Finding my roots and holding on to it.

IMG_0893, originally uploaded by Pranay Rao.

As a kid I always remembered the last day of my vacations in Kerala when my grandfather after delaying/re-scheduling our tickets back home would finally condescend to allow us to go back home. Then he would stand at the platform with tears in his eyes watching us go away. It broke my heart each time.

In the 8 years post his death I've just gone to our house in Pathnapuram once. I also had to pay my last respects to my uncle, whose funeral I did not attend last year. Something I will regret forever. Anyway the house looks the same, though the surroundings have changed. The paddy fields across the road have vanished. They have been filled in so that they can be sold as non agricultural land, much more valuable but not half as beautiful. Consequently the stream near the paddy fields has been walled in. The stream for most part of the year used to be the paddy farmers best friend and occassionally a bad spell of monsoon would cause floods which would destroy the same paddy fields which it had watered all year round.

A recent article quoted to me said that Indian and Chinese people are resillient thanks to the paddy they grow. Standing in knee deep water, ensuring that the paddy stays seperated is tough work. The modern labourer of Kerala doesn't like to do this work any longer.

Every Kerala house generally has a small little outhouse. In the days of old, rubber sheets used to be created here. Behind it was this wild piece of land where my grandfather would grow everything from jackfruit, tapiocca, bananas to cashewnut and grapefruit. My granny has cleared up this space and now rubber saplings have been planted interspersed with teak and mahogany trees. The saplings will take another 4 years to mature says granny before she can begin tapping them for rubber milk.

The driveway is still strewn with pebbles taken from a river bed nearby. They now lead to an empty garage. The beautiful mark 2 ambassador sold off years back. The cost of maintaining it and the difficulty in finding a driver means my granny is dependent on local cabs who she calls up. She anyway keeps moving between Ppuram and her flat in Kochi and our home in Mumbai. Kochi provides security (the flat is in my uncle's hospital) and convenience but she can hardly stay away from her estate. Each brick in the wall, she says was selected by her personally. Leaving her home is not an option.

The grand old house is no longer the biggest in Pathnapuram. The position has been long taken away by huge palatial bungalow's made with 'gulf' money. Some look beautiful, resplendent in Kerala architecture. Some are gaudy eyesores. Guess the gulf money can't bridge the gulf in class :).

This small little vacation with maa, dad, nephew, sis and bro - in - law has been most wonderful. Has seriously made me consider a move to Mumbai. Chintu and Kau have been driving the same point into my head from some time. Driving down from flags to home after a plate of Alfredo corn Nachos listening to songs at full blast felt great. It was more than a drive post dinner. It was a drive down memory lane.

A lot of emotions, a lot of experiences in this trip. Just a day to go and I have the same feeling in my tummy which I felt while watching my grandpa at the platform.

Happiness with a tinge of sadness,

Pranay Rao