Balamama is no more

Another son of Chakrapani Iyer and core member of the Pollachi clan died in Chenna, Friday morning. He was 81. With his demise I have lost three of my five clan uncles. Murthy mama and Chandru are the other two who are no more.
P C Balasubramiam, as he was known outside the family circles, had alienated himself from rest of the Pollachi clan for several years. Because he held a grudge against some of his elders in the family in the matter of division of ancestral property. No other member of the family saw much merit in his claim. Nor did Balamama have a case that could stand legal scrutiny. Nonetheless he carried the grudge to his grave.
This photo is nearly four decades old; and it is a pity we don't have a better or a later picture of Balamama(right). Now that his death has taken away the prime cause for the family divide, we could hope to reconnect and have his daughters and their families contribute to this family blog. For a start, let us have the latest photo of Balamama and his family for the benefit of those who have long been out of touch. Incidentally, when we created this blog I tried getting in touch with Murali, Balamama's son-in-law, but the mail bounced back because the e-mail ID I got was no longer valid. We were so out of touch; and still are. He could contact me at gv.krishnan@gmail.com ; and we can take it from there.
It must be said during his lifetime no one took initiative to make peace with Balamama. Nor did he seem amenable to reasoning and see the futility of pursuing a quarrel over a perceived grudge. So bitter was his relationship that he rarely, if at all, visited his native Pollachi ever since he sold his portion of the ancestral property many decades back. The last time I recall he came to Pollachi was five years ago, when my father died.
Balamama had special respect for, and felt indebted to my father, who was instrumental in getting him a central government job. Before he joined the customs and central excise depatment Balamama held a small-time job in a milk co-operative at Kovilpalayam near Pollachi. The family quarrel,which was basically Balamama's own making, had cramped his style. He was known for his sense of humour and I counted him as the liveliest of my five Pollachi uncles. And he had a flair for music, and a voice comparable to that of Srikazhi Govindarajan.
In Mysore, we first heard about Balamama's death from my nephew Raja chakrapani (Baby's son) who phoned from Chennai. Subsequently, chittappa Padmanabhan called from Pollachi. When we called Balamama's place at jhafferkhanpet, his daughter Suganthi came on line. She said her father complained of uneasiness in the chest the night before, but they attributed it to gastric trouble.
The Balamama I used to know had problem limiting intake of the food items he relished. Anyway, when his trouble persisted Balamama was moved to a hospital,where he breathed his last around 7 a m. Suganthi said the doctor attributed her father's death to complications related to ageing.

Wedded to the temple

My brother-in-law Govindan is a much-married man; he has had three weddings - twice to the same woman - my sister Bhagya.
This was the second time he married Bhagya, as Govindan turned sixty, a couple of years back. After retirement he also found another cause to which he became committed. Our Govindan is now wedded to a temple in Ber Serai, New Delhi - Vaikundanathar temple founded by Srirangam Srimad Andavan Sawmigal.

"Since it gave me an opportunity to devote my time in the service of god, I immediately accepted the offer", says Govindan in response to my e-mail asking him about his temple duties.
The deity, lord Vaikuntanath(Vishnu), at Ber Serai is similar to the one in Srirangam except that the deity is in a sitting posture. The photo taken during Navaratri Utsav has been sent by Balaji, a devotee from Vasant kunj. Decorating the deity is an art that has been mastered by Sriraman, described by Govindan as a young and energetic priest.

Govindan, though not as young as Sriraman, is no less energetic. He is at the temple morning and evening, for over eight hours, come rain or severe chill, seven days a week. When does he find time for family? That's the question they would want answered, but wouldn't bring themselves to ask.
The Govindans daughter Uma, a working mother living at the other end of the city, visits her parents with children Gautam and Saranya every other weekend; but for her father, it is work as usual.
Surely, Lord Vaikuntanatha wouldn't take it amiss if Govindan takes the Sunday off to be able to spend an evening with Saranya and Gautham. Doesn't the Lord appear at times in the guise of a child ?

Speaking of Govindan's godliness, his wedding, the first with Bhagya was performed in a choultry in Palani. I couldn't locate a photo; wouldn't it be nice, if Bhagya or Govindan sends us a photo we could use on this blog ?

