I had always taken the house for granted. It had existed from the earliest days of my memory and I thought it will always exist. It is one of the most comfortable places on the planet. To top it, it was beautiful too. Not just beautiful; it was majestic. Yes, the word's majestic. We showed pictures of the house to anyone interested in seeing the pictures we showed. Everyone who saw the picture expressed awe. A couple were lucky enough to see the house too. They made the appropriate "ooohs" and "aaahs". Oh! We are proud of the house.
The pride did not arise only from the beauty and majestic nature of the house. We were proud of the fact that the house was owned by our family for nearly a century. As time progressed, the house kept up with the developing world. Electricity was brought in with lamps and fans. Radio and television were not left behind either. Some structure changed from wood to plastic and metal. But most of the house remained the way it was built. One could almost see and feel the early occupants of the house as one walked through it.
All these thoughts were beyond me in my young age. The open hall at the front with its open structure, tiled roof and built-in wooden seats surrounding it was a place I loved to spend my time. The elders sat around a circular central table and chatted while the younger ones sat around half listening to the barely understandable family tales. From time to time, interesting snacks made its way from the kitchen. My favorites were poruvalanga and manoharam.
My brother, sisters and I used to hang around the house doing I don't remember what. Jack fruit and mango trees surrounded the house like any other Kerala house but I don't remember climbing any one of those tree or throwing stone at the fruits. I remember the star fruit tree opposite to the house though. The tangy star fruit were a delight to slurp on and we pleaded any elder in the vicinity to pluck a few fruits for us.
The house over the years hosted a number of interesting discussions in its hall. As soon as we reached home we were welcomed heartily by one of the elders of the family. At those moments, we felt important and feeling of affection rose in our hearts for every being on the planet. Many hours were spent in eating, talking and drinking tea. Those were some of the most relaxed moments of my life. One summer at the beginning of this decade, the hall became the location for a booze party. Members of the family sloshed around in alcohol singing and dancing. Those were the final moments of fun that took place in the house. Since then many who resided in and around the house have left this world.
The house lay neglected for many years. Everyone loved the place but no one had the time or inclination to do anything about. We had no ownership right over the house and so could only watch it move towards dilapidation from the sidelines. At one point, one of us decided the buy the house and thus bring it back from receding memory. But the attempt turned out to be a washout. Too many people were involved and this implied family bonds and friendships were enveloped in greed and mistrust. The deal fell through; actually it fell through even before the deal stage was reached. The bonds broken never healed completely and it took a few years for the people involved to look eye to eye.
When human beings move out, other beings move in. Many of these beings are not capable of differentiating between their abode and food. For the past few years, they have been systematically chewing up the delicious parts of the house. The structure has become weak. The people who own the place studied the situation and decided it will not stand another monsoon. So they have decided to bring down the house. The 150 year old house's end is near. Soon, it will be torn apart. The next time only a vacant and wounded piece of land will stare back at me.
As tremendous as the current monsoon is, the house has survived it. Though weak, nature has taken care not to hound this precious piece of history. Will humans do the same? I don't think so. Humans are no longer part of nature.
All these thoughts were beyond me in my young age. The open hall at the front with its open structure, tiled roof and built-in wooden seats surrounding it was a place I loved to spend my time. The elders sat around a circular central table and chatted while the younger ones sat around half listening to the barely understandable family tales. From time to time, interesting snacks made its way from the kitchen. My favorites were poruvalanga and manoharam.
The house over the years hosted a number of interesting discussions in its hall. As soon as we reached home we were welcomed heartily by one of the elders of the family. At those moments, we felt important and feeling of affection rose in our hearts for every being on the planet. Many hours were spent in eating, talking and drinking tea. Those were some of the most relaxed moments of my life. One summer at the beginning of this decade, the hall became the location for a booze party. Members of the family sloshed around in alcohol singing and dancing. Those were the final moments of fun that took place in the house. Since then many who resided in and around the house have left this world.
