Mumbai taxi stories

One Sunday evening, 1957. I was entering the gate of the guest house where I stayed in Colaba. Suddenly there was a shout from behind me. Turning around, I recognized the taxi driver who had taken a friend and me to Silver Sands Beach that morning.

The man got out of the vehicle holding up a tiny but very expensive camera and I got a jolt. I had borrowed it from a friend for the outing and had left it behind in the taxi without realizing it.

It was such a great relief when the driver handed the camera over to me. He explained that he had been waiting for me for a long time and I should pay him the meter charge. That was about 40 rupees. I gave him 100 rupees.

1970. I engaged a taxi for the whole day. The vehicle was spic and span. The driver was a well groomed elderly person with a cultured voice. On the way back to the hotel at night we got to talking.

What he told me about him was so fascinating that years later I wrote a brief short story based on it titled A Tyreseller. It won a prize in the Unisun-British Council short story competition. Click on the link below to read it.

Now, the 21^st century.

Five years back my wife and I reached Mumbai by train. Because of a communication muddle the vehicle for us waited at Dadar and we went on to Chatrapathi Shivaji Terminus (formerly Victoria Terminus).

We took a taxi for the long haul to Ghatkopar. After about a hundred meters the car stopped and a goon looking chap got in front. The driver said the man was his brother.

After a while the non-driving brother pulled out a bottle from under the seat. The contents could have been water or colorless alcohol. They started drinking, passing the bottle from one to the other. I felt uncomfortable but kept quite. I had no mobile phone to contact anyone.

After Bandra the driver took us east, driving trough some remote areas for about two hours. Finally he dropped us off about 5kms from our destination saying the car had run out of patrol, and demanded Rs.2000. He settled for Rs.1400 which, I told him was all that we had. I managed to note down the taxi number though the goons tried to prevent me.

A passing autorickshaw driver had stopped by and was watching all these. While taking us to the address where we were staying he told us that the fare from CST would not have been more than Rs.400. He insisted that we should complain to the police.

Mumbai had changed so much!

The story had a satisfactory end, though. I contacted somebody I knew in the government. Within twenty four hours the goons were apprehended and the entire money was returned. Out of that I entrusted Rs.500 to the policemen and told them to give the taxi driver what was fair.

Well !

Also see:

A Tyreseller.

Memories: Shoeless on suburban train.

Kerala architecture: Mansion of the Marquises

Padippura malika (gatehouse) front view.

Gatehouse side view.

Main house front view.

Main house side view.

Photos taken by me on October 18, 2008. Copyright reserved.

Click to enlarge.

Into this ettukettu were born the two Marquises, both brothers, of the Parayil Family - Avira Varkey Tharakan (1836-1905) K.C.S.S, K.C.S.G. and Hormis Tharakan (1842-1904) K.C.S.S., K.C.S.G.

It is Puthenveettil Parayil, the first of the Parayil Family houses at Ezhupunna. Even though nearly two centuries have passed since it was built, the house is still known as Puthenveettil (New House).

Another ettukettu was built for the younger brother, Hormis. Between the two mansions is the St. Raphael’s Church (1859).

This building is almost identical to the Velliara Parayil house shown in

A Kerala Tharavad.

Also see:

Kerala Architecture: Another Parayil heritage home

Is your language dying?

A New York Times report on September 19, 2007 by JOHN NOBLE WILFORD states that half the 7000 existing languages might become extinct in this century. Does your mother tongue come under this category?

What brought my attention to this matter is an email discussion by some friends that was copied to me. It reflects the widespread apprehension that Malayalam, the vernacular of Kerala might be endangered.

The main reason for this fear is the apparent neglect of Malayalam by many Keralites. They prefer to send their children to English medium schools. Their line of thinking is obvious - a good command of spoken and written English would brighten the career opportunities for the younger generation.

My siblings and I studied in local schools. That gave us a good grounding in Malayalam. Then we went on to learn English. At home we spoke only Malayalam. I don’t think we missed any opportunities because of this.

Conditions are different now, of course. For nonresidents, in their interaction with others - in school, among friends, at workplace and in the daily chores – the mother tongue can hardly be used. At home too many prefer to talk in English.

There is some logic in parents accepting the situation. They themselves were probably educated in the English medium and find it easier to communicate in that language. Also, they might feel that it could help the children to improve their English.

On the other hand, they could be missing much. The Malayalam language, for instance, is rich in all forms of literature – poetry, short stories, novels, nonfiction. Kerala’s book publishing industry seems healthy, launching about 100 titles a month. The writers are making money. Many periodicals and newspapers have high circulation.

What then, is wrong? Perhaps the age group of the readers, though no reliable data is available. One rarely sees a young man with a Malayalam book. Sometimes, though a senior citizen, I get curious looks when carrying a Malayalam book while traveling.

A language dies for two reasons. The first is when its functionality declines. That means a tongue becomes irrelevant in a particular area if it cannot be used effectively there. It fades into the background and is activated only for occasional ethnic social events or on visits home. This is so true in the case of expatriates.