Pollachi trip-6 & last: Our super-seniors

They don't recall when they met last - my mother and Balanna. They grew up together in Pollachi; are both 90 plus, super-seniors of the surviving Pollachi clan. Balanna is my mother's cousin - aunt Balanna-athhai's younger son. The elder one was Sarmanna. They all lived under the same roof in a joint-family, of which Chakrapani Iyer was the head.
Balanna who retired as head constable of police in Sathyamangalam lives with his son Kalyanam in Podhanur. He moved in there because of health problems associated with ageing, and because he had nothing going for him in Sathy.
Balanna lost his wife Muthamma 20 years back. Many of his police colleagues and cronies in Sathy are gone.A conversationalist with a flair for political talk, Balanna used to be lively company, sought after by friends. And the worst thing that can happen to such a person is losing friends, and being left with no one to relate to in the very place you have spent a life-time.
Kalyanam, retired railway official,takes good care his father, but he can't fill in the void left by his mother. Nor can he be expected to fill in for Balanna's thinnai-petchu friends,with whom he talked politics and shared social gossip.

If anything, Kalyanam's relationship with his father is reverential. He confessed to being a respectful son, still apprehensive of his father; afraid to have his say in his presence. Fathers in Balanna's generation were disciplinarians who didn't believe in friendly familiarity with their children. Abhyum Nanum was not Balanna's style when it came to bringing up children.
Kalyanam and his wife seated on their ancestrol oonjal - a swing that was part of living-room furniture in old agraharam houses. The swing, a favourite of his mother, is among the things Kalyanam brought with him after they sold their ancestral house in Sathy.

Kalyanam recalled my visit to the Sathy house decades back, as part of a marriage party on way to Mysore. The van we hired halted at Balanna's, where we had snacks. Kalayanam remembered that he had arrived at Sathy barely a few hours earlier in the morning from Cittaranjan, where he was then employed, at the locomotive works. He had taken leave to be able to join the barat to Mysore. The year:1971. Occasion - my wedding.
In this jaded photo salvaged from the wedding album Balanna is seen seated second from left; and his wife Muthamma, standing right behind him (as in life, so in photo).Their son Kalyanam is on the back row. Maybe he can figure out where; I can't,for sure - are you the one with a child in arm, Kalyanam ?If you are still with the group photo, the person to Balanna's left is his brother Sarmanna,and his wife standing behind. Nine of those in the group photo are now no more. They include Mrs and Mr Sarmanna.
I found the photo at their son Chandran's house in Machinnampatti, Pollachi. He was a kindly soul - Sarmanna; his life was a struggle, working in a cafetaria or desi equivalent of a fast-food joint. Whenever I, usaully with uncle Rajappa, happened to pass by his eating house on Pollach bazar street Sarmanna insisted on inviting us in for coffee and jelabi(which he knew was my favourite)
For all his struggle Sarmanna's daughter and sons have risen in life. Daughter Saraswathi, who retired from Tehsildar's office, is a multi-talented person. Besides composing lyrics for devotional songs, ably rendered in concerts by her twin-daughters - Jayshree and Vijayshree, known in musical circles as Kovai Shree sisters - Saraswathi does water colours, and sketches.Sarawathi and her husband Vaidhyanathan share their Ganapathy house in Coimbatore, with their only son Muthuraman and his hard-working wife, school-teacher and my niece, Kalpana.
Kalpana and her son Mukesh were mighty pleased to meet their patti (my mother) and her Bhagya chitti when we dropping in at their place in Coimbatore on our way back to Mysore.
Mukesh has a feel for the beat as he demonstrates his skill with mridhangam.Kalpana,like most mothers,would like Mukesh to develop extra-curricular interests.. Which is why she sends him for mridhangam coaching on Sundays.Mukesh confesses to his preference for dancing, fast-paced and foot-tapping kind popularised by our movies.

