Aetty's Funeral Ceremony - July 2, 2024, Wednesday

Well, I began writing this as a P.S. but it got so lengthy that I decided to share it separately. 

It was so gracious of the sisters, as well as our family, to think of postponing the funeral to suit my convenience. I would not have imagined that they would do that. 

I was amazed at the array of people who turned up - first of all, very happy that good many of our cousins - from Ammachi's side and from Ummamma's side from Vaikom - turned up. Then Palakkappilly-Payyappilly family was very prominently represented. There were also people from Perumanur like Njarackaveli, Kalathiveettil, Thekkanath groups - turning up. People who worked with her, who benefitted from her ministry - the sisters told - several of them, by word of mouth conveyed the news and managed to come and pay her respects. 

I would rather have said a vote of thanks on behalf of all of us, than preach a funeral homily. But I thought of making the best of the situation.  But then, the first reading about the just (wo)men (Wisdom Chap. 3) was somehow missed when Lischechi beautifully read out the first reading.  So my vital link was lost. But I decided not to get worked up because of that.  

My preoccupation was Aetty's painful last few years of retired lifealmost clouding her buoyant early years of joyful ministry. I tried to take solace in the Wisdom saying, and also to realise that the ageing-related dispositions are not always within one's control - it is like an illness, happening to you, and you are suffering, while others are also put to some amount of suffering unwittingly. 

Aetty felt that her hearing loss and sight were not given adequate attention, and perhaps, those being addressed, she could still lead her fiercely independent life. 

AETTY - THE ENTHUSIAST

I felt sorry to see her emaciated figure. Whenever she came home, she was a figure of action at home, and at the church, a figure of impeccable grooming and prayerfulness. But I have only a span of about 8 years for such experience, as after leaving home in 1980, there was hardly any occasion for me to be there at home when Aetty stayed, barring those rare days of my visit to Chalakkudy/Maradu/Perinthalmanna when Aetty was a visitor there.  Our home, with so many of us around, was relatively cleaner place when compared to similar houses in our circle those days. But when Aetty arrived, a new level was reached in cleanliness and orderliness - that is my impression.  She was trying to replicate the convent culture there. 

She was an enthusiastic person. And she went about doing good, after her Master (Act 10:39), especially for the poor, after the great Saint Elizabeth of Hungary, whose namesake she was. Enthusiasm is also explained as a combination of the Greek terms 'en' and 'theos', which means 'being IN GOD'.  And that is what a Christian or a religious person is supposed to be, drawing energy from the inexhaustible source of energy.

The array of the church people visiting Aetty was remarkable - from the Jesuits:  the new provincial,  brother of Sr Iris, is very well known to Aetty; but he could not come as he was taking charge anew, and had sent many of his confreres.  OCDs in the neighbourhood - a few of them came and prayed. Former members of SD convent Perumanur came in a group - most likely because of Paul's network with them. There was a routine contigent from CRI (Conference of Religious Institutions) led by my good friend, presently general Councillor, Rev. Fr Biju Vadakkel CMI. 

Sr Suni DHM, once upon a time my younger colleague, read out a comprehensive picture of Aetty's life.  The last rites and the solemn mass were led by the Auxiliary Bishop of Varapuzha Antony Valungal(?), ably assisted by the Vicar General Fr Mathew Velathinkal?  The Bishop's introduction was also a very comforting and inspiring one and there was hardly anything left to be said, I felt. There was a very senior priest, Fr Antony...., and the chaplain Fr Titus (formerly parish priest of St. Joseph, Thevara) read the gospel.  And I preached the homily, drawing inspiration from Vavachayan's reflection on Jesus' death leading to the proclamation by the centurion: Indeed, he was a Son of God!  Aetty's death was the final victory - a smooth passing over to the new world, soaked in prayer. Two days of accompaniment by many, including the closest of her relatives, and to smoothly glide into that timeless state. (They recalled Saju's timely intervention, helping her to regurgitate, leading to great ease before that final easement.) Ummamma was fortunate to be supported by Ammachi and Aetty to pass to the next world. I think Aetty was much more fortunate, with her sister nuns as well as almost all of us family beside her in those last hours. 

I would look at Aetty's 80 plus years with great happiness - having seen 1000 full moons (81 years) itself is considered in our tradition a great milestone. I think that part she achieved with great sobriety.  Her early phase was of hard struggle against the odds, making oneself a self-made person, skilled and earning one's livelihood. The occasion to be attracted to Vimalayam is still a mystery to me - though the sisters recounted her occasion to come to Vimalayam for industrial skill training and then being pulled in that direction. Perhaps, the charisma of Sr Treesamma (whom Aetty used to call Miss Treesamma, after the style they had adopted for the congregation as such) also had a role. Then after the short period of training came, here 3 to 4 decades long enthusiastic work with various communities - chiefly, I would say Kottayam, Trivandrum, Kara and Gothuruth.  Apparently the last two decades was marked with being under the influence of the charismatic movement and consequent biblical devotion -  some practices appearing to be stupid to normal eyes. And then those last years - about 5 years - of suffering.  The last meeting I had with her, on April 25th, she was drastically altered.  Her physical frame was waning. Her eyes did not meet you.  They were kind of transfixed. She had no more complaints of hearing or hearing loss.  She was gazing already into eternity, and her prayers were almost solely 'at the hour of my death - call me and bid me come to you'... And as a Christian would view, befittingly for a daughter of the Heart of Mary, she was called to the Lord on the feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, which follows the feast of the Sacred Heart, immediately after. 

WITNESSES GALORE 

There were five witnesses today: Only later did it occur to me that I should have taken a picture of these people. 

One artist looking Rajiv from Gothuruth recalled how she dared to pull him out of the country liquour bar and forced him into a life of abstinence. Mostly successful. Though the sisters say that some times he slips back. But he appeared to be well-read and appreciating what Aetty had done for him 

One smart tall young man - Jomin (??) who was touched by Elizabeth as she visited his mother who was ill, and tried to support the family in trouble. He is a great fan of Elizabeth and was there all through the ceremony. 

Another tall middle-aged man - Johnson from Kara, recalls how Aetty caned (chooral) him and forced him to come to Church, which his parents could not do.  He has been in touch with Elizabeth since then. 

One of my SH colleagues of support staff was there, recalling how she helped his family through their financial crisis, helping them find a job and supporting in various other ways through their crisis. They are related to Rosily, who was a great friend of Elizabeth, but had quit the religious life after some time. 

As I was departing, the sisters said they were happy with what I had shared. That is a consolation. And they added that an SD sister had come in the morning with a mother, to tell what Elizabeth had done for them. Her son was found to be good for nothing, and she sought Elizabeth's help. And he made efforts to help him with the basics of English, which led him into priestly training, and lo and behold, he is getting ordained this year! 

Sr Ancy, a much younger, but great companion of Aetty, confided that Mother Dilema (who is also known to me) had remembered her and had conveyed her regards with a note. I hope that will be shared with me soon, which I will add here. 

My dear Ancy, I received the news of our dear Elizabeth's return home to the Father this evening. Memories of her very first days in the Society come back to.me. The point that struck me about her was her readiness to help.and be.of service to anyone in all circumstances. May the Lord in His infinite goodness welcome her to be forever with Him and may she pray.for us all in the Society. The Immaculate heart.of Mary keeps her in her warm embrace too. Rest in.peace dear Elizabeth.

I was thoroughly comforted by the great impact Aetty had had on individuals and families. Perhaps, we hardly knew this work of Aetty.  

Hence, I choose Wisdom, chapter 3, for celebrating her entry into eternity: 

1. But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. 

2. In the eyes of the foolish, they seemed to die; and their passing away was thought an affliction.

3. And their going forth from us, utter destruction. But they are in peace.

4. For if to others, indeed, they seem punished, yet is their hope full of immortality;

5. Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself.

I thank God for Aetty the great, for whom Kochangala, his wife (chechi) and their children were the greatest possessions. 

REV. SR. ELIZABETH LONAN DHM - AETTY

AETTY, OUR BELOVED AUNT

June 28, 2025 - Since yesterday, I had been receiving alerts from various corners that Aetty's health was failing.  I dedicated today's mass in honour of the Immaculate Heart of Mary for Aetty.  What a blessing that almost all of us, her only kin, so to speak, her nephews and nieces, visited her today - some of them stayed on, and saw her easing into eternity.  I am no longer able to be sorry - though I will miss her - I consider this indeed as 'moksham' which also means mukti or liberation! For a believer, it is the passage to eternity - and we hope, with the source of eternal joy and peace - God our father and mother! 

