From: sajeev@coral.cs.jcu.edu.au (Sajeev)
Subject: Chenappady (Was Re: Malayalam Books in the U.S.)
Organization: Dept Computer Science, James Cook University, Townsville
Date: Wed, 30 Sep 92 10:55:28 GMT

In article <1992Sep26.132046.5187@crd.ge.com> joseph@c2a.crd.ge.com (joseph) writes:
>
>
>When I was at the University of Illinois, the University library
>had an impressive collection of Malayalam books.   They
>had more books than the Vaayana shaala in Chenappady had.

Is this the Chenappady near Manimala, Joseph? It is too fond a place to me.


When I hear or read about Indian villages, Chenappady will come to mind.
I haven't seen another village like Chenappady. Ever. But I live with
the feeling that all Indian villages are as rustic and innocent as
Chenappady is (was?). Narayan's Malgudi is very much like Chenappady;
that strengthens my feeling.

It must be 20 to 25 years since I have been there,
the place where my mother grew up.

From Changanacherry, we took a bus to Manimala. From Manimala, it was
another bus to Kanjirapally. On the way, we got down from the bus.
I was too young to know the place where we alighted.
But it was by the side of a river. I wish I knew the name of the river.
It must be some tributary of the Manimala river. We had to cross
the river in a ferry, and then walk.  Walk, walk and walk.

There was no bus in Chenappady. One could get there by car
after driving an hour or two through a rubber estate.
The estate and the river separated Chenappady from the rest of the world.
Very rarely did cars come to Chenappady; people there could recognize
the sound of a car from miles away.
I remember the rare occasions when my mother would ask me to be silent.
I knew she was listening to the sound of a car which I couldn't hear.
In all earnestness she would discuss with her sisters where the car
was going to, and why.

So we walked and walked and finaly came to a three way junction. There
was a big banyan tree at the centre. On one side is the Chenappady school.
One corner, there were few shops. One of them is a textile shop.
A tailor with his sewing machine sat in front. We could
buy clothes from the shop and give it to him. I remember him as
the only tailor in Chenappady.

At the three way junction, one road went to the river and to the
outside civilization. Another road went past my mothers house.
The third road went to the city. Yes, in Chenappady they called it the city.
All I can remember about the city is the few shops
including a tea shop where they sold tasty yethackaappam,
and a cinema theatre with palm leaf roof.
Films like Velutha Kathreena "played" there.

There was no electricity in my house. My grandfather wouldn't let
the house electrified. He considered electricity to be
too dangerous for places with children around. All of us children had
tiny kerosine lamps of our own. It was a prized possession.
Once it is misplaced, the night's freedom is gone. Stealing, hiding
and quarreling, all in the name of a kerosine lamp was not unusual among
the children.

We went to a nearby river for bath. Was it the same river we crossed
(and walked and walked and walked) to come to Chenappady,
or was it a different one? I didn't know, but it was nearby.
The tapioca bush was the toilet.




Chenappady must have changed in the last twenty years.
India has..so Chenappady must have.
A bridge, buses, cinema in concrete theatres,
sealed roads, electricity in every houses, toilets, bathrooms.....
Chenappady must have changed. If it has...with that I've lost my dream.........


Sajeev
Newsgroups: alt.culture.kerala