Monday 12 February 2024

COPING WITH A NORTH INDIAN WINTER 2024 Jan-Feb

North Indian winter is not unfamiliar to me.  I have been exposed to it since 1980.  In the 10-year span of my being in Uttar Pradesh (UP) as a student of intermediate and undergraduate studies, never ever did I miss the daily bath any day, nor did I use hot or warm water for the same any time. 

In those days, we lived on a very minimalist consumption, without ever thinking of being a minimalist. 

We never owned any sweaters in the first three years.  We used what was in the stock, and returned them when we left the study house for the next stage of our training.  But when I arrived at Najibabad (Dt Bijnor) as a college student I purchased a half-sweater and later on, a khadi-woollen jacket (Nehru coat?).  Then I had a shawl donated by Fr Varghese Kanjirakompil, though I never asked for it.  I still am in custody of the same. 

Thereafter (1990) I have never faced a North Indian winter.  In those days, Mercury used to dip to even 2 degree celsius, and it could be very cold. I hardly ever used a shoe, though nobody prevented me from doing so, I just didn't feel that I should use shoes.  In those days, the fingers and toes used to be afflicted by chilblains and the swelling on them would stay all through the winter. Then come summer, there is relief.  Still, winters were enjoyable.  

After 32 years, I am facing another winter.  In between, I had occasions to be exposed to colder weather in the US.  The Mercury hovered around 4 and 5 for several days; but never felt any difficulty as such, except once, when I went out with a lightweight canvas slip-on for a walk, in less than 5006 meters, my feet began to get numb.  But this time, in Sitapur of East UP, I found it tough.  By mid-December, I started to make use of hot water that was available in my room.  I observed that Sun was hiding consecutively for several days, and appearing only for a couple of hours on some days.  Sun, a very threatening presence in the summer, is now a welcome guest.  You are glad to see the sun appearing! And, most of the people out here - young and old - enjoy to sit lazily and 'eat the sun' 😊 (dhoop khana). It was just uncomfortable to sit in the room - whether bedroom or the office room in the college. 

I began to add up layers - 4, 5, 6.  In spite of them, the cold is strong enough to pierce through them. Today with the temperature indicated 11 degree, I am able to work, as I have these layers on me. I did go against the typical conventions here - going for an early morning mass for the Holy Cross sisters who are about 7 kilometers away.  I used the 15-year-old faithful Unicorn.  But I do adequate preparation - 6 layers, a lower part of the rain suit to additionally protect the legs, shoes, hood for ears, helmet and two pairs of gloves for the hands.  I manage well.  Didn't feel greatly handicapped, in spite of the thick fog. 

On some days the fog is so dense that there is a visibility of hardly 10 meters and you have to be extremely careful if you are using a vehicle not to hit a pedestrian or a bicycle rider on the road, or even get yourself into close contact with some bigger vehicles, typically tractors which move slowly, but which would have hardly any indication of being there on the road - neither tail light nor a reflector.  This could also be true with other vehicles, especially trucks, though not all that often. 

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Is it the age or is it the severity of the cold making the difference - I am not sure.  However, when cold water falls on my hands, it hurts.  It is painful! My toes are all swollen and red. Within the shoes, the toes get jammed and numb, and at times, they hurt.  Cold penetrates the body,  it appears, mainly through your ears, at times through your nose, through your fingers and the toes.  Packing these extremities well, appears to reduce the severity of the cold. 

In my younger days, when we had to go for a morning purchase of vegetables and fruits, on a bicycle, I used to feel the nose hurting, almost like being cut, and we used to cover our face up to the nose with a muffler, to prevent this. This aspect appears less now.  However, as I go for a ride or jog, I sense that the warm air exhaled through my nose immediately gets condensed outside the nose, making the nose dip with water drops.  

With great difficulty and strong determination, I try to spend some time in the open - jogging for about 2 kilometres.  Gradually the body gains warmth, the feet and ankles become loose, but after 20 minutes or half an hour, I feel the skin of my hands and shoulder, they are still very cold. 

Our quarters constructed in a shady corner have several rooms that do not let the direct impact of the summer sun.  In winter, they are like ice boxes.  If required, a heater is provided - but I feel uncomfortable seeking the added support of such a device. 