 During my last visit, in April, I was taken aback by the transformation that had taken place in her over a period of 8 months. We met her in August, walking around, speaking, and eating well at our pre-wedding gathering of Lisa d/o Saju.  Now she was emaciated. And when I called on her, she struggled to sit up. I had to support her for sitting up, and I felt there was great struggle to bend her back. She was all through muttering one line prayers calling on Jesus.  After a while, I took a cue from her mutterings, and lead her in some traditional prayers, most of which she repeated.  But there was no other response at the personal level. 

It reminded me of the sprightly Aetty arriving home at night from Trivandrum on learning of her mother's illness, way back in 1979. Though I felt a little odd, she was there thoroughly preparing her mom to go peacefully. And I recall her loud cry,  'Amme, amme' as she departed at night, after a short struggle for breath. I think it was she who suggested to Vellyechi Psalm 122:1  for the memorial picture to be printed: 'My heart and soul rejoiced when they told me, let us go to God's house'.  May the psalmist's saying and experience of Psalm 23 of the care of the Good Shepherd be true for Aetty, I pray. 

Deo Gracias! We are grateful to the DHM sisters - with whom Aetty grew in the Christian spirit of charity and service, and persevered for over 50 years.  Some of the DHM sisters had been very dear to her - I recall Ms Tresamma, who was mother to her in the congregation, and who was her next door neighbour in her last years. Perhaps Aetty was in rather good health to send her home some 6 years ahead of her.  There was Mother Delema, who was a famous social work figure in Mumbai, and also the general of their congregation in Paris. They were also dear to me, especially with my training in Social Work.  Many of them grew familiar and family to us as well, as almost all of us visited Aetty regularly, and had occasions to interact with her fellow sisters. Then there was Sr Eliamma, who received me in their house at Paris, Sr Thressiamma Kurian, who was a colleague in Ghana with our uncle Fr Antony (who spent almost 3 decades serving Ghana Christians), Sr Iris, who always welcomed me with a beaming smile, Sr Suni, who became my colleague at Rajagiri, Sr Jacinta,  at one time, the Provincial, who was senior to me at TISS pursuing Ph D, when I was doing PG.... several of the superiors of Vimalalayam. 

Having Aetty with the DHM, I have visited their convents in Ernakulam, Panangad, Kara, Kottayam, Trivandrum, Chennai, and because of that connection, convents at Goregaon, Mumbai, Mangalore and Paris.  On Aetty's part, besides the usually taken-for-granted contributions of community outreach to families, publication of a booklet on their founder(s) in Malayalam was something valuable, I trust. 

As we bid her goodbye, we pray that the congregation bears abundant fruit in their radical mission of being amidst people and announcing the good news to them, especially through support for livelihood options. 

July 8, 2022

Aetty - that's the only sibling Ichayan (my father) had. How did Alikutty (for Elizabeth) become Aetty - was it our mom or Vellyechi who created 'A-tty' out of 'Alikutty'. Nobody bothered. She had been Aetty for us all through. Her life is shrouded in mystery - I like to compare her with Melchizedek for apparently no reason.   She is said to have had a very tough sailing as a young girl, having lost the protection of a father, almost at birth, with hardly anyone to protect her. However, she turned out to be a great survivor - becoming a kind of nurse (definitely, with some training), getting employed with port trust, earning on her own, also getting actively involved in church activities around SH monastery, but finally deciding to become a nun in the fashionable or radical order of the daughters of the heart of Mary (DHM), whom we, in Kochi, called Vimalalayam sisters, after their house in the heart of rhe city.  It had a unique charm with stone cladding, which was a rare sight in this part of the world. 

I vaguely remember all of us going to the South Railway station to see her off - perhaps for the initial trip to Bombay, or perhaps, some time later. The lean and thin Alikutty after her initial phase of training at Mumbai, returned rotund and plumb, and professed as a nun in 1972. We all attended the solemn function in the Vimalayam chapel, where she made her first profession.  Our preparation was confined to cooking some country snacks - palaharam (acchappam, avulose unda, cheeda, diamond-cuts) and I thought it was a big deal for those times.  She had turns in places like Bombay, Chennai, Kottayam, Trivandrum, Kara (Kodungalloor) and Kochi. She was always active, prim, and was ever ready to take up tasks - that is my impression. 

Whenever she arrived on a home vacation, once in two years or so, the house went on a cleaning spree... especially the toilets. She was said to be very actively involved with people and their struggles, a charism of DHM, and in later stages became a devout follower of the charismatic movement.   She also had great trust in magnetic therapy. And her adherence to it has continued to date. 

However, last few years she had been feeling quite ill at ease, and rather unhappy with the congregation or rather, its authorities, and was aggrieved that she was not being well taken care of.  Perhaps, it was the age-related problems - involutional melancholia. 

Today, as we met her, I could foresee irritation creeping within me; hence, I decided to join the company of Vellyechi & Davischettan. And we found her excited, agitated and in her effort to greet and meet us, she was getting fits of annoyance and agonising muscular spasms. She got Davis chettan examine and comment on her medication, which, he found to be apt for her situation.  Both of them were rather patient and very supportive of Aetty, and she derived some comfort from them. Davis chettan attributed it all to age-related anxiety, bordering on mild depression (involutional melancholia?). I lost my patience and almost admonished her to take her sufferings as part of Christ's suffering, which she received with some degree of acceptance. 

She had great apprehension regarding Ammachi dying with some bitterness in her mind. Apparently, ammachi did develop some such attitude towards the last stage of her life. Aetty was quite understanding of this turn in her life, and was praying regarding the same. Now she appears to be in more or less that position.  I am afraid, whether this is what would accompany old age - I pray that such bitterness never remains in anyone.. 

This year happens to be her golden Jubilee.  They would have a celebration in August or so. We should think in what way we could make it a joyous occasion. Alternatively, we could think of a small-scale Palakkappilly celebration in the parish with Vavachayan or me around..

Other Notes on Aetty: 

https://prasantamcmi.blogspot.com/2023/11/a-long-day-of-connecting-people.html

Nov. 25, 2023 I have another stopover - to greet Aetty - the incorrigible, adamant Aetty of past her 80s. But she appeared more pleasant and sprightly. I give her sitaphal and sweet Passion Fruit. All these sans any wrapper! She is anxious to treat me with a toffee compulsorily.  I have to give in. Then she orders coffee, which she holds in her hand and spills while I am attending a phone call from my dentist. I speak fiercely through my teeth: Aetty keep that there, and forcefully take that away from her.  Aetty has the sharpness to remind me that it was high time I left the domain of going about institutions and focused on the gospel and sharing of the same with others. I am in agreement.  But make the excuse of the lack of charisma and/or the vow of obedience.  She is unhappy that I am leaving quickly and is determined to get down the stairs to see me off. I fear for her, and ask some of the people there to ensure that she gets back to her room safe. But they say they can't do anything about her, as she is so fiercely determined.  And unless we have ample time, we can't afford to be with her, as she appears to be unable to grasp what we say or see us clearly, claiming that she has lost those two faculties. 

https://prasantamcmi.blogspot.com/2024/04/aged-tour-on-earth-day-encountering.html

April 22, 2024 I managed to reach Vimalayalam and spent some 'quality' time with Aetty. Sr Sophie, Dr Sr Alphonsa, etc gathered around. Aetty was going about carrying a pack of medicines, and cribbing about no one to help her out with the application of the eye drops. Sophie examined and found that 3 of the small plastic dispensers were all empty and she had a new one along. Now she suspects. Perhaps, my endorsement makes it easier for her to let go! I unwrap the packed new ones, there are 2 of them. 

I agree to have a lime juice lest Aetty intervenes and creates a mess. She is under control today. Sr Alphonsa, the only doctor of the congregation is energetic, and tries to reason it out with Aetty.  Aetty is unhappy, as she is not able to do what she wants, in spite of her good health (no health problems), because of her hearing and sight loss.  I  point out to her the examples of people who have nothing, and the many things we have that we take for granted. I tell her about our former provincial Bp Gregory who has gone blind, and at 90, the congregation didn't feel like experimenting with a treatment costing around 30 lakhs, with no guarantee of eyesight restored, but he leads a cheerful life. And I challenge her to take up her daily cross for the millions who are even much worse disposed. And she kind of swallows in and doesn't refute.  I also tell her about the status of Vellichayan and refers to his gradual loss of memory to register with her the blessedness she enjoys.  Apparently, she was put to ease...Don't know for how long! She is comforted to learn that Vivek and Annie are doing well. 