Secondly, a language cannot survive when it is unable to cope with the fast changing requirements of the evolving global village and remains static. Sanskrit and Latin are classic examples of this.

English, on the other hand, is considered to be the ‘killer’ language that threatens the existence of other tongues. Even the French are afraid of this British invasion. How did English attain and maintain such an increasingly predominant position?

It keeps growing continuously by absorbing many new words from several other languages. Then again, it gets adapted regionally. As a result, today we have so many geographical versions of English that are in active use and are well accepted. No other language can claim such flexibility.

A 2007 study sponsored by the Living Tongues Institute for Endangered Languages and the National Geographic Society identified five areas globally where the original languages are fast vanishing.

India is not in that group. At least not yet.

Ends.

References:

1) Languages Die, but Not Their Last Words

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/09/19/science/19language.html

Accessed on Nov. 3, 2008

2) How Languages Die. Salikoko S. MUFWENE, University of Chicago

http://humanities.uchicago.edu/faculty/mufwene/publications/HOW_LANGUAGES_DIE.pdf

Accessed on Nov.3, 2008.

Also see:

Going to school in a feudal era

http://parayilat.blogspot.com/2007/04/going-to-school-in-feudal-era-part-1.html

Autobiography of a School

Photos: Wild berries

Photographs: Top AT, Bottom, KO Isaac.
Copyright reserved. Click to enlarge.

Heron’s Pool: A town, a house, a book and a ship

The town. Mundakayam is just starting to come on the tourism map of Kerala. It is a flourishing town on National Highway 220, almost halfway between two popular tourist spots – Kumarakom and Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary.

Many places of great interest to travelers are easily accessible from Mundakayam. The natural beauty of the areas surrounding the town can be gauged by the fact that over a hundred movies have been shot there. It is also the entry point to Kerala’s High Ranges and the plantations.

Mundakayam is prosperous place and the people have a distinctive way of life. But !50 years back it was a thick forest inhabited by hill tribes. In 1843 Pastor Henry Baker ventured into the area where no white man had ever set foot before.

He found a number of herons nesting around a quiet pool and named the place Heron’s Pool. Translated to Malayalam, the local language, it became Mundikayam>Mundakayam (Mundi=heron, kayam=pool).

Many other sahibs followed Baker to seek their fortune in planting – tea, rubber, coffee, spices. The most famous among them was the Irishman J.J. Murphy.

The house. The quaint bungalow was the residence of the well-known planter and industrialist, late Jose Kallivayalil (my maternal uncle). Many important personages including political bosses, top officials, British nobility, and other nationalities had enjoyed Kallivayalil’s legendary hospitality there. Now his son Chacko and his charming wife Sheila have converted the place into a home stay with the name Heron’s Pool.

What is amazing about the 70+ year-old building is the amount of teak and rosewood with intricate work used on the walls, flooring, trellis, and furniture. The eight feet long dining table is made from a single piece of teak! The food there has been traditionally good.

Given below is a photo of the front veranda:

Photo by me. Copyright reserved. Click to enlarge.

The bungalow has a lovely cobbled nadumuttam (inner courtyard) with a large guava tree in the center. On one side is a veranda which can be used as a stage for cultural events.

The house is nestled in a plantation that has several types of cash crops. It is on NH 220, about 3 kilometers east of Mundakayam Town. Next to it is the Mundakayam Club established by J.J. Murphy in 1912. You can visit the website http://www.heronspool.com/

The book. ‘Above the Heron’s Pool’ (ISBN 0 907799515) by Heather Lovatt & Peter de Jong is an interesting book which deals with the history of the High Ranges. Heather had lived in the area for many years. She has also written a reference book on the subject, titled ‘A Short History of The Peermade/Vandiperiyar District’ (CMS Press, Kottayam. 1979).

The ship. SS Heronspool was freighter of Ropner Shipping Company. In a valiant night engagement with the German submarine U48 off the Irish Coast she was torpedoed on 12^th October 1939.

Ends.

Also see Irish father of Indian cardamom, rubber and pepper planting

Kerala Photos: Flowers and leaves

Photos taken by me at Lotus Club, Cochin.

Copyright reserved. Click to enlarge.

Also see:

Kerala photos: Leaves from Olavipe

Breadfruit (Artocarpus altilis) – food from the Bounty

It is said that Lieutenant William Bligh of HMS Bounty discovered breadfruit trees in Malaysia and Polynesia towards the end of the 18^th century. He felt that it might be a good source of cheap food for the slaves, collected samples and introduced them in other tropical areas.

For thousands of years the Polynesians were using preserved breadfruit as food during their long sailings. They used planks of the tree for boatbuilding and the latex from the tree for caulking boats.

Breadfruit is a staple food in many tropical areas. The tree can grow up to 20m height. It is a prolific producer yielding about 200 fruits per season. The fruit can be boiled, baked, curried, sautéed or made into paste.

But I like them best as thinly cut and fried chips.

The first two photos below are from Olavipe (Copyright reserved). The other two are public domain pictures from Wikimedia Commons. Click on the images to enlarge.

Also see:

Tamanu oil for skin restoration and regeneration and scar removal.