Sunset at Olavipe

© Thekkanattu Parayil

Photo: Karthiki

Photo: Karthiki

Photo: Karthiki

© Thekkanattu Parayil

Irish planter, punter, soldier, playboy

My post Irish father of Indian cardamom, rubber and pepper planting on 27^th May seems to have been received well. I had concluded that article by mentioning about Murphy’s failure to enlist in the in the army during World War I because of recruitment age limit. I should have realized that he was not the type to leave it at that. From further study of the details of his life I found that by 1917, around the age of 45, he was in uniform. Apparently, he must have obtained special permission.

JJ Murphy joined Supply and Transport, the forerunner of Royal Indian Supply Corps (RIASC), now known as Army Supply Corps (ASC). He served mainly in the Persia area and, after the war, came back to Yendayar, to his beloved plantations. But apart from the estates, he started taking a keen interest in horse racing. He certainly had the Irish flare for this sport.

Around 1920, Lord Willingdon, the then Governor of Madras was on a mission to revive racing in his capital city. Murphy was one of the first to support him. To quote from KL Kershaw, “For several years he dominated the racing world of Madras. At one time he owned 22 horses under training and they carried his colours on the turf of Madras, Ootacamund, Bangalore, Poona, Bombay and Calcutta.”

On a single day, at Madras, his horses won the Governor’s Cup and four other races. Among his impressive wins were the Indian St. Leger at Poona and CN Wadia Gold Cup in Bombay. He took his “Old Orkney” to England and won the Manchester November Handicap in 1927 with Steve Donahue riding, and the Goodwood Cup in 1929.

Murphy’s other loves included the company of the fair sex, good food, and wine. And parties. Kershaw says, “For years the Murphy Ball was the main feature of the “Planters’ Week”; when JJ entertained three and four hundred guests a night. His parties for the Dublin Horse Show, for Ascot, for the Derby; his entertainments at the Savoy, at the Berkely, at St. Ann’s – his house in Ootty and elsewhere became legendary".

Suddenly, at the age of 60, Murphy called off the whirl and withdrew to Yendayar. He concentrated more of labor welfare activities of which he was a pioneer in the plantation industry. Long before the laws were passed to the effect, for his workers Murphy had permanent accommodation, piped water, sanitation, maternity wards, crèches, hospitalization, noonday meals for children, and schools. He paid his workers each of whom he knew personally, higher wages than the rest of the planters. He also introduced generous gratuity and pension schemes.

JJ Murphy was a much loved and respected man. He last visited Ireland in 1938-1939, almost two decades before his death.

Ends.

The one who ran away

Karutha (Medicine men of Olavipe) had a son, Velayudhan who was a few years elder to me. He was a nice chap and, surprisingly, liked reading. I am grateful to him because he made me interested in books. He used to get me novels from Odampally Library about three miles away from the house. The library still exists.

Two of the books that I read initially, were Emerald of Mewar and Royal Ring. Both were Malayalam translations from Hindi. They were set in Rajasthan. I was fascinated by the stories and developed a great admiration for the Rajputs, especially Rana Pratap Singh.

Velayudhan was also in the army of house servants that we had those days. Once he was asked to clean the huge china jars. It was a chore that was done before the mango season started. The jars were used to preserve curry mangoes in brine. They were classified as 2000 mangoes capacity, 3000 mangoes capacity and so on. Unfortunately the largest of them all somehow toppled and broke while Velayudhan was washing it.

This image of a China Jar is on a wall document at Thekkanattu Parayil
From a photo by Medhekar.

He ran away to escape possible punishment. For many years no body had any idea whether he was dead or alive. He did not turn up for his father’s funeral.

One day somebody informed Ammachi (Oru Desathinte Amma.) that a sick stranger was on the steps of the eastern gatehouse. Elicheduthy, who was governess to the younger children, was sent to enquire.

It was Velayudhan, almost on the verge of death. In spite of proper allopathic treatment, good care and healthy food, it took months for him to recoup. After that he was back at work.

Then one day, for no known reason, Velayudhan disappeared once more, without telling anyone. He was never heard of again.

Why did he ran away second time? Who knows!

Ends.

From the past

Some readers have showed particular interest in memories and stories about the days gone by. One I liked best among the comments on the blog and by email is from Ezee123 quoted here:

‘Nice to read your blog and the lovely details of the old times.
I have always been saying that people should write about what life was earlier sot hat the present generation could understand how life was before "today".’ Ezee123

I am listing below links to some of the posts, which fall within that category so that it will be easy for those who are interested, to locate them:

Appan.

Oru Desathinte Amma.

Medicine men of Olavipe

Chakram

Douglas DC 3, The Dakota

Some Clubs of India

Lions that guard Thekkanattu Parayil

Death of a Priest Turned Layman.

Laurie Baker - A Tribute.

Mango Memories

OLAVIPE: Heritage Home of Thekkanattu Parayil Tharakans.

A vexatious litigant.

A unique prayer.

A judgement.

World War II: MAN WHO ARRESTED ROMMEL.

Some memories of WW II, Cochin and the 1940s.

Memories: Soochi Varkey Chettan to Ravi - the Tailors of Olavipe.

Memories: Shoeless on suburban train.

Alligator Tails/Tales/Tiles.

Three predictions.

Komana Ka

The Bangalore that was, 60 years ago!

Across the black water

A Kerala Tharavad.

Going to school in a feudal era - Part 1.

An antique washing machine.

Dowsing

Please click on the titles to read.

Photo of the model of a 'churulu vallom' by Karthiki.
Click on image to enlarge.