We have plenty of kisses and hugs to exchange. I should have said a prayer. We force a smile on her to take a pic. I insist her not to come down and she is ok with it. Next time, if possible, I hope to find time to visit her and join the community celebration of the mass. 

I also meet Sr Eliamma, Sr Thressiamma who all gracefully greeted me and enquired after the rest of my brothers and sisters. 

REMEMBERING EMERGENCY

June 26, 2025

OMG! 50 years since the emergency was declared. We learnt history in those days. Now, those days have become part of the history lessons. While I don't make little of the impact it had left on our young democracy, I observe the double standards of this being celebrated by the ruling party with a vengeance to its advantage.

Our school, St. Augustine's High School, where I was admitted solely on the decision of my mother (still unable to comprehend where she received the counsel for the same), had its campus on the railway track near North Rail Over Bridge, just behind the nursing school of Lisie Hospital. In 1975, it was shifted to a new campus behind the hostel or convent attached to Lisie Hospital. This implied that instead of getting down at the North bus stop, we would now get down at the Lisie bus stop. 

The building was new, and the ground, perhaps reclaimed from a paddy field, was full of soft mud of a pinkish hue - one could hardly play there.  As usual, the school opened in the beginning of the rainy June, and again, as usual, the atmosphere was vitiated by regular student strikes leading to a boycott of classes. In those days, and even now, generally, the student strikes led by student outfits of the leading political parties, summarily had the agenda of boycotting classes; very rarely did they imply anything else to most of the students. 

The leaders of the school that year, I recall now vaguely, were one Ashraff and one Surendran, both of whom were leading the strikes. (Later in the same year, we learnt about the death of Surendran, assumedly by suicide.) Then we heard about the declaration of 'atiyantaraavastha' (emergency). This led to a few more days of fierce strikes, which included not letting the school doors open by smearing the latches and locks of the doors with a generous dose of the mud from the football court.  I still do not understand in what manner such protests involving the destruction of public property help in registering the protest. We were thrilled with the declaration that the school was closed indefinitely (anishcita kaalathekku)

Anyway, after a few days, it all subsided and everything started functioning as usual - only that there was some hush-hush about atiyantaravastha. The marked difference was that since there to our great dismay, there wasn't a single day of strike till we completed our VII grade, almost two full academic years. Then I got transferred to another school.  However, I regretted that fun and feeling of importance of being in a rowdy school, with regular strikes - which usually began with a mob of very senior students (they were real big chettans those days) gathering together shouting slogans (rarely) or hooting and moving through classes and everyone rushing out or being pushed out of the class rooms, followed by a long bell indicating that classes ended for the day.  It never happened again. 

The marked difference in public life was that almost all retail shops and restaurants were displaying the price of the goods, which was not a regular practice till then.  I overheard people saying that there was an increase in general discipline. There was hardly any mention in the only public forum we used to attend, the church, neither a mention nor a prayer. The school sessions or the Sunday Catechism sessions were equally devoid of any such reference or discussions. 

We were being happily governed by C. Achyutha Menon and followed, briefly by K. Karunakaran, with a strange combination of Congress Party, Muslim League and Communist Party of India. The latter could govern just for a month, with allegations regarding his involvement in the disappearance of the engineering student P. Rajan s/o Sri Echara Warrier, who became well known for his fight for the cause of his son through the human rights writ petition based on 'habeas corpus' (literally 'you have the body').  My sister was a contemporary (junior) of Rajan at REC. Rajan was said to have been involved in the attack on Kayanna Police Station, for which he was arrested. One of the rumours was that Mr Karunakaran was displeased with Rajan's singing the song 'kanaka simhasanattil kayariyirikkunnavan shunakano verum shumbhano' (from the 1974 movie - arakkallan mukkalkkallan), purportedly aiming at the CM, and with his already existing alleged revolutionary links with Naxal groups, he was said to have been apprehended and tortured, leading to his disappearance and death in custody.  This was one of the most discussed cases in connection with the emergency period in the state of Keralam, leading to the resignation of CM Karunakaran.  In our black and white family album, there is still a picture of a singing group on the REC stage in which Rajan is there with my sister and a couple of other students. 

Though not very critically aware of the issues involved, I desired that Indira would lose the election, but I did not have great hopes in that direction.  I was overjoyed when it was known that Indira had been defeated.  That doesn't mean that I had any animosity towards her. In spite of this grave failure on her part, I still have great regard for Indira and feel bad for her untimely and brutal end.  Adv. Jayashankar (ABC News, June 25, 2025), analysing the emergency, says that the court ruling that led to Indira's panic decision was not really a well-balanced judgement, and had she persisted with the judicial process, she would easily have won the case and could have continued with honour. I was also happy to read Manish Tewari (TIE June 27, 2025) that Indira, in a public address at Yavatmal om January 24, 1978, showed the greatness to admit to a lapse of judgement and said that she was taking the "entire responsibility for the same" and for mistakes (and excesses) that were committed during that time. 

The only political discussion in this connection in a classroom which I can recall was about 'who will be the next president' on the eve of presidential elections - from our minimal browsing of the newspaper, I was led to say, Neelam Sanjeeva Reddy. The teacher engaging our class, Mr Mathew, whom we used to call the Hindi Pandit, told us that though it was likely, it needn't be so, as there was a similar history when Neelam Sanjeeva Reddy was all set to win, and was defeated. But that was all. He did not go into any of its intricacies. 

I was also aware of the draconian law of MISA (Maintenance of Internal Security Act) under which, to my impression, anybody could be taken into custody, without giving reasons.  However, that did not strike me as something affecting us in those days.  I feel the schools were much poorer regarding critical thinking of issues, though that aspect notwithstanding, there were rebels and critics, created out of one's genes or from one's environment. Apparently, I do not feel I have belonged to that class and feel ashamed about that. 

It was ironic that in the UN International Year of Women, Indira showed herself to be an ultra-strong woman, who is now seen as a symbol both of power and of abuse of power.  I noted with interest that a veteran journalist who was in Tihar jail during those days, evaluating that Indira was thrown out of power not because of the threat she raised to liberty and liberal thinking; but rather because of nasbandi forced upon the North Indian population by her over-enthusiastic son Sanjay, who apparently took the nation for his fiefdom (Virendra Kapoor, TIE June 25, 2025).  

(During this time, in 1975, Sacred Heart College, Thevara, otherwise a men's world, was opened to women - I think more out of compulsion regarding admissions, discipline and results, rather than to have anything to do with International Women's Year. (Though, these days, we - including me - try to project it as a response to the IYW 1975).  Two of my elder sisters joined the college - one in the first batch of PDC opened to women, and the other, perhaps, in the first or second batch of M. Sc Zoology opened to women.)

Otherwise, for the majority of the people of Thevara and Kochi,  blissfully unaware of the severity of the emergency regime,  apparently these were days of greater government responsibility and transparency, and of comparative peace, free from the numerous strikes, bandhs, processions and slogans which are a kind of cultural heritage of Keralam built up from the days of independence. Maybe this resonates with the sentiments of aristocrats (or benevolent autocrats?) like JRD Tata, who is quoted by a mellowed Brinda Karat (TIE June 26, 2025), a revolutionary communist youth of the emergency times: 'You can't imagine what we have gone through here - strikes, boycotts, demonstrations.  Why, there were days I couldn't walk out of my office into the streets. The parliamentary system is not suited to our need.' However, her own comrades, while continuing to create such a situation in the state of Keralam even today, at their will, would come down heavily on protests against the government or social media criticism or ridicule of their leaders.  I feel amused that people like Amit Shah and Narendra Modi are celebrating the event, announcing even June 25 as the day of the murder of democracy, while conveniently forgetting the painful death (murder) of a venerable old man, Stansilaus Lourdswamy, in prison, being denied even basic rights to food and health care. Lalu Prasad (Santhosh Singh, TIE. June 26, 2025) appears right when he criticises the present government and equates the present regime as an 'undeclared emergency'.  (I presume hardly anyone would read these jottings, nor are these of any great value, but I am afraid perhaps, even this would suffice to put me under the scanner or even arrest).

I also learn with interest the stories of the giant killer George Fernandes, the revolutionary firebrand socialist and idealist, who was a strong figure in the non-Congress camp, who gradually got accustomed to the alleys of power, and was even implicated in corruption charges while being in power. Also interesting to learn about the socialist democratic pressure on Indira from the West European nations, which also might have led her to reconsider the emergency. (Neerja Choudhary, TIE. June 26, 2025). 

