The Mundu story

One fine day I was intimated that I need to turn up in traditional/Ethnic  wear for the Diwali Celebrations scheduled in office.  This made me wonder if I could wear the ever Effervescent Mundu (the official attire of the state of Kerala) to office on that day. Owing to the fact that it was a Multinational Company and since it was in Mumbai which was pretty far from Kerala there had been absolutely no opportunity for me to don this attire. I had always longed to come to office in Mundu one day just for namesake at least and this was a golden opportunity that I did not want to miss. I was a bit sceptical about the whole thing since a lion’s shares of my colleagues in office are North Indians.

All my thoughts went out of the backdoor once I wore the Mundu and stood in front of the mirror. I really said to myself come what may I am going to office dressed like this.  For a brief moment of time I was taken back in time to my college days where I used to turn up in college in the same way for Onam celebrations ,those wonderful memories flashed through my mind in a second and suddenly I was a transformed to a totally different individual.

A lot of eyebrows were raised when I entered office as expected most of them had turned up in Sheruvanis, Kurthas, Lehengas, Saris and the like I was the odd one out in Mundu but I really didn’t care much  it was my day today . As I walked in I was welcomed by the prying eyes of my Boss. I smiled at him and managed to convince him by telling him that we were told to come in ethnic wear today and since I am from the southern part of the country this is the ethnic wear over there. Thanks to SRK and Chennai Express everyone in my office thought that I was wearing a lungi. I had to had to go to great lengths to explain to every Tom, Dick and Harry that I was not wearing a lungi but rather a Kasavu Mundu (a cream colour Mundu with a golden border) which is the official attire in my state of Kerala .  As a matter of fact (not sure if it is followed nowadays ) it is mandatory in all Government  Offices that once in a week that all the employees  have to turn up in the traditional attire ie in a Mundu or Sari.  

On a lighter note all sorts of questions were thrown at me like“how I would climb the stairs wearing  a mundu ?”  to “How do I ride my bike in a mundu ? “ “How would I manage the cold in my office since it is cooled by a centralised A/C ? ”. All I had to say to them was that I have been wearing the Mundu since I have been 15 and all these are just natural for me. But got to say this I had a tough time to keep myself warm in office the simple reason being I have never worn the Mundu to someplace where there is an a/c.   And boy the rush that I got when I folded the mundu above my knees cannot be put into mere words. To understand the significance of that simple action you need to be a malayalee. For starters it is similar to the alpha male in Malayalam movies who folds his Mundu above his knees before he bashes up the villains he also gets to do that before he walks in slow motion after saying a punch dialogue in the movie. In reality it is done for the freedom of movement so that your natural movements are not restricted but we glamorise these things to a different level altogether. This so called Mundu is no laughing matter, in a Malayalee guy’s life it has a huge importance. In my case I wore the Mundu for the first time in my 10 th standard during my farewell at school and my Mom gifted me a Kasavu Mundu for the occasion, I still have that with me. It is difficult for me to believe now that I have not worn the Mundu in Public in the past six years (wearing a lungi at home is totally different) primarily because I have been out of Kerala since my college. By now I guess you might have understood why wearing the Mundu to office today was such a big deal for me.

Moving on to the Diwali celebrations I could see people in different attires representing  different cultures it  gave me a glimpse of the Unity in diversity of our country.  I felt special owing to the fact that I was the only one who represented my state of Kerala. And it felt to be great to be donned in your traditional attire in a place which is no way near your home state.

Memories #1

Epilogue:

The following is my article that appeared in my School magazine Loyolite 95 of Loyola School Trivandrum I am reproducing the same here. It was written by me when I was in my fifth standard . Today when I read it I don’t find anything special in it but considering the fact that it was written by a 10 year old I feel that it was a pretty good effort. In a way it marked the beginning of me as a writer. The thing that amazes me the most to this day is how my mother managed to convince me to invest so much time on something, after all you can guess how much attention span a kid of that age does have.  Even today a huge turn off for me to sit and write is the amount of time that I need to spend on to get my thoughts onto paper, I dread the editing part even more. Editing these days is far more easier since I use a laptop . It is easy to cut and delete stuff when you use a laptop. I shudder when I think as to how I got it done as a kid.

