Answering
to natures call is a routine thing nowadays. There are attached
bathroom cum water closet for every room. But in the Payyanur of the
past it was another matter altogether. I remember the long queue of
elders at Mundoommal School on all mornings. There were four modern
toilets constructed by the panchayath which revolutionalised the
practice of answering the natures call before day light breaks in.
Every house had a small area covered with trees and shrubs which
could be used by the women folk in times of emergency. There was
palvalappu where one could frequent even at noon time. Attending the
call at night time was really a night mare. Electricity was yet to
emerge and the only light source was a leaf torch or kerosene lamp
which will cast shivering shades on every object and will project
imaginary figures on walls. The stories the elders present at night
were all about ghosts and supernatural events. I had never heard a
story from them which inspires a young mind. Instead they terrorized
every young mind with ghost stories. Besides, there was the real
danger of snakes which were in plenty at that time. The ordeal
becomes unthinkable in rainy season.
Our
house was a three storied structure in mud, stone and wood, the
memory of which will bring forth euphoric episodes rushing up. The
ground floor consisted of the kottilakam, the sacred room, were
ancestors are believed to reside, the padinhatta, the abode of gods,
the fuming kitchen and a long corridor which connects these rooms to
the chayippu, the room for ladies. while they are in the ‘forbidden’
days of menstruation, the ladies disappears into the darkness of
these rooms and at meal times they are provided with the ration from
the kitchen without touching them, in separate plates. (They are
accepted as human beings only on the fourth day after the holy
ablutions and after wearing the washed cloths from the vannathi
lady). There were also rooms for child birth and store rooms. In
addition there was a raised platform facing the western side were one
could enjoy the evening winds. The only problem is the smell from the
aala, the cow shed. The first floor is separated from the ground
floor by a horizontal wooden door at the end of the staircase. There
were two large bed rooms and another room for drying paddy. A long
and airy corridor was used sometimes for drying cloths. There was a
wooden ceiling for this floor also. The third floor is exclusively
for bats and other small animals who will make the nights horrible
with their whispers and cries, mimicking the ghosts in the stories of
elders.
In
our compound also there was a mini forest on the southeast side which
was used by the family members for answering the nature’s calls.
This was a very natural affair as the shit of one day will
metamorphosis into a heap of earth the next day. By the week end it
will disappear altogether. Our mischievous uncle who was living with
his family a few yards away will sometimes clear fell the forest all
of a sudden without our knowledge putting us all in trouble the next
day. I clearly remember one such day. I was teaching in a parallel
college at that time and I had to take a class at 10 am . I was
distressed to see my vanished forest and I thought of relieving on
the way at Mundoommal school. But when I reached there, there was a
queue and I had no option but to postpone the call till evening. I
travelled to pazhayangadi and attended the class at Nalanda College
with some difficulty as the call was frequently reminded and tension
prevailed as there were no toilets in the neighborhood. After one
hour the tension intensified and I feared something terrible to
happen. Fortunately the second hour was free and on the pretext of
taking a cup of tea, I came out and headed straight to Madaippara
which was deserted at that time of the day. I was running to find out
a secluded place. Once I found a corner with no eyes to peep on, I
relieved myself and for the first time in my life I felt what bliss
means. After that came the vital question. I have to clean myself.
The tank in Madippara was a very old one constructed by the Jews in
another century and venturing into it is unthinkable. I was much
relieved by the sight of a small hole filled with water from rains. I
returned to the college in time for the next class.
There
is also a tail piece. That poverty stricken childhood appear to have
taken place in another life. Now all friends who were part of that
general famine are prosperous. Some have built fabulous houses with
modern toilets and bath tubs. No one believes the old tale. But
everyone complains of constipation. The irony is that when toilets
became plenty motion has become scarce.