RURAL RESOURCE AND TRAINING CENTRE, UMRAN, MEGHALAYA

Rural Resource & Training Centre, Umran, Meghalaya

https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1J4hP1F1Sh/

A visit to the North East by a man of cloth like me, would necessarily entail interactions with Christian, usually Catholic institutions. After each such visit, I become enamoured and mesmerised by the kind of work accomplished by the Salesians of Don Bosco in this region. They have made the region grow, and they too have grown in numbers and spread along with that. Presently, they have 4 provinces - Shillong, Guwahati, Dimapur and Kolkota - in this region. Today, from Siloam, where our 3 day workshop on Church of India (and Asia) in preparation for COP30 is held, we were blessed with an exposure visit, led by 3 eminent bishops to another centre of excellence by the Salesians. We had Archbishop John of Guwahati leading the trek around the sprawling rural development centre on the Shillong - Guwahati route, about 2 kilometres to the east.

A vision for sustainable rural development by Salesians of North East, earlier a centre under Don Bosco Outreach, now independently under the Shillong province. 350 acres of land with models and provisions for training in Dairy, Piggery, Horticulture, Organic farming, Pisciculture, Apiary, vermi composting, food processing etc. About 120 ponds, 150 beehives (annual production 2 tonnes) and staff 65 - Green gospel of Bread for the Hungry. Hats off to the visionary Salesians, especially, late Fr Mathachan. Present directors: Fr Keni Pagma and Anugrah. And as would befit our calling and training, ending with reflective sharing of our gleanings for the day guided by a junior Tissian Rev. Fr. Joseph Gonsalves. The reflections are energising - bringing bread to the hungry (livelihood training) by being co-creators, improved vegetation and introduction of new income generating fruit trees indicating the institutional growth, the great water resources and their management, experiment of land use by people who are permitted to produce on the land, importance of proper land management etc.

Some websites show the name St. Joseph's for the centre, even their calendar shows that; but generally, it is known in the secular name of RRTC. Apparently, even the government taps their resources for training government staff and others. I also read a blog by a young enthusiast who was privileged to explore this region thanks to the RYLA camp held at RRTC way back in 2012.

The institution is now more than 30 years old, as vouched by two of our senior participants who have been there more than 25 years ago. Received as a marshy swamp, it has been converted into a model of agroforestry, with the waters collected into the ponds spotted all over the campus. There is a check dam to retain water and release as required.

Jal - Kumbh - Mahakumbh 2025

Feb. 24, 2025  https://www.facebook.com/share/p/18LorSq1cn/

"जल में कुम्भ, कुम्भ में जल है, बाहर भीतर पानी। फूटा कुम्भ जल जलहिं समाना, यह तथ्य कथो ग्यानी।।"

As I reflect on the Maha Kumbh around the holy waters of Prayagraj, I am glad to recall Kabirdas ji, thus. As water in the kumbh gets one with the water of the ocean, when the pot shatters, so may the breaking of this frame lead us to the unity of our limited self to the Ultimate Self, the param atman.

I have been in and about Uttar Pradesh (UP) from 1980 till 1990. Thereafter, occasional visits, and for the last two years back again on a full-time assignment. My earlier stint was in the western part of U.P with Haridwar being just about 50 kilometers away.  At least I had moved around Haridwar, taken a dip in the waters of Ganges there and gone around Rishikesh, and stood in the in its chilling waters. In those times, it was not easy to stand in those waters for a minute at a stretch. 

This time it is in the Eastern (central) part with Ayodhya, Benares and Prayag within 400 kilometer radius.  In my earlier days, it never occurred to me that I should go to the Kumbh mela ever. Never felt the need or interest in that. It appears that as I have grown older I have deliberately cultivated a habit to grow more curious, and to enquire about the things, people and places I do not know. 

Given freedom and free time, I would have spent at least 2 full days at the place exploring and meeting various people associated with this ancient tradition. I must admit that all these years, it never  occurred to me why the name 'kumbh mela' was given. Only this year did I get to know about the very interesting story about the legendary churning for amrit (elixir) guaranteeing the coveted immortality and eternal youth.  In the churning of the cosmic ocean (kshir sagar), there emerged Dhanwantari, the physician for the Devas, holding the amrt kumbh (the pot of the elixir).  Guided by Brhaspati (Jupiter), the guru of the Devas, they snatched this away deceiving their asura partners in the cosmic cooperative venture, and Indra, their King was in possession of it. In the ensuing fierce fight, the swift and mighty Garuda intervened to secure it for the Devas; however, in his flight with the great Kumbh (pot) the amrt was spilt and drops fell at Haridwar, Prayagraj, Ujjain and Nashik.  It is believed that the rivers in all these locations (Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati, Shipra and Godavari) having had amrit mixed in their waters have the special quality than can clean people and make them immortal (amar - amrit). What a beautiful backdrop to reemphasize the life-sustaining quality of these rivers (as well as that of every  other river)! 

The celebration of this possibility of cleansing and rejuvenation is celebrated every twelve years - the rotation cycle of Jupiter, which falls in the month of Kumbh (Aquarius - January-February), with the aligning of the planet and the sun occurring every three years in these spots one after the other. Thus every 3 years, a Kumbh Mela will be held in one of these Kumbh sthaan (locations). 

Now being just 300 odd kilometers away from this maha kumbh, and annually getting older, I deemed this perhaps my last chance to have a glimpse of this great happening and hence decided to have a feel of it. I inspired my colleagues - staff and priests; though some of them showed interest, and spoke big things about going to Kumbh, finally on the reckoning day (Feb. 23rd Sunday), there was no one but me to go. I thought of the frenzied and milling crowds, fighting to get into the bus and likely stampede where I could very well be finished. However, still decided to go without having to spare a working day. 

After the usual evening prayers and dinner, I was dropped at the Sitapur bus station. I could not find a bus to Lucknow or Prayagraj.  A car wallah invited the Baba (Only when people address me in those terms 'baba, chacha' etc. I realise that I am a senior citizen; otherwise, I still act like a young man with all its immaturity and energy) to join the share-trip (back) to Lucknow.   He would charge just the bus rates.  Though the seating was not comfortable and I was disturbed by a persistent cough, I was happy that it reached in less than 2 hours and the driver pointed out from where I could get a Prayagraj bus - just about 200 metres away, there was a bus calling passengers towards Prayagraj.  I am seated there by 11 pm. The bus leaves around 11.20 pm. I got a seat with space to spare for my bag too. Blessed sleep, till early morning 4.30, I could be free from all worries. In between woke up to witness the snarl which appeared to be the beginning of the end stretch when we were 90 kms away. But almost an hour or so, the block is cleared, and the bus started moving smoothly. By 5 am, we were about 15 kilometres away from Prayagraj and then began the tiring stretch of almost 5 hours to cover the distance, thanks to the crowding, and Indianly indisciplined vehicles on the road, both in thousands. I would not drink water or any other, lest I had to answer the calls of nature.  At around 9 am, the bus, full of pilgrims, was at the parking area in the Ganga ghat!  I would have loved to have a place to keep my bag safe, and move around and return and fetch it again.  I was in utter confusion. Where to go, which is the place to go and what are the things that one should not miss etc. Almost totally clueless. 

However, we see hundreds of people getting out of the buses or their own vehicle, calmly getting set and start walking in some direction. I could see some incomplete bridge on the one side. Having had some idea regarding the availability of 'bike-transport', I approach a biker who was in the vicinity.  He wanted to know where I wanted to go, which I myself was not clear. Finally, we arrived at some conclusions: 1. Ganga ghat, about a kilometer away, he would drop me for Rs. 100.00 2. Sangam Ghat, which is the place to be, about 15 kilometers away, he would drop me for Rs. 800.00. I didn't go around to compare with other competitors in this regard. There were not many to choose from at that point.  We started off, initially with Ganga ghat and then stretched it to Sangam ghat. Only late did I realise that both were in the same direction. I settled for Rs. 600.00 knowing very well that it was a very exploitative price that he was asking from me.  However, he managed it well, and guiding me across and along the calmly flowing, and apparently clean Ganga (no swift current, no turbulence - mid-course its stretch, Ganga here is mellowed and mature), he dropped me at Lakshmi Dwar and told that now one has to walk. I ask him his name - he does not respond promptly, then muttered 'Guddu'. Perhaps, he was a non-hindu, and perhaps, he felt hesitant to tell his real name, lest some people may be put off regarding the presence of a non-Hindu in the Hindu holy place. 