DADDY

Mr and Mrs Bruno had two little children Angelo and Ambrose. They loved their parents very much. Early morning Daddy would go horse riding and Mummy would cook breakfast. Daddy would go to office and Mummy would go to the welfare center after sending the children to school. Daddy returned late late in the evening and the children would wait at the door .Angelo would take the official IPS cap and the baton while Ambrose would take the gun and shout “Hands up”. Dad would tell “My son that is loaded”. “Were Angelo and Ambrose good boys ?” asked Mr Bruno “Yes Daddy” they replied . Then Daddy would place Ambrose on his shoulder and Ambrose would tell his father “I am taller than you” (it turned out to be prophetic he is 6 feet 3 inches now). Angelo is also not happy. He too wishes to be on his father’s shoulder. Mr  Bruno takes him in his arms and the two children are happy and laugh for a long time...

...In this way eight years passed happily . Daddy has got transferred to another place . It has three and a half years since he has got leave. The government is very strict. No person is allowed to cross the border . Poor mummy and children and are waiting for the visa. How long will it take ? No idea.

Prologue:

Today as I read this I can very much see the heart of a 10 year old who was yet to come in terms with the sudden demise of his father. I pen these lines on the 21^st death anniversary of my Dad and the pain is more or less the same. The other day I was telling my brother that contrary to belief that something fades with the passage of time in my case the pain is still there if not more. I would like to add that different people react to death differently. I still remember vividly my brother’s response to a question during his UKG interview he was hardly 5 years old then. The interviewer a priest and the Principal of the school asked him where his father was and he innocently replied “In heaven” I . At that time I was 11 years old and I was too stunned to even think when I heard the question in the first place. Moving on many years later Mrs Deepa Pillai (DP) the editor of the magazine at that time had written in my scrap book during the time of me leaving school “I still remember the contribution that you made in the school magazine as a little boy, I wish and pray that you end up a good writer one day” . Till date I consider it to be the biggest compliment that I have received on my writing because she is the finest English teacher to have ever taught me .

More similar posts Memories #2 A tribute to my Father

Onam Memories

Every passing year that you spend away from your hometown you start missing it less and less Onam is also no different for me. The other day I was doing some shopping here in Mumbai for vegetables  among other things for  the upcoming Onasadya(a traditional  malayali feast on a banana leaf) on Thiruonam(Main Onam day). It was reminiscent of my days in Thiruvanathapuram when we used to go to Chala Market or Palayam market(something like Dadar) to do the Onam shopping.  The hustle and bustle during the entire process would leave you totally drained out, it is like shop till you drop where you shop for vegetables and other items for the sadya during Onam days. The irony today is that I need to purchase a banana leaf from a shop which I would have taken from my backyard if I was at home. The extravagant Onasadya which included 28 dishes  and 3 different  Payasams (a form of dessert) at my home served on Thiruonam day is mouth-watering.  Not only the Onasadya but rather the entire process in totality ie the preparations and the run up to Thiruonam day is something truly amazing.

But whatever it is the best onam celebration that I have had was during my Engineering college days. The Onam celebrations at college were in a league of its own. Every year the college union would make sure that it was better then the previuos one. The main event of the day would be the Pookalam competition (a carpet of flowers made up in a particular design on the floor similar to a Rangoli) . The first step would be the finalising of the design for the Pookalam the next step is the procuring of Flowers from the Chala market , we guys go there  a day or two before the designated date and make arrangements for procuring the required flowers. It is not easy as it sounds it includes walking the length and breadth of the market to look for a place which will give us the best quality of flowers at the best price. 

