The sky above was like this when I was lying down on the terrace for my yoga session.
‘Daivathinte Kunjadukal’ is what we called it in childhood. The clusters of white clouds resembling sheep and it’s God’s Own when it’s on deep blue sky.
That was a good way to begin yoga and workout, with something reminiscence, rekindling the innocence of childhood.
Moreover, the best motivation for a strenuous but welcome workout is to be happy about it. What’s better for it than some sweet memories!
That’s when I swim here, in the river I grew up.
Most satisfying and happy to be in the water and swim forever, deeply lost in the happy memories of childhood and the many many stories around this river.
The water used to be like this or better for about 10 of the 12 months a year. But it’s good only when it rains heavily.
Now’s the time and I won’t miss it.
This particular area is named ‘vattakkayam’ meaning a round and deep water body. It’s the deepest and widest part of the beautiful river flowing down from the mountains.
And it’s right in front of the house i grew up in.
Right now it’s some 7 1/2 feet deep. The current is strong, perhaps camouflaged by the depth of the water.
As such it’s a good swim against the current.
And I must say that it aides my precious dream of wearing a six pack, the outline of which is probably seen.
The swim against the strong current certainly aides the process. And it’s a clear motivation to be swimming for over an hour alone.
Correction, I was accompanied by the many heroic and sweet childhood memories in the river.
And of course the six pack dream.
Certainly most satisfying and happy.
This is one of my earliest childhood memories, and a very special one. As far as I can remember, I used to be thrifty and careful about money. Of course, I wanted to have lots of it, but when you are 3 or even less, you don’t get to possess any.
The lowest value coin those days was the one in the picture, a one pice copper coin with a hole in the middle.
“Kaashu marathel kaikukayilla” (money doesn’t grow on trees), is a phrase that stuck with me when people speak about difficulty in making money.
I might have had a green thumb, or I was fond of planting even in those days, that I decided to try my luck in growing some money.
Secretly, I took one of my priced possessions, the ‘one paisa’ coin and went to near the cow shed where the soil could be most fertile (frankly I am not sure if I had that much of wisdom that time).
Using a knife, I made a small pit on the soil and carefully placed the coin in it. And I covered the coin with some fertile soil. Took a coconut shell with some water and watered the planted coin.
And secretly, and religiously, i watered my cultivation, twice daily for several days, in the hope of seeing the money tree growing.
I still remember the spot where I planted money, precise to at least a five feet radius.
The biggest take from this childhood innocence is the phrase getting etched on my mind. “money doesn’t grow on trees”.
“Eenampechiye kande! eenampechiye kande! Sara cheduthy was howling at top of her voice and sprinting towards the house at a speed unbelievable for her age
Sara, the elderly domestic help had gone to the giant mango tree in the compound to fetch a few of the delicious mangoes, those must have fallen from the tall tree.
Pangolin, the scaly ant eater also had similar intentions, devour a few mangoes.
Seeing Sara, the rare pangolin got frightened and assumed it’s defensive posture, of turning itself into a ball and rolled away, making an eerie noise.
The scaly appearance, the ball shape and the eerie sound had earned the rare pangolin a nickname ‘eenampechy’ which was nothing in the folklore, but reincarnation of the devil himself.
Any amount of consoling could not pacify Sara, who was convinced that bad luck would befall her for seeing the devil.
Finally, she was consoled when Anna cheduthy, another domestic help, brought the book and said a prayer to ward off the devil.
(a true childhood story, though names of the domestic helps are changed)
“Oru komban videshathu pokum” (one son will go abroad), Laadaguru, the wandering tribal doctor was brimming with expectation, when he said this looking at my mother. He was thinking about a handsome reward by using his skills of reading the face to predict future.
My mother, a devout catholic would have nothing of it. She asked me to go to her room and get a ten rupee note to send the visitor away.
I was another one brimming with plans, when the prediction was made. And naturally, I was the most disappointed when the predictions were terminated that abruptly.
‘Karumban‘ (blackie), the name my brothers coined for me had not in anyway diminished my wonderful gift of daydreaming. I was karumban not because I was that dark, but my siblings were of fair complexion.
‘I am that komban’ my imagination started working, and my hand went to my face to feel the non existent moustache. For me a komban is a muscled stud of a man with thick moustache.
First things first, and moustache would take some years, but muscles could be worked on.
There started my fitness quest, and self training for the chiseled muscles and even a six pack.
To be that komban to make the laadaguru prediction, happen.
Kurian 