I could see the crowds moving in both directions.  Though there were thousands of them continuously moving towards the river and from it, there wasn't much of noise, or frenzied religious utterances, or blaring mike announcements.  It was a big mela with no matching scale of noise pollution.  It was more of a religious family time.  Most of the people appeared to be in groups, usually with their families, mostly as joint families or families in the neighbourhood (assuming from the numbers) and also as nuclear families.   From the track from Ganga Ghat to Sangam Ghat, it is some 3000 steps to the ghat, where one can do the ritual immersion - the snan. Though all were meant to cover that stretch on foot, there was always an odd someone either by a motorbike or even by car, trying to cover the maximum distance on wheels, rather than on foot. I didn't find people extremely bothered by the prospect of having to cover some 12 to 15 kilometers on foot. (This distance is vague, and often transmitted orally. I hardly found any indicator regarding the actual distance from one point to another.  The Google map shows the distance as 16.3 kilometres from the Bus Parking area to the Sangam Ghat.)

In spite of the general indiscipline common to South Asians, especially Indians, Pakistanis and Bangladeshis (that is my feeling, perhaps, I am wrong), this vast crowd did maintain some sort of discipline.  I don't think Yogi or any other government or system can take any credit of it, though they do - it is the typical Indian passivity and habit of living with the bare minimum comfort even otherwise that make the crowd accommodative.  The almost 30-foot wide pathway to the ghat had people keeping to their left in either direction, with a clumsy bamboo barricade in some places to indicate the left and right parts of the walkway.  However, most of them, walking in a relaxed pace, would not have others who would like to move fast in their mind. So for me, it was difficult to negotiate that and to move ahead.  Sometimes, as we do on the roads on dotted lines, one had to step to the other side and get back to your side to move ahead. 

Your stroll ends with a blocked paltoon bridge (pontoon bridge - a temporary bridge built on concrete blocks, chains and steel or wooden planks to walk over.  There are said to be 30 of them across the waters in the Kumbh area, spanning 4000 plus hectares.) There are a couple of police personnel on sentry, but hardly anyone providing any direction. Then, there is a scattered crowd more on the right-hand side. The waters are hidden by them. The flowing water (still Ganga, I believe) is marked with a barricade, some 30 feet from the shore, and the people are expected to do their dip or bath within that area.  The water is generally waist-deep or chest-deep, never beyond that. It is flowing in the right-hand direction (probably south).  The shore is strewn with flowers, chiefly of marigold, and the disposable plastic-coated leaf-plates, but not really looking quite forbidding or ugly. 

On the shore some 15 metres away from the waters, there are rows of small-time vendors - dozens of them - men, women and children - selling items for the ritual dip - typical flowers.   The devotees usually have some tarpan to do, and they make use of these items, doing prayers for their ancestors. Then take a dip. But preliminary to that is the purchase of a plastic sheet about 2m x 2 m, which is available for less than Rs. 100. You spread that on the wet shore and then that is your entitlement for the time being. The sheet protects your stuff from getting soiled and wet. You keep all your things there, and while some of the group members do the dip, the rest of the remain on this guarding it - though it is assumed that being on a pilgrimage people would not steal -(but kaun jane, there may be people coming specifically with the intent of stealing as well).   Being alone, I was in difficulty. How to leave my belongings and go for a dip? I see a group of young men, discarding their sheet and about to leave, I manage to get it, as they are no longer in need of it, and thus reducing one more plastic sheet on the Holy land. Then I see a group of senior men looking around for a 'plot', and I offer them my sheet, and request them to have an eye on my bag, as I take the dip. I take the dip, though not fully free from the worry regarding my baggage. Get a picture taken.  The water is cool - didn't find it any that dirty, definitely far cleaner than the waters of our backwaters in Keralam.  

There are some vendors who would do designs on your forehead with vermillion after you have done the snan. They consider this more as an act of devotion than a business, though people generously givee Rs. 5.00 or more for any such writing. And most of the devotees get Jai Shriram or similar slogans written on their forehead. There are a few get their head shaved as well, though it is more of an exception. I too get 'Om Shanti' written on my forehead - something which can have the least dispute regarding faith. 

As a 'mela', it is a good time for many locals who appeared to earn something from vending various goods and the bikers, e-rickshaws and such other services, and food vendors - some of them indeed exploiting the pilgrims, while others earning by rendering these services to the pilgrims. Religious articles are some of the takeaways, while most of the pilgrims would seek to carry Ganga Jal, and bottles or cans for the same are also in great demand. That way the government claim of the boost to the economy may indeed be true. 

Then I trace my steps back to the Sangam road. I am eager to see the 'sangam' but feel 'not this time'. Want to see Ganga and Jamuna together, but the crowd appears forbidding for any such explorations. I extend my hand to a biker - Oh it's a (civil) policeman. I was hesitant, but he is willing to take me to the city for a pay.  We settle for Rs. 300.00.  The ride is easier than the ride till the snan ghat. He drops me somewhere near the famous St. Joseph's school of Allahabad and I discover for myself the seminary on the same campus.  The school exhibits posters welcoming the pilgrims, and is said to have done voluntary ann daan etc. on the occasion. Without having to be forced to do such things, such gestures are indeed signs of a healthy India - I hope these are not done under duress. 

A couple of hours for visiting the famed Anand Bhavan of Nehru family, I return, catching a bus to Lucknow and then to Sitapur, with the eager determination to revisit the Prayagraj once again to explore the city, and to salute the sangam and be in company of the great rivers! 

I observe and overhear people in the bus and in small groups praising Yogi for this great organisation.  In fact, I felt people have been fed with propaganda and have learnt to relish that as that panders to their basic clannish feelings of being Hindus (that is, in this case. It could apply to any religious groups, in similar situations). There were indeed some booths where police/NCC personnel were seen to be supporting people, there were some toilet facilities erect around the sangam areas, which I didn't dare to explore, there was indeed annadaan for the pilgrims, there were ample buses from different parts of UP to Prayagraj at affordable rates. However, I felt there could have been much better volunteer support to guide the pilgrims, much better provisions for commuting from the bus to the sangams/ghats.  The claim of 40 crores to 65 crores participants was the height of hype I felt. That would mean more than a third of the country's population has turned up at Prayagraj.  I did just one test case - in the college assembly, with majority upper caste Hindus, I asked those who visited Prayagraj to raise their hands. Not even a 10th of those gathered raised their hands. I think the situation would be more or less same with anywhere; and when it comes to the South of India, still much less. 

While I admire the sangam, the great festival, and perhaps agree that it might indeed be the greatest religious or secular gathering in the world though there is doubt regarding the Mecca pilgrimage being a great contender. Mecca pilgrimage having greater restrictions, regarding both access and duration, the Kumbh claim may be true. But it could be realistically put - and in my rough estimate, it may be 15 to 20 crores, which itself is a great number. For someone used to have travelled in suburban trains of Mumbai and experienced the crowds at Santacruz, Malad, Andheri etc. this crowd is much less intimidating and more easily manageable and I never felt it as overwhelming, again, never denying the fact that it is indeed a mega crowd. 

While I have only goodwill towards such gatherings, and am of the opinion that such occasions should be utilised to instill greater civic sense and care of the rivers and waters (SDG 6), and promote dialogue among various faiths (SDG 16), I sincerely feel that what has been a people's fest has now been coopted or hijacked by the state with clear political agenda based on Hindu aggrandizement thanks to the present governments at the centre and the state. They have maximally utilised it for their political advantage. I hope this will not be considered anti-India, rather than a forthright observation.

SILOAM - FOR REGAINING SIGHT, GAINING INSIGHT

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As we move up from Guwahati to the beckoning hill city of Shillong, mid-way is Bara Pani ('r' usually pronounced closer to 'd' for the South Indians), and on the righthand you find the beautiful Umiam lake created by the dam on Umiam river.  You have to take a right turn along the lake from the highway at Uribang and go along the lake side for about 1.8 km on the Umswal road to reach this Indian Siloam. (Finding may locations beginning with Um in this region generates curiosity - that has something to do with water. Um means water in Khasi. Um with iam makes it tears of water) I got a shared taxi from Khanapara and trekked the 1.8 kms in the soft drizzle with my backpack and  laptop bag.  I thought that should fit better for our gathering on COP 30, as Christians interested in our Common Home. 

Siloam, from a Biblical point of view is a pool of healing, to where the blindman seeking sight 'is sent' by Jesus to wash his eyes and gain eye sight. The term is said to literally mean 'to be sent'.  So it is place where one is sent to be washed off one's limitations and gain or regain sight (Gospel as told by St. John, chapter 9 in the Holy Bible). 

The visitors to Siloam are encouraged to call up beforehand or else are likely to find it difficult to get entry, as there is no gatekeeper. Fortunately, I had the number of the director saved from my previous  visit as part of my pan-India solo ride for 'green peace and trust' in 2021. I sportingly bore the soft rain for about 25 minutes in the process of gaining ascertaining whether I was at the right place and gaining access. 