                       Picture Courtesy: Mary Ann

 
On the  D day the classroom would be a beehive of activity .All sorts of things would be going on ranging from the cleaning of the class to the clearing of Bench and desks drawing of the blueprint(courtesy the artists from our class) getting the flowers ready and so on . The beauty of it is everyone chips in with something or the other. If my memory serves me right we have never won the competition but its been a wonderful experience all along . The joy is in participating I remember during our first year it was the through the Onam day celebrations that we got to know each other.  The camaraderie and the bonhomie in the class is worth mentioning here the entire class works like a single body and a single mind.  Now when I look back all those memories evokes nostalgia in me. Most often than not I would be at the helm when it comes to the organisation of these events and believe me guys the experiences that I had is something that I would cherish forever in my life .I miss wearing the Mundu (traditional attire for men in Kerala similar to a dhoti) its been quite some time since I have worn one .  On the day of the Onam celebrations the girls turn up in Sarees and the guys in Mundu the entire class makes up for a wonderful collage.

                               Picture Courtesy: Mary Ann

 
I guess my Onam memories revolve around my college,  moving on let me describe how my City Thiruvananthapuram celebrates the festival. The week before the festival the entire city would be bustling with people who are engaged in Onam shopping. The main commercial centres of East Fort , chala etc are jam-packed. It is a known fact that it is during the Onam season that the maximum shopping takes place in Kerala during the entire year. And because of this all the commercial establishments are competing with each other for giving offers to the consumers . The run up to the festival is huge but the best is saved till the days of Onam. The entire city will be lit up every other building including the Secretariat and the Legislative assembly. There would be cultural programs in different locations in the city. Notable ones is the fair at Kanakunnu palace and at East fort(similar to the Bandra fair in Mumbai). The entire city would bear a festive mood. Another important event is the colourful procession with Chendamelam (a percussion instrument),Pulikalli (tiger dance), colourful tableaus(similar to the ones in Republic  Day Parade) through the busy MG road during one of these days  During the days of Onam in the main city the general public would be mostly on the streets especially after 6 PM you can see the city transform like anything.

 Whatever I have described here are the experiences that I had during the Onam season in Thiruvananthapuram. Things might not be the same nowadays since I have not been in Kerala during the Onam festival for the past 6 years.  I have stayed in different cities in India and have witnessed different festivals in all their spirit and grandeur, each one is unique in its own way.  But I have got to say this, the city of Thiruvananthapuram and its Onam celebrations will always have a special place in my heart. I guess it might be because I have spent a good part of my life there.  

                                                           Picture Courtesy: Bijo Thomas


Once I had left Thiruvananthapuram the Onam celebration have been mostly silent for me. One memorable Onam was in Delhi where I had gone to Kerala House for an Onasadya with my malyali friends we had a whale of a time over there since it was the first time in months that we had tasted Kerala food .  During the initial years I would be longing to go back to my hometown during Onam.  But as I mentioned earlier as years pass you tend to learn to adjust to it among many things. Still at times I miss being in my hometown during Onam. This Onam would be no different for me as I will be in office on Thiruonam day as usual.  Maybe I’ll take a half day leave and go home for the Onasadya that my Mom is preparing.  I guess you can take the Malayali out of Kerala but never the 'Malayali'ness out of one.

An Inspiring Teacher

This is an article that appeared in the Golden Jubilee Souvenir of my Alma mater Loyola School Trivandrum, Kerala sometime back * .

*In case you are not able to read from the photo scroll down for plain text of the same. 

It was after 5 years that I was going to meet Mrs Aleykutty Joseph, the teacher who had inspired me the most. She had made known to a lot of my friends, her desire to meet me, but due to some reason or other I couldn’t visit her. She welcomed me with her trademark stare, the fifteen year old in me awoke and my knees went weak. To tell you the truth my first reaction on seeing her was to run away. Her eyes melted and she said ”You were one of those students who called me mother. What took you so long to come and meet me my child?”. I went numb in my heart and didn’t know what to say. After the initial hiccup, we started to talk. She enquired about me, my family, and my work. We talked about our old days in Loyola and how our life had changed since then. I suddenly realised that whatever things happened in my life or around me in this world all these years didn’t matter to me at that moment. During the course of the conversation, I was the same old devoted pupil listening attentively to what my Teacher was saying. At that instant, I felt that she had always been close to my heart and the same was with her as well. To my misfortune, I found out that I was still very much scared and tongue tied in front of her, even though ten years had gone by since I had passed out of the class of which she was in charge of. Some things never change; it was worth seeing the look of astonishment in the faces of her grandchildren when I mentioned this. When it was time for me to leave she hugged me, I touched her feet and bid adieu.