At night, you rely on a wooden cot, with a 6-inch thick sturdy mattress. I use a woollen blanket to cover it.  (These new age woollen blankets, very colourful and affordable are found very commonly on the roadsides.  They are available in varying thicknesses and lightness. It is learnt that these are recycled products from waste plastic.  I am not sure how reliable this information is.  The difficulty lies in getting them cleaned - washed.  It would be a tough task either to get that done by a machine or manually.  The bucket of a washing machine may be found insufficient to hold one such blanket.  So the ways suggested are to get them exposed to hot sun, when he would finally emerge; or get them dry-cleaned.  Being UP, it wouldn't be surprising if the dry cleaning may just mean that they are exposed to the sun and then neatly packed in big plastic covers and given to the customers.) Then I use a cotton sheet over that, another sheet to serve as the first layer of my cover.  Over that a thin woollen blanket, a double layered case for the woollen blanket, which itself serves as a blanket.  And on top of it, a thicker woollen blanket.  For the initial 2 or 3 minutes the bed feels very cold, and then gradually your body makes it warm. However, the space of the mattress you are not using becomes really cold. So the movements in your sleep will let you feel that. 

In my earlier tryst with the North Indian winters, our protection used to be quilt or rijai.  They used to be mattress-like stuff, usually bulky and generally not as shapely as a typical mattress.  However, one quilt would usually take care of all these sheaths which I am currently using to keep me warm in bed, though they are not aesthetically as appealing as the blankets.  The quilts are usually used with an added cover, which could be periodically removed and washed, and can even be offered to someone else, with a fresh quilt cover on it.   In some cases, we just use another cotton sheet, which would keep the quilt away from direct contact with the user, and when it is offered to a new user, a fresh sheet is given.   I also hear that there are modern rijais, which are very light and shapely, but will keep you warm in spite of their lightness.  (When I visited a rural parish in the diocese of .... in USA, I found the women's forum of the parish utilised the church basement for quilt making as a fundraiser for their charitable activities. The quilts were very attractive, shapely and light. I understood that it was a meaningful socialising activity as well for the senior women.)

However, for now, the house has provided a thicker blanket (of the modern-day wool - most likely, plastic), which can be encased in a warm and washable cover, with a ziplock.  It's heavy, but can substitute for the several layers of protection I was trying, some which invariably found their way to the floor during the sleep, making one wake up shivering at night. 

Come February, though I enter the protected 'cave' of my double-layered woollen cover, by 3 or 4 am, it would make me so warm as to sweat profusely - my dress and the cotton sheet I use as my first cover below the woollen blanket is all soaked, but you just step out and you are cold, and the wet sheet becomes colder; you have no choice but to discard or substitute it with another, during the best hours of sleep!!

I always have as a stand-by, my neatly packed sleeping bag from Decathlon, which I have very rarely put to use.  In an emergency, I think that would serve the purpose of giving a warm mattress in the cold season.  I had a very bulky sleeping bag, left over from Bhuj earthquake relief materials.  But that would require your own car/jeep to have it carried around without much burden. 

Winter Beautiful The winter of the Northern Indian plains has its own shades of beauty.  Our winter does not do away totally with the greenery.   Many of the trees, like drooping Asoka, Senna siamea, Peltophorum pterocarpum, Tectonia grandis, Dalbergia latifolia, Mangifera Indica, Litchi chinensis etc. retain their leaves, though there is patjhad (fall) happening, it does not deprive all the trees of their green cover.  But what surprises me is the whole set of flowers that emerge during the winter season - Roses are bright, there are Phlox, Antirrhinum, Petunia, Dianthus, a fabulous range of Chrysanthemum and Dahlias all of which add to the charm of winter.  

Even the fog, the dripping dew in the morning, at rare times, turning into a cover of frost on the ground etc add to the mystique of the North Indian winter.  For people like me born and having spent a greater part of our adult life in Keralam, these are novel experiences - interesting and varied, in spite of the toughness involved. Keralam remains God's own land sans all these varieties - no severe summer, hardly any winter.  Your clothing is almost the same all through the year.  It is easier to put up even with the minimum of resources - a minimalist living, with no great concern for cooling or heating of the built-up environment. And it is refreshingly, and for a typical North Indian, breathtakingly, green. 

In winter times, the North Indian public places and public transport (all the more) are found to have a carpet of peanut peels.  It is hardly ever cleaned, the floor, the seats all bear the mark of it.  Almost everyone eats peanuts - generally roasted on coals, and every nukkad would have a thelewala vending peanuts.  Usually, it is a local product, and it thus serves as a livelihood for many and a source of protine for the common people. I am not sure of the local habit, however, at our house, we usually have them after the dinner, accompanied by a piece of jaggery as a tastemaker.  While for me, bananas are still welcome in winter, for the UP people, they are unwelcome in the winter. 

