Four generations:
Three continents: Two world wars: One village
These are tales spanning four generations spread across three continents
in between and after the two world wars of people who set forth under different
circumstances from one small village called Agaramangudi.
The story line traverses through different time lines, locations or
incidents with no particular order. The only order being the
alphabetical one – A to Z meant purposefully for the A to Z challenge. These
posts can be read as standalone posts, but would be best comprehended if
you read them along with their prelude provided as a link.
Little
did she know then that there would be other bloodless mutinies much closer to home,
that over a period of time, would completely alter the social structure of the quaint
Agraharam of Agaramagudi and that Sri Lakshmi Nivas would be rummaged to
rubbles.
W- Whitefield -2009
As she
lay in the nursing home with a listless overworked nurse injecting her with more sedatives to subside her moaning, Susee would
scream out for help before being sedated
by the medicine. Jaanu looked
into her eyes and held her fragile bony shoulders. The stench of urine from the uncleared bedpan
underneath the bed over powered the smell of medicated talcum powder that kept
the bed sores away.
Jaanu
knew, that, had she been able, her grandma would have protested. She never used any other
talcum powder other than the ‘Gokul Santol’. This certainly was not smelling
like Gokul Santol.
‘Nee Jaanu thaney’ ... Are you not Jaanu ? she asked after
staring at Jaanu for a few minutes,
trying to juggle her memory hard enough to remember the face that was
looking at her while holding her shoulders .
‘Aamam paatti ‘, ‘That
is correct grandma’ replied her granddaughter, now old enough to be the
responsible adult and her
caretaker.
When
the doctor pronounced the onset of Dementia a few months ago, no one imagined
it would be so emotionally draining for the family. On most occasions she hardly recognized her own daughter and son. She would alternate between
fits of rage and bouts of wails leaving them clueless about what she was
going through. Her daughter and son, were emotionally drained and
physically worn out doing their best, trying to be the caregiver for a mother
whom they had known to be nothing but a dignified, compassionate, strong and
loving woman all her life. It was heart wrenching for them to see their mother in this condition.
A
couple of years ago when she was still able to walk and manage on her own, Her son took her on a trip to Agaramangudi. The Mangudi
where she had set foot as a 16 year old young innocent bride of Subbu.
Sri Lakshmi Nivas – 1914.
Susee noticed the
inscription atop the huge mansion that was built in 1914. It stood at the end
of the Agraharam just before the Mango Orchard and the private pond where the
women folk went to bathe and wash clothes.
As she stepped into the
house, the fragrance of fresh Jasmine wafted through the Veranda from the
climber that had spread across the entrance of the house. Everytime she smelled
fresh jasmine flowers, it would bring along soothing memories of the day she
arrived as the bride at Sri Lakshmi Nivas.
‘Valadhu
kaala eduthu vechchu vaamma ‘ ...Set your right foot ahead and step into this auspicious beginning
...echoed an old woman’s voice.
She would spend the next 40 years, nurturing and nourishing hundreds of
human beings, overseeing along with her husband an entire eco system of the
Agraharam life, unperturbed by the second world war that was brewing all over Europe or by the Indian independence movement that would lead to India’s independence in 1947.
Rummaged
to rubbles – that was exactly what was happening when their car alighted at the
far end of Agraharam. It was
a heart wrenching scene what with the bulldozer stomping across whatever little
was left of the ruins of Sri Lakshmi Nivas to clear way for god knows what
else.
As the
marble structure that held the inscription ‘Sri Lakshmi Nivas’ fell, many
things fell apart and cracked. One of them was Susee’s heart and her spirit to
live.
There
could not have been a worse timing to visit Agaramangudi.
Her son tried to rummage through the rubble to get his mother the marble inscription of
Sri Lakshmi Nivas, but the construction
workers forbid him from entering
the site. They said they would try and
find it for him when they cleared the place if there was indeed anything left
of it. In any case they said the chances were slim since it must
have broken unrecognizably into pieces.
It was Susee’s
heart that was now broken unrecognizably into pieces. Her soul knew that the inscription was intact, albeit
scarred, somewhere deep down in the rubble.
****
It was the year 2009. Jaanu, after being laid off from her job in London in the recession of 2008 was on a career break, back in India, biding time and tracing her roots. A travel across her grandfather’s ancestral village, she felt would be a good way to heal her while at the same time help her trace her roots.
It was the year 2009. Jaanu, after being laid off from her job in London in the recession of 2008 was on a career break, back in India, biding time and tracing her roots. A travel across her grandfather’s ancestral village, she felt would be a good way to heal her while at the same time help her trace her roots.
She rummaged about the ruins. Amidst the thorny bushes that were scratching her all over she could recognize the rusted iron circumference of the gobar gas plant that once stood at the backyard.
When tip toeing on the cement blocks which had slippery fungus grown all over them scattered among the weeds and thorny bushes she stumbled upon what she had been searching for.
Sri Lakshmi Nivas -1914
Inscribed in marble under the green and black slush filled with mud and excreta. She picked it up and cleaned it. She had
heard of how, witnessing the fall of Sri Lakshmi Vilas, had devastated Susee's spirit. She could not wait to go back and show her
ailing grandmother, what she had managed to salvage for her.
This would have made a perfect gift for Susee
for her 85th birthday.
Whitefield : 2010
‘Nee Jaanu thaney’... Susee juggled
her memory to recognize her granddaughter
. It took her a herculean effort to try and speak, perhaps to affirm to all those around her that she was
alive and well.
In the
beginning, the memory lapses were intermittent, but now the memory itself was
intermittent.
This
was perhaps one such moment.
Jaanu,
took out the marble inscription and held it out before Susee’s eyes.
Susee's eyes expanded in awe when she saw the
familiar inscription.
‘Valadu kaala eduthu vechchu vaamma ‘ ...Set your right foot ahead and step into this auspicious beginning ...echoed
an old woman’s voice.
Perhaps her memory cells struggled and brought back the memories of 1942, of Agaramangudi
where she stepped into Sri Lakshmi Nivas as a young 16 year old bride.
Perhaps not. This time it was a different
beginning, perhaps into a different world.
That
was the last time her memory cells juggled and struggled.
The
next day the doctor in the nursing home, on his daily visit scribbled on the
note pad and confirmed the last stages of dementia. After a couple of days she was declared brain dead.
Her
physical body died 9 days later.
To be concluded Z - Zephyrs of change
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