winter clothing by him. there was a sky blue coat he brought for my Amma, she cherished it so dearly … it is still smooth and warm as ever……
There was a beautiful handmade pottery dinner set he brought for us at home, deep brown color, with thumb prints in a golden paint and fired to make it glazed, obviously never microwave safe. My Amma and later I preserved it all, and kept all close to heart. The only time Amma took it out was to serve dinner for Arch Bishop Benedict Mar Gregorios.
Ponnachachen was smart enough to take the covenant of every activity at home, he was serving the nation and that was respected by all. Until such time that Ponnachachen decided to marry, no one ever thought of his Marriage!!!
Joyce Ammamma, we were all quite thrilled, as it is Ponnachachen was a foreigner for us, he was always outside Kerala and mostly in Kashmir, now we have his wife who was born and brought up in Ceylon, that was indeed way too foreign for us.
Slowly we started hearing Karipuzha, well I thought that cannot be in Ceylon right, and Lo!! we found that her parents had come back, her brothers and sister, all were back in India and parents were settled in Karipuzha. Joyce Ammamma was the first Engineer in the family, she was in HAL, Hyderabad and she reminded me of a Principal at a residential school in the high range.
Her pleated saree would not budge from her shoulder, her saree pallu would stay intact at a specific length and her pleats were all ironed and stiff all the time with the borders showing at the right height at waist, with a blouse which looked as though was ironed on to herself, nothing more nothing less, she wore a powder with lasting fragrance, and her hair was thick and in a perfect DO.
She had broad forehead and I always thought both their voice matched – the bass – Her parents were adorable and so were her brothers and sister, they all inducted to the family that we were. It was a lot of fun when we were growing up, Amma was an integral part of everything that happened and she was unmatched.
Ponnachachen moved to Hyderabad and he was in charge of the whole place and that’s when Amma got her pearls and corals, I still have the first pearl chain Amma got from him. This is when I got blessed with two of my adorable Jawan like Jill Jill brothers. Roshan and Robin, these guys used to come home for holidays they were hardly 3 and 2 and it was my pleasure to oil them and have them dispense their might with a bout of gusthi!!! Pure wrestling. I was being the whistle bearer, never could call a fowl as they were all over me most of the time.
They sang and danced and did karate entertaining me forever and ever… I missed them the minute they left.
Ponnachachen later on voluntarily retired from CRPF and went overseas, and I still remember visiting him in 2 months of my trip to Zambia with my son, this is one place where he relocated a lot of Kunnumpuram clan including my little brother.
Ponnachachen’s favorite curry was fish head curry and my Amma was bent upon making that every time he is there, Amma was so fond of him that she has never ever stood by me, I had no chance ever when it came to her nearly twin brother Babu by her side…. Loyalty runs in the family…… One day I had to steal his heart by sheer surprise, with the same hand made fish head curry in the desert, a score Amma was not alive to watch and match.
Life went on! and today as I write this we have a silent tear in all of us, we had to bid farewell to our darling Roshan a year ago and that did shook their inner strength.
We all say our silent prayers for both Ponnachachen and Joyce Ammamma whom kids call fondly Appachy and Ammachy.
My spirit weeps for the Jawans, the real selfless soldiers who safeguard us in the borders selflessly and their families who live in anxiety and bear the untold pain every time MEN decide to take precious life’s away.
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