For the common people, the other typical means of keeping themselves warm is a hot tea - that spicy, sweet, strong, milky tea - may be just about 50 ml. For people like me, it 250 ml is the minimum quantity for a tea.  I gladly note that alcohol is hardly ever a means for the common people to keep themselves warm, though it is much more freely accessible than in our God-forsaken God's own country! 

As for eating in general, people say, in winter you tend to feel more hungry, and you eat more - more than a month with winter, I have not really felt so, in spite of my increased fitness module. I still feel only as hungry as I used to be - managing very well with a maximum of 2 meals, often with one. 

As I ride through the hazy streets for the morning mass, I can see at several places, the labourers or vendors who have to be on their tasks early in the morning, trying to warm themselves up with some fire.  They tend to use anything they can get their hands on, including tyres, and while the fires warm them up, they indeed add to the pollution burden of the atmosphere. 

My coworkers here tell me that this year we are having a more severe and more prolonged winter spell for this part of UP. As indicated in the beginning, I too feel it is rather bitterly cold here.  But still it's ok.  It's manageable. 

I dared to ride from Lucknow to Sitapur on February 8th morning - in spite of all my protection, I felt the cold biting, and seeping into my bones. After about 20 kilometers, it was still dark, I decided to stop.  My hands protected with 2 pairs of gloves were hurting.  I warmed myself up with a hot cup of tea, and made my hands warm over the conventional oven of coal. It sustained me another 30 kilometres, and I had to stop and warm myself and the hands up.  Though sun was already out and bright, it was not sufficient to keep the extremities warm. Then it was the last leg, and somehow I managed to be back on the campus by 7.30 and comforted myself with 2 large mugs of hot masala tea, and then a hot water bath. 

February 14 Basant at the Doorstep - It should have been a very tough day around in my former campus of SH, Thevara - with all sorts of possibilities and hype related to 'valentine's day' - Perhaps, a trend set in in a matter of last ten or twelve years. But out here in Sitapur, so far, no indication of such a day! However, in the air is spring. 14th is a holiday on account of Basant Panchami.  I can sense the spring on the doorsteps.  The air is still cool - 18 to 20 degrees at noon.  However, it is no longer biting. New shoots are emerging. Our vines are pruned. There are a host of small flowers in the grass - forgotten little beauties.  There is a carpet of yellow flowering puliyarila, white spotted green carpet of kayunyam, beautiful violet, pink, yellow, golden and blue flowers of the varying grass species. 

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Though formally the winter is said to be ending only with Holi in March, from now on, it is hoped to be mild. 

February 21 The morning showed mercury at 18 degrees, for the first time, Sarriyan Maluhi AQI was shown at 139. Not on account of El Nino or La Nina as The Indian Express carried an article today.  But on account of a slight drizzle that has washed down the particulate matters and brought it drastically down by more than 100 points.  First time since I arrived in July, I was observing AQI of this area at this level. 

March 25 is Holi.  Holika is burnt and all the evil of the cold months is said to be gotten over, with warmth spreading around.  This time, exactly after Holi, the day has begun to be warm. And mosquitoes have come back with a vengeance. The very timid drain flies which come to our washrooms in small numbers in the winter, and remain almost numb, are increasing in numbers, and have become more energetic.  They tend to fly into the bed room also.  Though so far, they appear only a visual nuisance. But mosquitoes persist, they swarn around incessantly, managed to enter the rooms in spite of the nets, hum  their music into our ears.  It is gradually warming up!! 

But all the trees, shrubs and herbs are into celebrating their life in inflorescence, with bees and flies showing forth a very vibrant life. 

Water is pleasantly cool. Not yet warm or hot.  You can now shed your dependence on the geyser.

Life at Thevara 1975 to 2020 - A Wetland Perspective

February 2, 2024 - World Wetlands Day

Wetlands day, another day among the umpteen days in the year dedicated to some aspect or other of human interaction with the common home they share with millions of others!  I note that this was one of the first transnational initiatives showing concern for the common home - especially, its wetlands, with a gathering of interested parties at the Iranian city of Ramasar on the shores of the Caspian sea. The declaration on February 2nd has henceforth been remembered as Ramasar convention.  The observation of wetlands day began much later in 1997. 