It is beyond imagination, how Rev. Fr George Palamattam SDB had the foresight and good fortune to
procure a piece of land on that waterbody! Perhaps, he had done that before the waterbody was formed. I guessed it right.  The Salesians had this property way back in 1963, when the waters of Umiam for Hydel project with a tunnel diverting the water to the turbines were just getting dammed. But it had to wait for long till the beginning of 21st century, for the arrival of a Saviour in Fr George, with his training in Psychology from California to appear on the scene. In a matter of 2 decades the campus, without great alteration to its undulated topography, has been converted into what generally people take for the lost Paradise of the Biblical story. The abundance of fruits, diversity of trees and flowering plants, mix of the species of the plains and the hills - we have a mini forest of pines as if standing guard on the eastern edge on the top (not actually part of the campus) and the lower end merging into the lake.  Though guarded jealously by the omnipresent Fr George, it is a self-effacing act - nowhere did I see anything in the exterior that makes a claim the Salesians ownership - the SDB tail is missing, nor is Fr George anywhere on those structures or documents.

The valley, for an aam aadmi is a museum, for better read person an e-book (ecology book), but for Fr George, whose brainchild and labour of love Siloam Biblical Valley is, it is a 'retreat'.  While getting naturally energised by the elements of the common home, the campus presents visual landscape of an Eco-spirituality and Christian doctrine and general knowledge about Christianity.  Over the years, he has come to believe in the daily dosage of Bible (like an apple a day) for a healthy living on the path of Christ.  One of the exercises he suggests to the spiritual seeker would be to read one gospel at a stretch and experience what Jesus says to one. 

I admire this Salesian trait of creating learning resources by thematic presentation of information and arrangement of cultural artefacts. Perhaps, this is unique to their North Eastern provinces of India. The great museum of tribal heritage of Shillong, the campus museum of Jorhat and Siloam stand testimony to this trait. 

In the 4 years since my last visit on my pan-India ride on 'Trust-Green-Peace' as a pilgrimage on the Indian roads (2021), there is a new addition of the amphitheater model of display of these aspects.  It leads one to the pool of Siloam at the centre and also the lowest point, where one can regain vision, one can revitalise oneself. 

It can also be a paradise for a student of life-science, an inspiration for an architect, a librarian, a theologian and a philospher. The campus gives residential facilities to about 50 people at a time. Spacious rooms and cottages, usually on a twin-sharing basis. Even in hot summer the rooms are comfortable without an air-conditioner. Hope it remains thus.  The dining area opens to the lake giving a great experience of dining in fellowship with humans and the planet. 

The lake appears to be free for people who would like to fish. I saw several people engaged in angling. And for sure there are birds for those who would love to watch them. However, a boat ride of about 10 minutes on the lake would cost you around Rs. 2000.00, which can be shared among 10 riders. Showers are frequent and that adds charm to the campus.  

The vision and resourcefulness Fr George, accompanied by the freedom his religious order has given him, have led to this new creation. I saw the name of other team members listed - people who could contribute without becoming a meddlesome baggage I suppose.  Creating one such island of diversity, perhaps, not with so many of human artefacts, is my dream as well, as my days are getting counted. 

While the campus can be inspirational for anyone, for a Christian visiting this part of the country, a place not to be missed. There is an entry fee of Rs. 100 for a person. 

BADA MANGAL ANN DAAN - A MID-SUMMER SYMBOL OF RELIGIOUS HARMONY

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Last Nawab of Awadh, Nawab Shuja-ud-Daulah, who ruled from Lucknow from Oct 1854 to January 26, 1875, is said to have promoted the recent forms of Hanuman devotion. He is said to have been an very impressive figure measuring 7 ft in height and a powerful wielder of weapons. His wife, Janab-e-Alia (Bahu Begum) was deeply distressed, having no issues. She prayed at the old Hanuman temple in Aliganj and is said to have received the blessing of a child. In thanksgiving, she got the old temple renovated, and the celebration of Bada Mangal with feeding people is said to have begun with that.  That appears inspiring for a day when sectarianism is thought to be on the increase. 

There are a few other stories also linked to this unique observance. (i) Shuja-ud-Daulah's wife was a

Hindu, and she had a darshan of Hanumanji, indicating the presence of an idol in what was being called 'Islam baadi', which was allegedly 'Hanuman baadi' earlier. She ordered a mining of the place, the idol was discovered, but in taking it to the location in a procession on an elephant, the elephant sat down at Aliganj temple, and it was thought to be a message from above - the temple was constructed/renovated and the idol installed. (ii) During the Jyeshth season, there was an epidemic, and people collected themselves in the Hanuman temple and were saved. And that bhandara was initiated in gratitude for the saving grace. (iii) Jatmal, A Marwari merchant of itr was in the town, with no luck of sale; the Nawab who came to know about it is said to have purchased the entire stock, and in gratitude, the merchant is said to have done the renovation of the temple.  Anyways, Shuja-ud-Daulah, some favour received, gratitude in terms of renovation of temple and initiation of bhandara are accepted features of the story behind. Another unique feature of this uniquely Awadh (For English people, Oudh - but it could also  be 'a+vadh > non-killing) celebration is the participation and organisation of both Hindu and Muslim communities, a feature required for today's poisoned, fractious and polarised Bharat. 

Jyeshth, the third month of the Hindu Calendar, sees the summer peaking. We see around the devotees of Hanumanji doing ann daan on Saturdays, in addition to the normal Hanuman devotion on Tuesdays. This is an interesting collaboration between the two divinities – Saturn (Shani) and Hanuman – the prakop of Shani will not befall the devotees of Hanuman, who is even otherwise sankat mochak. And the food is given as an appeasement to Shani through the channel of Hanuman. I saw several pandals in Sitapur where people (anyone without distinction – apparently) are fed. What began with gur, chana, fried wheat mixed with jaggery - gurdhani, has now stuff such as Chole-bhature, Poori-bhaji, chowmeen, water or sharbat and some mithai (moti choor or kesari or even ice cream).

I saw men, women and children, both well-dressed and ill-clothed, flocking to the many pandals. On visiting a government office of the secular nation, the officer listened to my problem, but promised to look into it the next day (which has not arrived even after 3 days), as she was busy with the puja in this connection.

While those who do the daan and receive it appear happy, I am afraid, the Mother Earth, patient (Kshama), as ever, bears the brunt. No religion appears to be sensitive to the sankat of Mother Earth. The devotional acts, generally giving contentment to the devotees, as a norm, bear no sensitivity towards planetary impacts and consequent impact on all forms of life. Fortunately, there are more bhandaras using the biodegradable leaf dhauna than in the recent past.

And, now I feel, that I must visit this temple - in Jyeshth or otherwise.

https://www.jagran.com/uttar-pradesh/lucknow-city-old-hanuman-temple-of-aliganj-area-of-lucknow-the-only-tradition-of-bhandare-where-both-hindu-and-muslims-have-faith-lucknow-jagran-special-21696502.html

Chakola in Thevara (Perumanur) and the Payyappilly-Palakkappilly of Perumanur around them.

Dearly beloved Mrs Annamma Chakola (Annamma Chedathi for the people of Thevara) passed away. Having been rather familiar and friendly with her during my stint at Sacred Heart monastery, Thevara (2010-21), I feel bad that I am not able to be there to say a final goodbye to her. 

My friend Jose Jacob, who was the son of Prof. K.C. Jacob of SH College, stayed in 'Chakola Colony'.  It was just about 300 mts from our house on the Chackalackal road. I had never used the term Chackalackal road (I think it was thus named); I think this road is now named Deever Road (perhaps after some Deever or after Dheevara community, though this section hardly ever had anyone from Dheevara community.  It should definitely have been named Payyappilly road after the predominant family there and the renowned Venerable Fr Varghese Payyappilly, our great grand uncle.) The entire section had mostly our Palakkappilly family households, also called Payyappilly. One taravad was called Illathuparampil - which appeared, of the lot, a little more advanced and educated. There was also a section called Koonamveedu. where there were only female inheritors and the Vellyamma of that family was married to Thayyil Luka (from Kottayam Dt). He inherited the property and it became Thayyil, though among us, it was still Koonammveedu. I never felt they were part of our circle.  Thayyil Luka and Vellyamma had again 3 daughters, two of whom embraced religious life in the Catholic church, and the lone daughter left behind, Thankamani became a local school teacher (I think, at primary level) and got married to Prof. Joseph Panjikkaran of Zoology department of Sacred Heart College. Their eldest daughter Jessamma, was almost my age, and by the time we grew up, it had become Panjikkaran family.  There was another Koonamveedu, where the Vellyappan had only one daughter, and she is now married to a ..... of Thevara, and comparatively large property holdings of Payyappilly family has gone to another family.  At least 2 families of my father's generation ended having no issues, but the property has gone to their wives' families. One more family had a child adopted. In our established and unchristened 'Palakkappilly Colony' facing the Chakola colony of the Varattans, now just about 8 households remain as Palakkappilly, with hardly any unity (though there is no fight or disunity as such).  I am afraid hardly anyone in the present generation possesses the Surname Palakkappilly or Payyappilly. 