Pollachi trip-5: Where they filmed Devar Magan

Villages around Pollachi has long provided the outdoor setting for numerous Tamil films. Film-goers are familiar with the Sulakkal temple because Kamalahasan's Devar Magan was filmed here.
Marimuthu is a walking 'Google' on Sulakkal, its folk history as well as the reputation of the place as a favoured outdoor destination for film-makers from Kodampakkam. Marimuthu, a Sulakkal native has been on the watch&ward staff of the temple for 32 years.
But for us in the Pollachi clan Sulakkal, seven km from our Pollachi residence,is the seat of our family deity. My great grand-father was a resident of the nearby Vadakkipalayam. I heard it from Bhagya that our great-grand-father's forefathers came from Tanjavur.

I have childhood recollection of visiting the Vadakkipalayam residence of one of our great-grand-mothers.I have known her as Vadakkipalayam patti; and she used to live with her brother Ganapathy. I knew him as parangikkai thatha; because he used to bring a pumpkin as gift whenever he visited my grand-father's place in Coimbatore. He knew of my fondness for parangikkai.

Another Amman temple my mother was keen on visiting during our Pollachi trip is what the locals call Kudaluruvi Mariamman.Located in a by-lane of a residential area this temple attracts devotees seeking a cure for their stomach ailments - kudal in Tamil refers to the intestine. My mother has no stomach complaint.Her interest in visiting the temple was purely devotional; besides, she heard about the place from her sister Sitalakshmi(Sitha chitti), who is an acknowledged temple expert in our family.
The kudal temple was closed when we went there, around noon. Not a time for visiting the temple, we agree. But then we had more temples to visit before calling it a day.

Pollachi is full of temples - mostly Amman's. Interestingly, local residents rely as much on temples for their cures as they do on medical practioners. And they visit designated places of worship seeking cure for varied ailments. Mariamman on the main bazar is worshipped for the collective well-being of Pollachi people;and for keepng the town free from endemic diseases.
These terracotta images are offered in thanks-giving by Sulakkal devotees who get cured of their problems pertaining to a specified part of the body - eyes, limbs, face, ears. Viewed in this sense, Sulakkal is a 'multi-speciality' temple to which devotees flock for assorted cures. Folks with jaundice visit a city dargha, where a fakir is believed to have the healing powers. Sambu chitti says there is a temple in town that is designated as 'Plague' Mariamman.

Pollachi trip-4: Tirumurthy Hills

No trip of ours to Pollachi is complete without a visit to the family deity - Tirumurthy Hills, 60 km away in Udumalpet district. They worship here,not an idol,but a massive boulder that is believed to have rolled down the hill, as Lord Bramha, flanked by Vishnu and Shiva, stumbled on the boulder while on a stroll on top of the hill.
Pilgrims go around the boulder in pradhakshna, offerng prayers. The stream flowing around the rock originates from the hill-top panchalinga,a hallowed spot where the faithfuls can spot a set of five idols embedded under running water in the stream.

My earliest recollection of Tirumurthy hills was when, as a schoolboy, I used to visit the place with Pollachi family. My parents performed my punal ceremony here.We travelled in a convoy of bullock carts.It was an overnight journey from Pollachi, with a few hours halt at Dhali; from where we set out at the crack of dawn for the seven km journey to the temple.

No one dared spend the night at the temple complex those days. Devotees believed that the gods frequented the area after dusk. The temple priests commuted from Dhali.The temple is closed around 6.30 p m even today, though people live around the temple nowadays.
During a recent visit we made it to the temple arund 6 p m. As we hurried in to pray an elderly person came up seeking alms. When I told him that we need to do the puja first, the man let it be known that he needed to catch a bus back. I ignored his plea and moved on. On our return from prayer the man was still there. Presumably, the bus was late in coming.
Our alms-seeking commuter seen walking into the dusk to catch the last bus from Tirumurthy temple.

Pollachi trip-3: a school in our house

It has been a year since we rented out mother's house to Anusia's school. She is the woman next door who runs a school for mentally retarded children. There are 17 on her rolls, with varying degrees of severity in their disability. No, Anusia hasn't seen Taare Zameen Par. Her school pre-dates the movie.
This photo, taken a year back, set our mind for us. And the Aamir khan movie, creating a buzz those days, was still fresh on our mind. Initially, we had no plans to rent my mother's house;and I told Anusia as much when she first approached us. But then after watching Anusia's students and their cramped environment,we changed our mind and chose to rent the place for the school.