The house lay neglected for many years. Everyone loved the place but no one had the time or inclination to do anything about. We had no ownership right over the house and so could only watch it move towards dilapidation from the sidelines. At one point, one of us decided the buy the house and thus bring it back from receding memory. But the attempt turned out to be a washout. Too many people were involved and this implied family bonds and friendships were enveloped in greed and mistrust. The deal fell through; actually it fell through even before the deal stage was reached. The bonds broken never healed completely and it took a few years for the people involved to look eye to eye.
When human beings move out, other beings move in. Many of these beings are not capable of differentiating between their abode and food. For the past few years, they have been systematically chewing up the delicious parts of the house. The structure has become weak. The people who own the place studied the situation and decided it will not stand another monsoon. So they have decided to bring down the house. The 150 year old house's end is near. Soon, it will be torn apart. The next time only a vacant and wounded piece of land will stare back at me.
As tremendous as the current monsoon is, the house has survived it. Though weak, nature has taken care not to hound this precious piece of history. Will humans do the same? I don't think so. Humans are no longer part of nature.
Excellent appreciation of the house, where I was born.
ReplyDeleteWhen history of the big house is probed into, it tells a slightly different story from the one better known to us. The title deeds and life span of ancestors estimate the house as 125 years old, built in late nineteen century. It was not built by plakkot family branch in kinassery like most people think. It was built by one Mr. Erady from kozhikkode, who had married from pathiyil family in kinassery. He was a person conferred with Rao Bahadoor title in british govt and was high profile officer in those days british malabar. Mr. Erady dreamed of building a mansion in the land inherited by his beloved wife from her maternel family. The mansion Mr. Erady wanted to built was a fusion of traditional and british architecture, which he had sucessfully completed. It is evident in the ground floor being constructed in keeping tradition nair tharawads of those days with a grand sitting room(poomukham), which diffrentiates it from tradition. But, the first and second floor are more european orinted with the third floor being purely ball room or bar room in european style of those days. A good compund wall, garden, walkway likye, which were not familier sceans in those days palakkad country side were part of that. A big gate was fixed in the outer entrance to property. The frst floor had the most beautiful rooms and two long garandhas in front and back, which the master used to ride in coated fixed with wheels in legs. Remember, he build such mansion in country side village in palakkad at a time when motor vehicle were unheard of in this part of the country. The only mode of transportation was cart pulled either by bulls or horse. It is presumed that Mr. Erady never permenantly stayed here. It was his resting place or to entertain friends. His only son, who inherited the propery was a barristor, whom we respectfully called 'valiya appumama'. Valiya appumama and family stayed in a mansion in town, where now stands district police head quarters. He conferred the care taker ship to one of his maternel uncles, Pathiyil Govindan Nair, our great grand father. Valiyaappumama had utmost trust in Govindan nair, whom he had requested to stay in that house with his familly to look after his mansion and paddy fields as their own. Govindan Nair was not at all conservative among nairs of those days. He wanted to give his male children good education and world view. Hence, he replantiwed his entire family consisting of wife and elevenn children from ethanoor to kinassery, nearer to town. It was revolution in those days of joint family and marumakkathayam. Valiya appumama, extreemly pleased with the way his uncle looked after the mansion built by his father, sold it to his uncle for a low price. Thus, it became the plakkot family, with its matriarch plakkot dakshayani amma, who was also daughter of pathiyil kunju nair and plakkot nagukuttitamma. Kunju nair was the uncle of gvndan nair and year of bith is assumed to be around 1850. Thus, the big house was not inherited by the plakkottians as their family property. It only came to their hands by chance, thanks to good relations theie father enjoyed with its orignal owners. In fact, plakkot neither had money nor position or knowledge requied to built such a mansion in those days. So naturally, their subsequent generations do not have in their thinking, logic, pride or gene whatever is called the spirit required to strive hard to maintain such a property.
ReplyDeleteRegference: old land documents& contributions from a most trusted friend, i e, mind
ReplyDeleteRegference: old land documents& contributions from a most trusted friend, i e, mind
ReplyDelete