In the present day, in this locality, there remain just 10 households having the title Payyappilly-Palakkappilly.  Even during those times, Chakola had a few buildings in our unnamed 'colony', given to some of his staff members as quarters for a nominal rent. I think gradually, either they inherited that or purchased those properties from Chakola. 

I began this note describing the Chakola colony. Now this suffix of a 'colony' to Chakola sounded very hep for our times, evoking something elite as distinct from us commoners and locals. Yes, the important aspect about it was that almost all who resided there were from other parts of the states - varattar (usually used in masculine singular as something unfavoured, if not abusive). We hardly ever understood or bothered about the nuances of 'colony'.  Perhaps, it was Chakola himself who named it thus. It was a kind of gated property without a gate. There was a garland-like tarred road with quarters built neatly on both sides and the centre. Altogether, there were perhaps 10 to 15 houses in the 'colony' with the garland road leading to Chakola's single-story lakeside residence. The Chakola property appeared elegant, though the house in itself was not at all imposing.  There resided the founder of this 'colony', Mr Joseph Chakola, together with his consort Annamma Chakola. They had come from Thrissur and had purchased this plot from Luiz sayipp (most likely the Malayalam version of Sahib, the Hindustani equivalent of Sir/Master. S.P. Luiz s/o Paul Luiz was a well-known Anglo-Indian politician who lived in Perumanur).  I think when we search our family history, at least a sizeable section of this property belonged to our ancestors, who are said to have settled in this place from Paravoor (fashionably written in English as Parur).  Joseph Chettan and Annamma Chedathi were people who were held in honour in business, church and political circles.  Though they were Syrian Christians and within our parish limit, I hardly ever saw them in parish church. I think, if they did go, presumably they did, it was to the monastery church, for they didn't belong to our local community. 

I had a few occasions to visit that palace that had nothing palatial about it - usually on our annual rounds in October for Mission Sunday Collection. And if recall correctly, Joseph chettan would give Rs. 5.00 without a smile, whereas Dr A.K. Chacko who occupied the first quarters in the colony facing the  Thevara road would contribute Rs. 5.00 with a smile and some friendly banter with us kids. He was a regular at the Church, on almost all days, and without fail on Sundays. Initially, he used to drive his ambassador to the Church (though the church was only about 300 metres away), but after he had had a cerebral stroke, his wife drove the car for him.  While an amount of Rs 5.00 was quite a generous contribution, which made us young altar boys happy, when I look back, I feel it was a paltry sum as far a Joseph chettan's stature was concerned.  (Though a 100-rupee note was a rare thing to possess by an ordinary young man, I had seen my St. Augustine classmates like Krishnakumar, Dandapani and Anil Sivan possessing, not one, but many such notes, and spending lavishly among their friends, including me.) Perhaps, Joseph Chettan was contributing in many other ways, and he condescendingly looked at this as some kids' affair to be encouraged at their level. 

Joseph chettan's daughter's wedding was a big event - the entire garland road of the colony was made into a pandal and decorated. I don't know if we had an invitation. The wedding took place in the Ernakulam Cathedral, I think, and not in our parish church. Many years later, I met the family at Kalamassery - with four children - 2 girls and 2 boys.  The common mass was usually my duty, and they used to interact and respond. Once, my reference to something from Hindu tradition during the homily was questioned by Mr Jose Anathanam.  Some time later, I learnt that the family had joined the newly formed sect of the elite Christians of the Syro-Malabar church, under the leadership of one Anathanam.  But he appeared like the young man who approached Jesus with great eagerness and genuineness; and perhaps, continues to be so, unlike many of us steeped in and complacent with our elaborate liturgies and ritual prayers. 

Then the great Joseph Chettan of Chakolas passed away sometime in the late 70s.  That was the most solemn celebration of death I had ever witnessed in Keralam, till the modern times emerged, and everything became available for everyone, and St Oommen Chandi set new standards while bidding farewell to the Common Home in this state.  Again, perhaps the Chackolas of those times felt it was not befitting that such an eminent person get buried in an island hamlet like Konthuruthy. He was solemnly carried in an unimaginably long motorcade and most likely buried in the Cathedral cemetery or somewhere in Thrissur. I don't recall. I never felt attached to visit him, but the whole thing was a spectacle, and I was a spectator. With Joseph Chettan gone, the family apparently suffered serious setbacks in their enterprises. There was perhaps no one interested in maintaining the kingdom he had established.  The famous Chakola Silk house, run under the leadership of Annamma Chedathi also was no longer heard about. 

Our Malayalam teacher at St Augustine's (whose real name none of us was sure about - we called him Ponnamma sir - don't know why) once narrated about vimochana samaram with, Chackola annamma chedathi in the lead! ഇറങ്ങിപ്പോയി ഇറങ്ങിപ്പോയി കേരള ജനത ഇറങ്ങിപ്പോയി. I was surprised to hear such a reference to my neighbour in a school classroom about 10 kilometres away. I was impressed. 

A  lady used to great privileges and with readiness to serve the society, her last years were not all that comfortable. Once in a year she used to give a high tea to the members of the monastery. She knew the elder daughters of our family and used to refer to them when she used to meet me at Thevara, even when she did not have access to abundant resources.  And she would join the community for that. 

By 2021, I think her memory started fading. However, till the last time I met, perhaps she was already past 90 then, she still had retained the natural grace that her face exuded. I feel bad that I have not been able to meet her since then, and now that she is departing, a venerable, warm, friendly lady in the neighbourhood, and committed to the well-being of the less privileged, I am not able to bid her farewell. 

As Fr Austin puts it: For the Thevara-Perumanur region, Joseph Chettan and Annamma Chedathi were the uncrowned King and Queen.  And she has lived a life of fortitude and forbearance and of spreading joy in spite of her various sufferings and for almost 5 decades she has lived that life without the support of Joseph Chettan, who departed in the prime of his life as a business leader and public figure. 

I was very glad to listen to Fr. Sabu, my colleague at SH College, as her spiritual father in the her final years on the planet, giving glowing tributes to her spiritual status, her keen desire to be with the Lord, and in the Lord's house. I hope the psalmist's prayer is fulfilled in her: 'My heart and soul rejoiced, when I heard them say, let us go to God's house' (Ps. 121). 

May she rest with the Lord in abiding peace and abundant joy!

Note: In the present day, decolonising and recapturing are happening. My cousin Johny, having a relatively well established business, has managed to get back a sizeable chunk of Sayyip's as well as Chackola's property. 

Environment Day 2025 - Celebrating our Fellow Dwellers on the Common Home.

ENVIRONMENT DAY 2025 - BEAT PLASTIC POLLUTION -https://www.facebook.com/share/p/1AyD4UZEzt/

As the human community observes another environment day, I reflect on myself in connection with the planet, our common home. I am fascinated by the thoughts of our Malayalee author Basheer (Vaikom Muhammed Basheer - Bhoomiyute Avakaashikal - Inheritors of the Earth 1977) who could present such lofty thoughts even about 2 decades ahead of the great surge of environmental concern forcing humans to think of other beings occupying the planet with some amount of care and concern - at least from a very anthropocentric concern of how their being there or affected also indicated how the anthropos also were being impacted.  

As school students, we had some remote references to the environmental crisis, when one of the teachers had referred to the Ozone Hole sometime in 1979 or 80.  In those years, Kochi had what used to be referred to as 'smog', and it was attributed to industrial pollution. I witnessed at least 2 instances of massive destruction of fish in the waterbodies linked to Vempanad, thanks to the effluents from Karimugal factories. 