Wetlands in Sitapur, UP I regretted that our college assembly missed recalling this day! In Sitapur, we live far away from wetlands, though one region of the district is in fact, wetlands. And coincidentally, my search revealed the Indian Express news item on Sitapur being recognized for its efforts to conserve 600 odd hectares of the wetland of the district synergising the resources available through government schemes of MGNREGS, Indira Awas Yojana and Total Sanitation Campaign (TSC) leading to rural employment and revival of birding including that of Saras Crane! 

The wetlands of Sitapur are formed in its North and Eastern region bordering Kheri and Bahraich and Barabanki in the Southeast.  The area comes under Lucknow division in the Gomti-Ghaghra Doab, and the low-lying lands are referred to as ganjar consisting of Kewani-Chauka and Chauka-Ghaghra-Doab.   They lie between and around two rather powerful rivers Sharada and Ghaghara, both of which become part of the great Ganga later. I find an article about its rich floral diversity.  I hope to visit the region sometime or other. 

Thevara-Perumanur of Kochi - A Wetland Perspective

Thevara was one end of the world in those days - the world ended with Thevara ferry - from where you could get a ferry boat to Kumbalam - further to Arookutty or Alappuzha. The western side was the Venduruthy puzha, on the east, Konthuruthy puzha both of which formed one body at the Southern tip of Thevara. On the North the Thevara todu linked these two and separated Thevara from Perumanur, though no one felt that on account of the bridge. The todu went further east and got connected with Maradu kaayal, and from there further to the boat channel to Chitrapuzha, Kakkanad. 

Though this region was a Ramasar site, apparently no one from the region had any clue regarding the significance of the convention or that of the region and its peculiarities. We are part of one of the biggest Ramasar sites - which had almost 360 square kilometre spread of waterbody in the middle of 20th century, with ten rivers draining into it.  It has shrunk to around 250 square kilometres when this discussion is taking place.  The wetland area is calculated to be around 1500 sq. kilometre.

Though it never occurred to any of us nor were we instructed in this during our school days from 1970 to 1980, all the while, we had been wetlanders, living in Perumanur, less than a 500 metres from the backwaters of Vempanad on the west and the Thevara canal just about 150 metres from my home, with the vestiges of a canal from Thevara todu flowing into the adjoining ancestral property. 

Thevara canal was considered a dirty area, with Thevara market being its cynosure.  A row of meat vending shops on its southern shore, behind which there was the relatively large fish market and all the waste of fish and bones of the various meats being dumped into the canal without any prick of conscience. As we walk over the bridge we could see the bottom of the canal strewn with bones, which were extracted after a while and sold, most likely, to bonemeal factories. The boys who were from the families of the fish vendors (in those days termed, chantappiller), apparently not very regular with schools, were found to be exhibiting their special talents by taking a daring dive from the hand railings of the bridge into the waters, which were not considered very clean generally, all the same not any that murky.  They used to come up from the dip with ease.  Now I feel such talent should have been spotted and promoted for sports like diving - but those days, these were seen only as some errant behaviour, but tolerated as nobody was affected. 

Two passenger boats - Ambika and Elias ferrying between Ernakulam and Arookutty - owned by our neihgbour and family friend, Manikath Chackochettan (his son James was my constant companion and sort of guide in all sorts of extracurricular activities, chief among them being bicycle ride and boat trips by his boat), were docked close to the bridge in front of their home.  The water used to be deep enough for a boat to pass through and be docked there. 

A few of the locals who dwelt on the shore, attempted fishing - whether for sport or for food, I was not sure. Once I did observe that one such chettan had hooked a koorie - in those times, it was referred to as teetta koorie (shitty catfish) or more sophisticatedly, manja koorie (Horabagrus brachysoma).  I was not very impressed or attracted and took it for a low-level practice.  In the market, I had hardly ever come across yellow catfish being sold.  Later on, in the late 90s, I began to hear about the disappearnace of Yellow catfish from our region and even from the lower Periyar near Eloor, and learnt that it was a very delicious fish. 

Sometimes, during the rains, the canal would have water just about its full - perhaps a foot or less below the road level.  But I never saw it overflowing.  At times, the water did become very shallow in the low tide, but not as it happens now. 