As I was walking down the stairs I was very much overwhelmed and my eyes welled up with tears. I couldn’t explain what was happening to me then. That set on a train of thoughts in me. What made Mrs Aleykutty so special? What was it that made her leave an indelible mark in my life as well as in that of many others? First and foremost would be her dedication to what she was doing. To her, the 42 students of her class were her very own, no matter what. Her main aim was to see to it that every one of her students succeeded. For her there was no X or Y- all were the same. In her we saw a doting mother. It was not just about scoring marks, she also wanted us to evolve into well rounded individuals who were successful in all aspects of life. I believe that at some point or the other, every one of her students had received advice from Mrs Aleykutty on improving themselves, and how to be on the right track without losing focus of their ultimate goals.

If we guys start taking things too lightly, or didn’t take our work seriously, she would get very angry. It was this anger that each and every one of us feared the most. Without a doubt, most of you might me nodding in agreement. I remember once, when during a free period, all of us were creating a ruckus and wandering about in the corridor. We were waiting for our class leader to come back and announce it as a games period. Someone spotted Mrs Aleykutty at the end of the corridor, all hell broke loose and all of us scampered back to our respective benches and desks. It was evident from the look on her face that she wasn’t amused at all. She asked us if she were a Tiger or a Lion for all of us to react the way we just did, we didn’t have an answer to that and our class leader had a huge smile in his face. His joy, of course, was short lived because Mrs Aleykutty had given him a earful for not informing her about the free period.

Mrs Aleykutty had always been a strict disciplinarian and a hard taskmaster, which explains my apprehension I had felt at the beginning of our meeting. She had always appeared to me as a strong willed character, who at the same time was very loving and caring as well. She was a no-nonsense person and was always in control of all of us whenever she was in charge. That was exactly the reason why she commanded the respect and awe of a bunch of fifteen year olds who wouldn’t heed to anything at that time. In spite of all this, every single one of her students knew that behind this tough exterior, she was a concerned mother to all the 42 students in our class. In fact only later on in life did most of us realise the pains she took to make us all succeed.

She imbibed in us a strong value system and the importance of being humble. I remember once she said to me that you need to be a good human being first and the rest will follow. It was not as if she was just preaching but rather she showed it to us through her everyday life. But she was also, in all respect, tough as nails. Her strong work ethics and hardworking nature had touched us all. Whatever situation you put her into she always was on top of and in total control of it. That has been something that I have learnt from her and tried to emulate.

As we move forward in our journey of life, it is teachers like this, who inspire you to go the extra mile. The training that one receives in childhood is that which moulds and defines what that individual will turn out to be. I was fortunate enough to be under the tutelage of many teachers in Loyola who worked tirelessly day in day out to ensure that all of us came out in flying colours .I have also realised that being a teacher is not an easy task, it is one of the most toughest professions in the world .Though I have mentioned only Mrs Aleykutty in this article I take this opportunity to remember with gratitude all my teachers in Loyola who have played a vital role in the development of countless number of students like me . I would like to sign off by quoting Nikos Kazantzakis “Ideal teachers are those who use themselves as bridges over which they invite their students to cross, then having facilitated their crossing, joyfully collapse, encouraging them to create bridges of their own” 

The writer who belongs to the SSLC batch of 2001 is currently working for British Telecom (BT), Mumbai

Another article that appeared in the school magazine during my final year

P.S: If you liked this article check out my other posts in similar lines Mitochondria; English lessons, We are the underdogs, Challenge, The lunch break