Back to The School

As the schools reopen in Kerala after the summer holidays, ‘Padavarambu’ (see Autobiography of a School) is in the news again. Yesterday’s Malayala Manorama, the leading Malayalam newspaper, carried a feature written by K. Tony Jose on this beautiful little book that tells the story of the government lower primary school in Olavipe. This institution, which was started in 1961, is facing closure for dearth of students. This is a trend seen at many places in the State.

The alumni who were behind the publication of ‘Padavarambu’ are determined to do everything possible to keep the school open. According to the Malayala Manorama article, all the profits from the sale of the book are to be utilized for that purpose. A noble endeavor, one must say.

The report also says that there are plans afoot to translate the book into English. In fact, after seeing the post about this autobiography in my blog, Sunil K. Poolani, Publisher and Managing Editor of Frog Books, Mumbai (www.frogbooks.net, www.zzebra.net) sent me a mail that he would like to read the book. I had informed the publishers about this and suggested that they send him a copy.

It doesn’t matter who brings out the translation. The important point is that the book is published in other languages as well so that the entire world can read it. The material is that good.

Ends.

Onward, Kerala

Did you know that a group consisting of academics, corporate executives, successful entrepreneurs and other committed individuals is working for Kerala’s great leap forward? It is called Kerala Global Support Network (KGSN). These powerful people who are either of Kerala origin or are friends of Kerala are on an endeavor to bring about the State’s development. I heard about it from K.O. Isaac who is the CMD of ABL Biotechnologies Ltd.

Isaac also gave me a copy of a book, Kerala’s Economy: Crouching Tiger, Sacred Cows, which he had picked up at a meeting of KGSN in Trivandrum, Kerala’s capital, in April 2007. This volume contains papers presented on Kerala in the Global Economy: Opportunities and Challenges, at a conference at Trivandrum, in December 2005. It was organized by KGSN, Stanford Center for International Development (SCID), the Asian School of Business (ASB) Trivandrum, and TiE, (a chapter of the Indus Entrepreneur, a global organization of South Asian entrepreneurs). The theme was to look at Kerala’s development strategies in the national and international context

The book is an impressive collection of articles by eminent persons. It is edited by Sunil Mani, Planning Commission Chair Professor in Development Economics, Centre for Development Studies, Thirupanamthapuram, Kerala, India, Anjini Kochar, India Programme Director, Stanford Centre for International Development (SCID), Stanford Uiversity, California, USA, and Arun M. Kumar, Partner, KPMG LLP, Silicon Valley, USA. This is a valuable volume that should be read by all those who are interested in Kerala’s progress.

In the introduction, Arun M. Kumar strikes the right note by stating that the outlook for Kerala is positive and progressive. There are ten other well-studied presentations on economic reforms, service-led growth of Kerala, enabling environment, augmenting transport infrastructure, info-communications, electricity sector, elementary schooling, higher education, and case studies of successful entrepreneurship. The last article on the outlook for Kerala in the global economy concludes with the dogma that pragmatic action should replace ideological rhetoric.

The cover, which depicts ‘Global Migration’ by K.S. Radhakrishnan, is designed by O.P. Jayakumar.

The book is published by DC Books, Kottayam, India – 686001. Online Bookstore www.dcbookstore.com

Ends.

Also see: Autobiography of a School

Medicine men of Olavipe

During my childhood, the government apothecary at Thycattussarry was called to the house only rarely. The much respected Kuncharath Vaidyans provided medical care at our ancestral home, Thekkanatt Parayil. Members of this ancient Syrian Christian family were, traditionally, experts at Ayurveda.

Once a month or so the chief vaidyan would come to Thekkanatt and take stock of the health situation. He knew the medical history of each member of the family precisely without keeping any written records

Separate rooms and staff were maintained to provide the ayurvedic stuff that was required. We used to say that the entire area smelt of ‘nattuvaidyam’ (ayurveda). There were all sorts of fluids (kashayam), pills, powders, and pastes (lehyams) for oral consumption.

Then there were ointments (kuzhambu), pastes and various types of oils for external applications. Every Friday afternoon the children were to have oil bath. They hated the ritual mainly because they were not allowed to go outdoors after the oil bath, which meant no games.

The bathwater was heated with some medicinal leaves. The water drawn from the well was poured into a channel that ran inside to fill the large vessels in the bathroom. There was an opening on the wall, below the container, through which fire could be lighted and controlled from outside. It was necessary to maintain a particular temperature.

The responsibility to ensure that all the preparations were available was entrusted to Sanku, fair and handsome and Karutha, dark and not good-looking. Some of the items had shelf life while others had to be prepared afresh each time. Most of the herbs were available on our lands. Grandfather had a passion for medicinal and other rare plants as he had for birds and animals.

There is a story that when a particular herb was not available locally, Sanku went to the suppliers in nearby towns. None of them had it. Finally, a vaidyan told Sanku that the ingredient was available only at Thekkanatt Parayil. He even mentioned the precise location where the plant grew. Sanku tried to keep this instance of his ignorance secret, but somehow it leaked out.
Whether Sanku was present or not, Karutha, with his assistants, invariably attended to the tough job of almost incessant churning of whatever preparation was in process over fire in a large flat cauldron.

I still remember the impatience to get through with the oil bath, the smell of herbs that hung heavily in the air and the fuss about drying the hair properly. After a servant did the initial drying, either Ammachi or grandmother or one of the elder ladies of the house would check. And there was the ritual of rubbing ‘rasnadi podi’, an herbal powder, at the top of the head to ensure that no trace of moisture was left.

Only after that we would be released.

Ends.

Also see:

Oru Desathinte Amma.

The House That Grandfather Built.