From the lakeview grounds of Sacred Heart College, the backwaters, which we used to refer to as kayal in Malayalam and lake in English, the waters spread beyond the reach of eyes in the direction of Arookutty in the South.  There was hardly any vegetation in the waters anywhere, except the occasional African algae (Afrikan paayal) or water hyacinth (pola paayal).  Sure, the shores were all covered with coconut palms leaning towards the waters. 

Late Rev. Fr Peter Chirayath, our then parish priest (though later, he quit the robes to lead a very engaging catholic family life, May he rest in the Lord!), took us altar boys (alttaara baalanmaar) for a picnic on a country boat, which was being rowed by the boatman with a flat oar, unlike the typical bamboo pole employed for the bigger boats.  We had organised boiled tapioca etc. I don't remember who did all that.  About 8 or 10 of us had this boat ride from Sacred Heart College grounds to Chattamma, perhaps about 7 to 10 kilometres away, and returned. 

Interestingly, in all likelihood, none of us knew swimming, in spite of having been borne and brought up around the water bodies. Nobody thought this was a serious thing to be learnt. And stepping into the water was not thought to be hygienic even in those times.  But while I was an 8th grader, on Gandhi Jayanti day, our student council on their own organised a sevana dinam (by then, the Sevana Varam - Service Week, which was introduced a few years ago had been withdrawn),  We cleaned up the drain (kana) of Chakkalackal road, which happened to be my place as well.  The drain broadened after a while towards the east, reminiscent of its bygone glory as a broad tod (canal).  We reached almost near Kadavanthra and there we took a dip in the canal, the water was clean there, and the bottom sandy! Though we knew that some of the toilets were on the canal, for once, we didn't bother.  But that was the only time, I had stepped into the waters of the beloved Vempanad for a bath. 

In those days, I observed, on two occasions, fish - dead and half-dead - in large numbers floating in the canal, as I went for the daily morning market for fish and vegetables (meat being a definitive Sunday item of purchase!).  I don't know if I had a desire to pick up a few huge ones - perhaps, we knew it was poisonous.  Anyhow, I didn't attempt that. We came to know about some leakage from the plants in Ambalamugal!  In those days, as it is today, nobody bothered much about it, though the site was shocking.  Kochi, even in those days was proud to have the experience of 'smog' thanks to its pollution from such factories.  Still, there wasn't much discussion in the classrooms.  Teachers were happily unaware of such happenings.  The only discussion we have had on some related theme was on 'ozone hole'. 

One stretch of the Thevara todu was occupied by the fisher community.  In certain times of tide, based on the moon's position, they would have their fixed nets (kettu vala - poles could be seen across the waters where such nets were tied to.  I am not sure if this practice is still there.) in the backwaters harvested to sell the fresh fish to the few who would come to purchase them.  This was a rare find, and the fresh fish, freshly cooked and eaten for supper, was really delicious.  Whereas the morning sorties usually provided only catch from the sea, which was already iced and having lost its freshness.  It was only by the time I was a ninth grader that I came to know about this and had the privilege to go and purchase such a catch. The main items included mullan, kolan, poolan, njandu, chemmeen, kozhuva, manang etc. I could never imagine these ordinary fish could taste this good when they were fresh. Ichayan would exhibit his skills at extracting the flesh of mullan without having to be bothered by the bones of the super flat fish.  

I had just one occasion to go to the nearby island of Kundannoor-Maradu (today nobody thinks of Maradu as an island).  I had to walk to Kadavanthra, from where we crossed a shallow canal on foot at Chilavannoor, then after walking further we crossed over to Maradu by a country boat.  It was with our kapiar and fashion leader (who had specially designed bell-bottom pants, even in those days, when his contemporaries who were much better off or in the college, were usually using only mundu).  We were looking for fire display for the feast. Having accomplished that Varkey stops over at a toddy shop, and orders toddy.  Not really inclined to having that with the impression from our regular purchase for fermenting flour for appam, I was reluctant when he asked, 'ninakku venoda'. But then I thought I would try.  It was a huge glass, and when I tasted it, oh boy, it was heavenly! So very sweet! And accompanied by kadala curry aptly cooked dry! Such nature's blessings have been totally taken away from the Malayalee's menu.  I really doubt whether anywhere in the state we would be able to get toddy of such purity and quality!

