Aah, To be back in one’s village (Concluding Part 2)

The light drizzle in the morning and the overhanging cloud signaled that it could prove a spoilsport any time. We stuffed the bags in the dickey and kept knick-knacks in the backseat, suspending diet restrictions till return.

Starting off the trip with playing Maha Ganapathe… of Maharajapuram Santhanam, Ragu unleashed his collection of assorted Carnatic classical, Tamil and Hindi film music, vocal and instrumental. Nice to be transported to the 1960s/70s and to Kannadasan’s  meaningful lyrics set to haunting music by the one and only Viswanathan-Ramamurthy duo. Madan Mohan took charge of Hindi melodies.

With a brief stop over in Krishnagiri for breakfast, it was a non-stop drive to Coimbatore. The touchdown was an hour earlier with the young driver maintaining an average of 130-140 kmph. “Best suited for young-generation travellers,” we whispered.

A quick lunch and a power nap in the hotel, we drove to Sri Satguru Jaggi Vasudev’s Isha Foundation campus (a nice experience), Siruvani waterfalls, and the centuries old Perur temple.

Early next morning we left for Guruvayoor. As the driver waited at a signal, I realized we were passing through Alathur, famous for banana chips. We invaded the shop for full forty minutes trying out all samples that were offered and ending up buying them all - two sets.

At five next morning we positioned ourselves in the Senior Citizens’ queue. We had very good darshan, not once but twice. We could have had more till 8 am. But we had other programmes. We covered adjoining temples like Mammiyoor before rushing to Trissur.

In Trissur, we had breakfast at Pathans Hotel, and then darshan at a few temples. Both Ragu and Padma, hailing from Kumbakonam, were thrilled to watch in Tiruvambadi Krishna temple the young caparisoned elephant doing a baby-elephant walk, swinging ears in unison  - either to the accompaniment of foot-tapping Chendai beat, or to ward off flies.

At the Palakkad guesthouse we took a short break before heading to Kalpathy – declared a UNESCO heritage village. Adjoining the Shiva temple is the Kalpathy river, in full flow. The ladies got busy buying homemade pickles, savouries, and a few other items.

Though it was getting dark we rushed to Pallassena temple, our adima kavu, the Devi temple to which our family owes allegiance. Utterly tired, we hit the bed early promising to rush through the itinerary the next morning before heading back to Bangalore.

Next morning we drove first to my ancestral house in Vadakkanthara village, now owned by my aunt. We took Ragu and Padma inside the house. My aunt’s more-than-willing d-i-l took charge of the conducted tour: granary on the left, the two first floors in different rooms, the store-room and the deep-store underneath, which had all family’s gold, silver and other valuables, the well with crystal clear water, the kitchen to cater to 30-odd members, the massive Idli grinding stone fixed to the floor…

If Vadakkanthara was vibrant with rich cloth merchants, Ramanathapuram, my mother’s village, was inhabited by school teachers, learned purohits and clerks in Taluk office or court, and remained a sleepy village. A few yards before the village stood Lord Ganesha’s temple to protect one from any Obstruction, as Lord Mahavishnu, the preserver, presided over at the entrance. At the far end is Lord Shiva, the destroyer, with a Departure lounge (read: cremation ground) 1000 yards away, with the village-pond in between. ”What made you not settle down in Palakkad?” asked Ragu seeing me brimming with joy. I had no answer.

When we reached Ramanathapuram, Uncha Vrithi had just started off from the Veda Pathashala with the young boys, the purohits in the making, with an elderly person at the centre, going around the village merrily singing bhajan with  mridangam and harmonium elevating the enchanting level. Nice to get a feel of the good old days.,

The driver was getting restless; he must reach Bangalore before sunset to get an assignment for the morrow. So we just drove past my school and college buildings, skipping the scenic Malampuza dam, Madapulli Devi temple, Ramassery Idli… 

“Yet another meticulous planning turned into a rat race,” we concluded at our doorstep as we dipped our hands into our respective bags for the keys. “I gave them to you,” I said, unable to find them in mine.. “No, I distinctly remember I entrusted them to you,” she asserted, both displaying signs of back to basics.