Every single day I spent at my Amma’s home in Kayamkulam, was like a treasure cove of events and experience worth more than the Kohinoor taken away from all of us without our permission.
Every evening sisters, brothers, wives, husbands and the nosy tween agers would cramp on the stairs blocking the steps in front of the house. Valiammachy would be so busy feeding her cows, checking whether her favorite chicken are back in the chook shed, and making sure its locked. There are so many predators who eyed on Valiammachy’s little fat hens. Keeri, Kurukkan, Kozhi Kallanmaar…
I loved trailing her path and discussing sweet nothings about each and every pet of hers, and many a times I have heard her using her slang, about God going away, without entering the house seeing the entrance blocked. It was Valiappachen who cleared my doubt:
Olden days every message of wisdom was told as a parable, to keep it embedded in our brain, if the entrance is blocked, we can trip and fall when someone rushes through the steps.
Another such parable is the warning not to swing your leg while sitting on the bed. Olden days there were kolambi (spittoon) kept under the beds of elders and if we sit and swing our legs, spittoons can fall and then it’s a disaster beyond words.
The one and only Southern Railway line, was literally running above the eves of our home, every meal and activity was associated with the various goods and passenger train that went past our home.
Valiammachy had a BGM for the trains. Chakku sayippu chathe pinne chakkathundam thinnattilla…ചക്കു സായിപ്പു ചത്തെ പിന്നെ ചക്കത്തുണ്ടം തിന്നട്ടില്ല keep saying this as fast as you can and it’s the lovable BGM of a running train.
Invariably Valiammachy was always the winner when we played the train game, to identify the name of the train and type of train, even the number of compartments in a train. She could say whether it was goods or passenger, the name of the train and whether it was coming from east or west. Amazing. It was like she got a WhatsApp, from stations on either side when the respective trains left the station.
I can remember us kids running near padeettathil house, counting the number of compartments and waving at every train whether it was a tanker, goods train or passenger. It was lot of fun and every time we knew someone was coming by train, we would all line up to wave at them on arrival and departure.
It was a ritual to stand by the door of the train of course very carefully and wave at our home and spot whoever was there, when we were travelling to Ernakulam side from Kollam, later I have watched, with a choking soul, the house many times after my grandparents passed away. Thankfully, I have never travelled that way after the house was gone.
My life revolved around trains from the time I was born until, I started living in the Middle East. Now it has come back to my life again in the US. But nothing matches the train rides in India. It’s so nostalgic, that’s where I enjoyed sitting on newspaper near the door, except when you reach Kadakkavoor, the platform is too close to the steps, you have to lift your legs and stay within, rest of the ride from Kollam to Trivandrum, there is no need for any reservation, and sitting by the door was cool. I stitched honeycomb in the yoke of baby dress (kutty uduppu) for Chechy, my one and only Vimalammamma during my daily ride to work at P&T, Trivandrum by Malabar Express. The feel was the same as riding my bicycle or moped, breeze stroking my face and the amazing green scenery alongside the track. I knew every nook and corner of the left and right hand sides of the track; it was like a topographical survey, a google map. It was a lot of fun waving at people we have never met in our life.
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