I had developed a kind of fear of various species usually found within homes or around - cockroaches, spiders of all sorts, lizards, rats and toads.  Centipedes, millipedes and scorpions were not all that common in our part of the world. With a kind of rage coupled with fear, I would attack and destroy them, perhaps exempting lizards. Over the years, the fear has not really disappeared, perhaps diminished, but the destruction part is totally done away with. Though I still don't tolerate them in my home or room, I would rather get them removed from my room. Today, two big ants have found access to my office desk, I don't know where from. I got the help of our staff to get them out, rather than just squeeze them to death, which would have been the case a decade or two ago.  But regarding rats and roaches, perhaps I am still intolerant, and if someone could get rid of them for me, I would rather do that. But do we really have the right to do that? 

My school days listing of birds I had noticed or observed in our neighbourhood would be as follows: Common crow (kaakka), Jungle crow (balikaakka), Mynah, crow pheasant (uppan kaakka), tailor bird (adacka kili) and herons or egrets (kokku - in general), Sparrow (angadi kuruvi - we never used any name for that. It later on got into fame, for the wrong reasons, leading to March 20 being observed as Sparrow Day to set the wrong right - Sparrows were usually seen in the market area of Thevara and Ernakulam, not in my neighbourhood as such), Kingfisher (ponman) and Woodpecker (maram kotti) - the last two hardly ever seen or observed, still familiar. It was much later that I had an entry into the fascinating world of avian fraternity and plants, about whom I have become careful, concerned and sensitive. But still I am far away from that stance of 'untouchability' - I still deem human beings to have a greater role in guiding the rest of the species, and even 'keeping' them (caring for and controlling them) - they are doing it; and perhaps, they cannot avoid doing that. 

Since 1992, thanks to the Rio Summit and the media reports on it, I have been made a little more sensitive towards our life on the planet.  My Social Work training and our course on Environment and Disaster Management added to my interest. It was Thomas, my good friend and colleague on the Kalamassery campus as I joined as a faculty member of Rajagiri College in 1997, who initiated me into the world of birds - from where I began to be interested also in other fellow creatures like butterflies, dragon flies and other animals and insects.  Through him, I got the friendship of another great bird enthusiast and scholar, Pakshi Eldho of Thattekaad, who named his daughter Ashy, after the bird Ashy Drongo. He is credited to have spotted the Frogmouth after the days of Salim Ali at Thattekkad. I deeply regret the untimely disappearance of a great Birder and friend from our Common Home. 

With Pope Francis and his landmark encyclical Laudato Si (2015) the term Common Home has gained greater currency in the Catholic Christian circles, though Catholic spirituality as such has not caught up with the stewardship envisaged by the re-reading Francis had done about the creation story and the role of humans in creation (Holy Bible - Genesis 1 & 2). 

Finding a bird and being able to identify it made my travels and treks more interesting and engaging. 

At Sitapur, our college campus welcomes about 800 human beings during the peak hours, and about 25 of us reside on the campus.  After the humans and their usually controlled voices and noises are gone, the campus becomes very active and alive with unhindered movement of birds and squirrels. 

The chatterboxes on the campus are the squirrels and the colonies of the seven sisters, who are generally called babblers. The squirrels out here (five-striped palm squirrel - Funambulus pennantii) appear very small - I think smaller than the ones found in South India. They create a lot of noise - as if a group of birds are chirping; and then the babblers would chirp in with their babble. They appear to complement each other in their movements, appearance and noise. The squirrels have found comfortable nesting points between our window nets and the glass frame. They nest during the winter, nurse the new ones, and then come back next winter. So far, we have left 3 or 4 such installations untouched. 

Then there are the periodical visiting groups of prinias (I guess, rufous fronted or grey breasted) who try to do their best from those very tiny frames. The campus is blessed with the musical calls of bulbuls all through the year - At times, one group dominates, at other times another - usually red-whiskered, and less often red-vented. Magpie robins are there all through the year, though not very many in number. The spring mornings invariably bring out the copper smith among the Barbets. The brown headed Barbets are also regularly there. Bulbuls and Spotted doves move around without any fear; they don't fly away at the sight of the huge two-legged species with various hues of coverings to substitute for their beautiful natural plumage.  Crows - both common and jungle - are there around the year, but are not vocal. At times, Mynahs spring to action and contribute their mite. There are times, even at night Common Hawk Cuckoo reveals its true nature by its manic call, befitting its appellation - brain fever bird. In my mother tongue it is called 'pekkuyil' (meaning, the mad koel). The campus also has the sweet call of the Asian Koel.  Tree pies also abound, but their sore-throated call is rarely heard by me. The peasant crow with its slow gait is often seen, and on a daily basis it announces its presence by its booming and resounding call.  We see parrots and egrets fly across the campus. Bats are there. But fruit bats come in hordes, when the report of the ripening of lychees reach them. Then, no one knows from where, they arrive, and gobble down the abundant fruits of a huge tree within hours and then go back to their hangouts. The history repeated itself this year too; but fortunately, a tree was spared for the next day, by when, it came under a protective net.  The juicy translucent whitish flesh of  red heart-shaped lychee is a treat in summer - it is indeed sugar syrup in a piece of jelly. Give a minute and the juice dries on your fingers to form a fairly thick coat of sugar. 

Another noisy resident is the red-wattled lapwing - many pairs of them who nonchalantly build their nests on the football ground and even on the hot terrace of our residence, and would bluff us by making noise away from what they call their nest.  Thomas, my birding guru suggests that it is asking us: Did you do it? In UP, they call it Titihari, almost re-sounding the noise they make. When the students are gone for summer holidays, we see them converting the campus into their anganwadis, walking and guiding their young ones around. We have also purple sun bird, and spotted munia making their nests on the campus; doing everything possible to appear that there is nothing of that sort there. We also pretend not to have seen their karigiri. But from our kitchen window we have a very good view of its work with the nest, while remaining unseen.

Adding to the din is the piercing whirring of the cicadas - their non-stop chant works as a background, and when other artists take rest, their mantras become deafening, while they remain generally invisible. 

We have spotted owlets who become active at night, and at times with a shrieking call, pounce upon their preys, including the doves, whose nest they have come to occupy. Our other avian residents include flower peckers, tailor birds, Larks (sparrow Larks?), Drongos, Orieols, visitors like Shikra, Pariah Kite, Rock pigeons, various egrets, horn bills, King fisher, parrots etc. 

Dr. Yogesh has managed to induce Magpie Robin to nest at his home, merely by placing a human made nest at his residence in the campus neighbourhood. This time, there are four nestlings this time. 

While we miss a cow on the campus (once upon a time, there used to be many), we have 3 dogs (Dobermen and woman😁), One cat - Rani (who is very friendly with the students, and disappear, when its promoter Dr. A.K. George moves out of the campus), a pair of geese - Monu and Munni, about a dozen rabbits, a few guinea pigs.  While we try to cultivate the great honey gatherers as an educative process, their wilder family has created a huge home in a matter of a couple of days - amazingly withstanding the strong winds, rains and heat. I learn that they have their own air-conditioning mechanism. 

The campus abounds with snakes - vipers, cobras and rat-snakes; a few families of mongoose, at least a few monitor lizards.  Visiting us and marking the same by uprooting our tapiocas and spilling some of its valued quills is the persistent porcupine. Our canine trinity was badly mauled by its hard-hitting tactics.  A Toad has managed to sneak into the residence, and I am afraid it is somewhere inside my small cell. One day, a young one was found in the washbasin. I somehow managed to get that outside my room. The other night, I found three of them in different parts of the ground floor, making me feel uncomfortable. Care for the species diversity is one thing, being happily in one room with them, not always so. 

Our Kochi Sacred Heart Delhi chapter alumni group had some birdy sharing and discussion, which finally ended up with our erudite senior Dr. Antony sharing the following poem, which inspired me to make these jottings: 

Long Ago

I once knew all the birds that came
  And nested in our orchard trees;
For every flower I had a name—
  My friends were woodchucks, toads, and bees;
I knew where thrived in yonder glen
  What plants would soothe a stone-bruised toe—
Oh, I was very learned then;
  But that was very long ago!

I knew the spot upon the hill
  Where checkerberries could be found,
I knew the rushes near the mill
  Where pickerel lay that weighed a pound!
I knew the wood,—the very tree
  Where lived the poaching, saucy crow,
And all the woods and crows knew me—
  But that was very long ago.

And pining for the joys of youth,
  I tread the old familiar spot
Only to learn this solemn truth:
  I have forgotten, am forgot.
Yet here's this youngster at my knee
  Knows all the things I used to know;
To think I once was wise as he—
  But that was very long ago.

I know it's folly to complain
  Of whatsoe'er the Fates decree;
Yet were not wishes all in vain,
  I tell you what my wish should be:
I'd wish to be a boy again,
  Back with the friends I used to know;
For I was, oh! so happy then—
  But that was very long ago!

 

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