Anusia who was running the school in a garage on her backyard,said she desperately needed additional space. And our house, located adjacent to the garage, provided an ideal setting; it was right next to the wall
on the left.They have since made an opening in our common compund wall to facilitate access from the garage, which is now being used for physio-therapy.
Inside view of the garage which has been done up for physio sessions. Anusia has also painted the interior of our house in bright, eye-hitting colours.
The child in the corner of what used to be our living room wasn't happy to be in school.He wanted to come away with us, if only his teacher would let him go.

Pollachi trip-2:The clan sisters

Link to Pollachi trip-1, if you haven't read it alresdy.


Chittis - Sambu and Sita - two years back when we visited Tirumurthi Hills.
The chittis today don't look so good; they appear too aged for two years. Sambu chitti went through a bad patch,healthwise, during last month's visit to Chennai for her grandson Karthick's wedding. She is now back on her feet following a series of energising,and expensive,injections.
Sita chitti says she has multiple health complaints, some of which could be psychosomantic. She rarely stirs out of the house; has even stopped going to the nearby Ayappan temple. She lives on her own, in the company of jaded photos of the late chittappa and that of her only son Balu. She keeps telling me Balu would have been my age (70) now had he been alive. He died a schoolboy, drowning in a temple pond at Thirukkadaiyur, where his father P S Raman was then posted railway station master. He too faced an accidental death, after retirement,in a road mishap in Pollachi.

A plaque on chiiti's door front still bears the name of her late husband.
Speaking of which, we still retain the name-plate of my father V Gopalan at the door-front of my mother's house.Folks of her generation revere their husbands so much that my mother still would not utter my father's name,out of respect, even after his death.

The thing about the Pollachi family is that they made us feel very welcomed; they were particularly pleased to host Bhagya. The pleasure was mutual.For Bhagya has a certain affinity with Sambu chitti; they act like friends, trading jokes and pulling other's legs. Bhagya terms Sambu chitti as our family's Vairamuthu, for her flair for verses. Sambu chitti has been published in some Tamil journals. She has been a great one for composing lyrics for special family events and setting her compositions to popular film tunes of the day.Bhagya told Sambu chitti that she still sings some of chitti's evergreen numbers to humour her grand children Saranya and Gautham in New Delhi.
Sambu chitti's son Babu joins in, to listen in on Sambu-Bhagya's banter as they peel vegetable for the morning sambar.
Bhagya,like Sambu chitti, has a way of livening up things with her conversational skill. On the evening we reached Pollachi Babu and his school-going son Raghav had a later-than-usual meal to be able to give Bhagya company, and there chat session continued long after their meal.The adaai they are having was prepared by Babu's spouse Jayashree.
She appears to enjoy the proceedings so much that Jayashree had to control herself so as not to break into a gafffaw at something Bhagya said to her. Jayashree cooks as well as she sings. Her proficeincy as a vocalist has earned her the post of a teacher at the government music college in Coimbatore. Jayashree commutes 45 km to work from Pollachi every morning.
Speaking of cooking skills, Sambu chitti's daughter Usha is equally well endowed. She rustled up a tasty snack of pakora for us, within a 20-minute notice, when we dropped in at her Machinnampatti house on the Pollachi outskirts.

After years of struggle to raise their two sons - Manikandan and Balaji - through school Usha and her husband Chandran are now settled into a semi-retired life. Manikandan is an engineer with Essar's oil refinery in Jamnagar.Usha recalled how Manikandan studied for his engineering course, putting up with whatever privacy was available in their one-room family acommodation in Salem.
In comparison, younger brother Balaji, pursuing B Sc in computer science, has a room for himself at their Machinnampati house. The progress made by this hardworking family has been so commendable that it would have made Chandran's father proud,had he been alive to see his grandsons doing so well in their studies.Their grandpa Sarmanna had spent his life-time slogging for pittance in small-town restaurants and coffee-houses.
Balaji's other grand-father and my chittappa Padmanabhan has reasons to be proud of a uniformly good performance of all his grand children.
Raghav, who is closest to chittappa, is doing Plus-1 at Bharatiya Vidhya Bhaven high schoool. He is well-versed in computer useage, considering that his parents had put off getting broadband connection till relatively recently.I can claim to be among those instrumental in persuading Babu to go in for Internet connection because I believe that the benefits of the Internet for discerning youngsters such as Raghav, far outweighs possible risks of too much exposure to the Net.

