Chapter Eight

Time to Dream

Dinner those days was usually eaten early. After dinner we’d extinguish the oil lamp and light kerosene lamps instead. However, the general idea was to spend as little time awake after sundown. We were stingy about using fuel and not wanting to spend money on it ensured that the children were put to bed as early as possible. This meant we had to do our homework and our studies by daylight. It was only during exams that the one big oil lamp above the single, large, round table in the room where Achan died, was lit. All of us had to study under this lamp. If I was staying up to study, Pankajakshi would come too and study with me. The eastern side of the ‘chavadi’ or the outhouse housed Achan’s easy chair, the round table and the hanging kerosene lamp and a big wooden cupboard. There was another cupboard there and a chest from Amma’s wedding time. Half of Achan’s room was used as the ‘puja’ room. The western part is where we girls would sleep.  

Our bedroom had two cots: one with a mattress and the other with a mat spread on it. Radha, Subhadra and I slept on the bed with the mat while Chechi slept on the bed with the mattress. Though she was only two years older, she pulled rank on us. In the bed, Radha would curl up and sleep against the wall, in the middle was Subhadra and because I could sleep without stirring, I normally slept on the outer edge of the bed to ensure that no one fell off the bed.  Radha was a restless sleeper and would roll and kick mercilessly. The story goes that one-day Radha wanted to sleep next to me and wouldn’t listen to reason. In order to ensure that both sisters could sleep next to me, I slept between the two. Radha was now positioned on the outside. Not surprisingly, she rolled and fell off the bed at night and managed to lodge herself under it.  A tin can was kept there, and the sleeping beauty kept kicking the can, raising a din in the process.  Amma heard this in another part of the house and was convinced that there were dacoits announcing their presence in the village. I woke up with the noise and immediately realised what had happened. I tried to wake up Chechi and pleaded with her to light the small lamp that she so proudly owned. She had matches too. That night she absolutely refused to light the lamp and so it was in the dark that Subhadra and I got off the bed and tried to rouse Radha.  Still under the bed, little Radha opened her eyes and tried to sit up, not knowing where she was. Doing this meant that her head kept banging the bottom of the bed and the groggy girl took a while to wake up fully and crawl out from under the bed. After that day, Radha got relegated once again to her place near the wall and poor Subhadra continued to be on the receiving end of her kicks and rolls.

One night, Chechi woke me up to accompany her to the toilet, which in those days was always some distance away from the residential portions of the house. She woke up and lit her small handheld lamp. This time instead of putting out the match on the floor, she dropped it on her cotton mattress, singeing it. “Ayyo Seethe, the mattress is burning”, she called out. Even though I was still half asleep I knew exactly what to do. I just asked her to move aside and deftly, swept out the burnt portion along with some surrounding cotton onto the floor, preventing a major fire. The next day Chechi repaired the mattress and sewed it together. She was talented in sewing and cooking, both skills which did not interest me at that point.  I knew how to read poetry and sing all kinds of songs, whether devotional or film songs. Till I got married, I didn’t ever enter the kitchen. One reason for this was that Chechi took over all work related to the kitchen quite happily. After the 5th form, Chechi was married off. She took a transfer from the school and hoped to continue schooling from her new home at Ambalapuzha.

I was very popular in high school and as a result, Chechi was often referred to as my elder sister rather than referring to me as her sister. I was the class monitor and so I along with Padmavati, my classmate, would sing the morning prayers.  What I remember of Padmavati was that she was already married and would come to school wearing a sari.  I also always took part in high school sports and often won the first prize in running. Amma used to come for the school functions and whenever I got a prize from the chief guest’s hands, I’d go straight and give it to her in front of the gathering. Her face would light up with pride and happiness. For me this was my true reward, bringing joy to my selfless and sacrificing mother.

My two older brothers had to pay fees for their studies in the 5th and 6th form. The temple paid Vallyettan’s fees and Kochettan, though only 14 at that time, decided he would earn his school fees himself. First, he got hold of an old bicycle and made it functional, then he became a sales agent for a magazine vendor at Kottarakara and started distributing these to homes in the village that could afford this luxury. Cinema and entertainment magazines were welcomed by the ladies who had some cash to spare for such indulgences and his efforts managed to earn him his monthly school fees. As an agent, he got a free copy which he brought home, so all of us benefitted from the reading material including Amma, who would read in the afternoons. Soon after this, he also started distributing daily newspapers as well. Kochettan would cycle to Kottarakara after his early morning chores, bring newspapers to the village, distribute them and then attend school.

To obtain the Secondary School Certificate (SSC), examination fees needed to be paid over and above the school fees. To do this both my brothers took over a small section of the land to cultivate ginger. The idea was to grow ginger and sell the crop to pay the fees. Amma divided a small portion of the land into two separate sections for each son. I remember the following story like it happened yesterday. Both brothers set about preparing their respective portions of land for cultivation. The ginger plant needs fertilizer, and this was made from fresh leaves chopped and mixed with cow dung and ash, which was then placed at the base of the plant. Kochettan was chopping leaves when he accidentally cut off the top most segment of one of his fingers and it was left dangling from his hand. The spirit of being in competition with his brother made him rush, tie his finger back into place and resume making his fertilizer, neglecting his wound. Amma asked him to rest his hand but the thought that his brother would get a better crop than him kept him going. The wound healed, but a bent digit was something Kochettan had to live with for the rest of his life. At the end of this exercise, not only did they have enough money to pay their fees but we also had enough ginger for home consumption. 

As soon as the results of the SSC were announced, Vallyettan and Kochettan set forth to Ernakulam to try and enlist in the army. The recruiting officers realized that Kochettan was only 17 years old and hence underage. Then hearing from the boys about their home condition, they decided to take them both in on compassionate grounds. Now assured that he had been accepted into the army despite his age, Kochettan told Vallyettan that it was not wise for both of them to stay away from home. Amma had to look after five small children and should she require any help, at least one of them needed to be available. Saying this he suggested that his elder brother join college in Alapuzzha and pointed out that being younger, he still had time on his side and could continue his studies in the future. This was how Vallyettan joined Sanathana Dharma college in Alapuzzha to pursue his Diploma in Commerce. 

Kochettan’s entry into the army meant that he would get a small monthly stipend. Every month, Kochettan would send half the money home and half to Ammuma or Vallyettan for his college fees. Kochettan himself lived off the food, rations and clothes provided by the army. I once overheard him telling Amma when he was home on a holiday, that he was never able to go and watch a movie or spend any free time outside the cantonment because he had only service clothes to wear. My brother was selfless and sacrificed a lot of personal comforts to ensure that we, his family were comfortable.

Amma was more at peace now that Kochettan had started working. She was certain that her second son had taken upon himself the responsibility of caring for his siblings and she knew that he would not get married and settle down until he had ensured that the others were well placed in life. There was a quiet reassurance that life would be smoother from this point onwards. 

Chechi and I had started going to high school now. Money had started coming in.  Small loans were paid off and Amma now had the courage to take fresh loans. If we said we needed money for school, Amma would do what she could to give it to us, even if it meant taking a loan. The neighbourhood merchants were more willing to give us loans now that the old loans were being paid off regularly. Food was no longer in short supply and ready cash was more easily accessible. Finally, life was taking a turn for the better.