In those times, Konthuruthy was a typical small island.  I recall vaguely how precariously we walked over the step-bridge across the fast flowing waters to go to the 'far-away' Konthuruthy (less than 1500 meters) to participate in the perunnal. On our return, it was dark, and I remember the reflection of lamps and lights in the waters all around. For some reason or other (safety, most likely), the bridge was demolished sometime in the late 70s, and a road was constructed with just 3 big pipes to let the water flow across! That was the death knell for Konthuruthy puzha. Before long there arose dozens of settlements towards the south of the displaced bridge which gradually grew in numbers and layers, and ate up the river.  The once roaring river was tamed into a small nullah just about 3 metres wide  in many parts.  Thanks to Kanadan Tomy,  a carpenter by trade, who got some inspiration from some source who began a litigation campaign even to the threat of his own life, fought the case up to the Green Tribunal, and got a verdict in favour of evicting all unauthorised settlement and clearing the river!  I did play some supportive role by listening to his arguments and helping him to go about his fight for the river. 

There was much of the corrupt party politics, as usual, creating all hindrances from protecting the river.  Good politics should have raised resources to relocate the really deserving (who had no other means, whereas, several of them had good houses elsewhere, and utilised this as an added income) in a dignified manner and revive the majestic river thus clearing the waters, increasing the fish yield and reducing the mosquito menace of the locality. 

I would still advocate, rebuilding the bridge and making Konthuruthy with all its modernity the island kissed by the flowing waters of the Vempanad all around. While I have only respect for Rev. Fr Thomas Mulavarickal who can be called the father of modern Konthuruthy, it was a total lack of understanding of the environmental issues typical of those times, that led his goodwill to fill all the wetland area with the clayey sand from the upcoming shipyard to an urban settlement, but by which Konthuruthy parish is said to have grown financially sound! If it were today, the same could have been done with proper spatial planning, drainage system open spaces and ensuring storage of stormwater and draining of the same into the lake. 

On the northern side of the canal networks, the kayal and canal around Chilavannoor were greatly displaced by what began as a bund over which people could walk somewhere in the mid-80s - It was just about 1 kilometre long from Chilavannoor reaching almost near the newly built by-pass road on the erstwhile NH47.  I have walked over it to reach Maradu once when I came home for a few days of seminary vacation.  Now it is a broad road, with some futile efforts at beautification, having displaced a large area of the waterbody but providing a connectivity between Maradu and Thevara-Perumanur region.  A large section on the North Eastern shore of the waterbody of Chilavannoor was eaten up by the DLF builders, and easily got off the hook by the Supreme Court dispensation of a paltry penalty of about 1 crore rupees. On  this stretch too, the waterbody was heckled by bridging it with a landfill, permitting the water to flow underneath through a set of pipes laid across. 

Thevara After 3 Decades - 2010

After having left my home town of Thevara-Perumanur in 1980, I had no occasion to stay in the locality for almost 3 decades barring a month-long stay in 1983 and a day or two once in 2 years.  When I was appointed principal of Sacred Heart College in 2010, it was after 30 years that I was back in the region for a longer stay.  

I could observe that there was a drastic change in the water body. 

The Thevara thodu was literally black - a Kalindi with kalakutam expelled by humans into it on a daily basis. There was a big mangrove tree at the base of Thevara bridge. The vast tract of almost 50 metres from the boundary wall of P& T quarters almost up to the border of the college ground and stretching till Thevara ferry, with intermittent openings was a mangrove forest, with the area almost converted into land and much less of water between the tree trunks. Waste had accumulated among the trunks, lying low. 

After the newly constructed Parambithara bridge (somewhere in the 80s - usually called UP bridge, after the UP State Bridge Corporationion - UPSBC, completed in record time using modern technology), towards the south of the island there emerged a thick growth of mangroves. Konthuruthy puzha behind the eastern side of the college campus has become literally a land piece, with huge mangrove trees spread all around, choking the waters, and in the space between the college property and the mangroves there were big and small shrubs, including a young coconut palm begun freshly to bear fruits. 

The vast stretch between Thevara and Venduruthy was almost with no water for almost a 100 metre length during the low tides. All sorts of solid waste from the market, abattoirs, restaurants found their destination in the waters.  