Pollachi trip-1

She has been looking forward to it for weeks - to our Pollachi visit. My mother needed a change from her monotony in Mysore. My wife and I wanted to look up Sambu chitti-chittappa as we could not make it to her grandson Dubai Karthik's wedding in Chennai.
We decided to do Pollachi when Bhagya is with us in Mysore, on a visit from New Delhi. We finalised our travel plan the day after she arrived, on Thursday last. And mother was all packed and ready by Saturday, for our Monday start. Such was her excitment level,for our three-day trip.

Much of the road from Nanjangud to Aasanur(Tamil Nadu)is bad; has been so for years. Besides,there are no 'public conveniences' along our roads,like they have 'rest-rooms' along highways abroad. We drove into a PWD Inspection bungalow at Chikkahalli
reservoir(near Chamaraja Nagar), and talked the caretaker into allowing us to use the bathroom facility. During our last Pollachi trip,an year back, Raghu, retired
irrigation dept.engineer and my wife's brother-in-law, who was with us, had arranged for us to halt for breakfast at this place.
Having freshened up we were ready for the three-hour drive To Coimbatore, where we had lunch break at R S Puram Annapurna. Stepping out of Annapurna we headed for the Velliangiri foot-hills,40 km from Coimbatore,to visit Dhyanalinga at Isha Foundation centre.

The meditation hall, dome-like, is eminently structured for its purpose - meditation. Visitors are required to leave their cell-phone and camera outside before entering the place where pin-drop silence is maintained. Sound of even the rustling flap of a saree or trousers can disturb the quiet of this place. Volunteers,communicating in gestures, ensure zero-noise level.
Leaving Isha Yoga center, we drove up the jungle road for another km or two, to a secluded Shiva temple. Pujari there said this place was a staging-point for pilgrims who undertake an arduous trek to the hill-top shrine, across seven hills. There are well laid stone foot-steps for crossing the first four; the final three hills have no such steps and the climb is said to be rather steep. The trek across the hills takes six hours, and visits there are restricted to adult males and seniors (both male and female), and only during certain months in a year.
My late grand-father Venkataramana Iyer, they say, used to make annual pilgrimage on foot to this temple. On our way back from the temple we happened to pass through Telugu Brahmin Street, where he lived and I had spent much of my primary school days. My
grand-father, a police head-constable, was a prominent figure in the street.A severe disciplinarian at home ,as he was in uniform, I felt mildly intimidated in his presence even though he never ill-trated or used any harsh words. Grand-father even had a smile for me and granted time-off from studies on odd eveings,if he was pleased with my compliance with his discipline.
This is how our street looks today. I could hardly recognize our house; and the only landmark by which we guessed its location is the primary school in front our house.
The school is among the very few structures that retains its shape. And the building, still being used as school, qualifies to be a heritage site. The school was founded in 1874 by A S Rama Rao. As its student I used to see him taking rounds of school. He wore his
trade-mark fur cap; and diamond-studded ear-rings. With a thick and well-set mushtache Mr Rama Rao instilled fear among us. My uncle Tirumurthy Iyer served as
school-head at the Ramarao school before moving on to the Veerasami School at Raja Street as head-master.
Reached home at Pollachi, late afternoon. The house in the foreground is Sambu chitti's ;the middle one belongs to Sita chitti; and the green structure at the far end, partly visible, belongs to their elder sister and my mother.
The lane that leads to our family houses that are obscured by the houses on the street-front. The Chakrapani family had once seen better days; and I remember coming here, to
spend school vacations with my meternal grand-father Chakrapani Iyer at his British-type cottage, with vast open space in front.
The family land stretched to the end of this street. Our property included even the space on which the municipality laid this tarred road. As a mark of gratitude for the gift of land for public use they named this street after my grand-father Chakrapani Iyer.