I took a long stick and inserted into the slushy water. On pulling it out, there was a piece of discarded plastic carrybag/wrapper with it.  I tried again, the result was same. Tried again with the same result. So it was evident that the water bed was now littered all over with plastic.  In my initial enthusiasm of being in Thevara, once I did clear some amount of slush from the waters close to the retaining wall at the edge of the lakeview grounds. We let the mud remain on the edge of the ground, and in a short while, it became dry and sandy.  We spread it along the western side of the ground, and removed the large amount of plastic embedded in that.  Twice rice paddy was cultivated there.  Then grass formed a thick carpet and it became an ideal spot for additional parking.  I could not attempt clearning the the slush again, as it made no sense with the vast expanse of it remaining untouched. 

As we progressed with the construction of the new campus on the eastern side on what used to be Konthuruthy puzha, I observed that it was all land about 15 meters into the river where there was a thick growth of Mangroves. A canal from the eastern campus linked to the river let water flow into the campus, and even a country boat could be used if the flow was steady.   Earlier this used to be a regular channel through which coconut and rice from our Kakkanad farm (what has now become Rajagiri Engineering and Management schools) were brought to the monastery. We cleared up the canal, and initiated cleaning up the mud from the survey pillar established by the revenue department.  There were bushes, a young coconut tree with its first fruits... we cleared all that, with our very proactive Bursar Rev Dr Sebastian in the lead, and water started flowing through the stretch perhaps after decades.  Then BJP leadership sprang into action and in the cleared area they established flags and accused the college for trying to grab land from the river. Opposite was the case - we redeemed the land belonging to the river and made the water flow.  Perhaps, that threatened the

settlers just behind the mangroves, who are against the demolition drive to clear the waters.  In spite of my appeals to the local councillor and the Mayor, no further step was taken to ensure that the area is cleared, kept clean.  BJP unit agreed to settle the issue for Rs. 5 lakhs to be donated to them!  It was for the first time that I came across an instance in which a political party asked for money (bribe) to settle a non-issue which they had made into an issue. Short term political interests always seem to prevail over the interests of the people and the planet. 

COVID - A Temporary Blessing for the Backwaters

When COVID was at its peak, the waters were at their best quality -  the discharge from the abattoirs, tea shops and restaurants, even the regular markets, the service stations had been almost nil, or very limited.   Since my arrival in Thevara in 2010, I had never seen water so clear and full of life! That was a sure sign that a turnaround is still possible.  The waters can be rejuvenated, the forests can be restored, and the rivers can be revived. 

Towards Corrective Action

I still feel with an enlightened and empowered local body much could be done to improve the status of the precious heritage of Kochi - its waters! 

1. Ensuring that no further landfill happens where water bodies of Kochi are concerned. 

2. A time-bound action plan to clean the canals, and make the tidal waters flow in and out of them. Any illegal construction, not letting the waters flow and passage of small boats through them impossible, should be cleared. 

3. Regular dredging of silt from selected spots of the backwaters. 

4. Involving housing groups and the fisher community of Thevara to ensure that the water bodies adjacent to their areas are kept clean and clear. 

5. Removal of all vegetation (specifically, mangroves) from the backwaters and their restoration to the pre-1980 status.  This is if it is found to be making the water bodies into land, and if they were preventing the flow of water, passage of boats, and if they were facilitating further accumulation of silt and solid waste. 

6. A research cell to continuously gather data on the status of backwaters in a systematic manner - water quality, fish and other life forms (biodiversity) etc. Sacred Heart college, its departments of Environment, Aqua-culture, Economics, Commerce, Sociology, Communication, Botany, Zoology and Chemistry can play meaningful, collaborative and inter-disciplinary roles towards restoring this segment of the Vempanad backwaters. 

7. All toilet discharge to the canals to be stopped in a time-bound manner. 

8. Effective use of the human resources - especially of MGNREGS for the purpose. 

I would suggest a local monitoring cell of volunteers - young and old, men and women - who are trained and empowered to identify and initiate corrective actions on these lines. Their properly documented corrective action can even be incentivised through some token monetary benefits.  Ideally, a Higher Education Institution or a Civil Society Organisation committed to such causes, should be authorised to coordinate and implement these measures.  While some of the measures could be initiated by them at their own level, the rest could be forwarded to the local body, which would take necessary measures that they are implemented on a priority basis. 


 <https://www.blogger.com/u/1/blog/post/edit/2873740186656244366/5022889101211428128> Feb. 6, 2024.  Indian Express

<chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://ia803403.us.archive.org/2/items/biostor-153200/biostor-153200.pdf>  A Contribution to the Wetland Flora of Sitapur District, Uttar Pradesh. J. K. Maheshwari & R.P.S. Tomar