Chapter 3. Life in mogra chawl

I was consciously aware of the blaring note of a popular song. ‘If I were a bird, I would fly to you my love, but it is raining heavily day and night.’ The song begins on a high note and descends gradually to a low note wherein the helpless beloved blames the rain which has dampened her aspirations. The song thrilled me and filled me with joy. The tune reverberated in the atmosphere. I hopped to skip out of the house. At once I knew the Vanita Steels Corporation had set up their stage for Navratri (celestial festival of nine nights). There were night performances. Children were made to sit on the ground. Music and dance seeped into my mind. The classic song of Colourful Rings infused the festive mood into the environment. The theme is of a naughty lover who influences the mind of his beloved by his looks and gestures. The beloved hollers the footsteps of her lover. She teases him by hiding. Popping out all of a sudden in front of her lover, she startles him by asking him to move out of the way. The lover understands the playful gimmick when he notices her smile. The people around in the chawl were aroused. They planned to watch the programme which the Vanita Steels arranged for them. There were professional dancers, actors, musicians, magicians who performed on stage. Garba, (a group dance performed during Navratri festival in honour of the Hindu goddess) dramas and variety programme went on for nine nights. Since the ground was nearby, I watched the programme and returned home when I felt sleepy. Festivities chimed with songs. One of the songs meant it was time to enjoy sweet mango cakes. We have come here to bring happiness. The sound of the damru beats shall vitalize the mind into a rhythm of cosmic trance. The songs were enthralling. I had a desire to dance. I lifted my leg to tap my feet. I wanted to hear the metallic sonorous sound of my silver anklets which reflected into a smile on my face. These songs infiltrated into my psyche and sowed a pleasant feeling which I have even today. Navratri would end and with it the fun.
Vanita Steels Corporation was in Vanavli. Many migrants from the North and the South got jobs. My father knew persons in Vanita Steels. He used to put in a word and get them jobs. Those bhaiyyas like Prem Singh and Veer Singh owed their allegiance to dad. They were sincere honest and hardworking. They were very close friends of dad. But I had few friends in the chawl. Alifiya khan was my closest friend. Her father was Salim, a man of high caste who got married to a local woman. He was ostracized from his family. The new nuclear family lived in the last house of the chawl. I frequented her house. Alifiya’s mother bore many children. Every second year she had a child in the cradle. Children were small in size. Alifiya used to take care of the kids and help her mother with kitchen work. Whenever I used to go to her house, asking her to play with me, she would be busy with household work. Alifiya observed her Roza. She used to tell me how she fasted during her Roza. She had to spit out her saliva many times. She would tell me in Hindi ‘Rani, kal hamara Id hai. Mein nayi salwar kameez pehanaygi aur nayi chappal bhi.’ I was fascinated by the glittering colourful dress, her fancy new slippers and mehendi, henna tattoos on palms, hands and legs. I knew that Id was a happy occasion. Diwali was another festival which made me happy. Mom lighted oil lamps and made sweets inspite of her busy schedule. I lighted sparklers. I was not fond of bursting big crackers because of the sound. I was happy bursting small ones. My parents purchased pattu pavadai i.e. a garment stitched out of Kanjeevaram silk. Mom also bought gold jhumkas ( pendant earrings) for me.
The trend of working woman had yet to start in our family. Getting jobs in the railways was not a difficult affair. High School education was enough. My dad bought application forms from the railways. He wanted my mother to take up a job. My mother had a strict established traditional view that men are bread winners and wives should be housekeepers. Mom refused but her two younger sisters applied for railway jobs as clerks. They got jobs and took to the track of working women. Dad had great respect for learned women. He would talk about a relative of his who educated herself to become a lawyer. She worked for the district court and was so efficient that people admired her work which earned great respect from people. While citing her example, he would also talk about the lady who helped him to pass his secondary grade (matriculation) exam.
There was a Malayali family in front of our house. The man was Sashikumar Nair. He had two daughters, Sangeetha and Vinita. They would have oil massage regularly during their weekends and would sit outside in front of the house. They would bask in the sun. I would watch them. It was a peaceful family of four. Sashikumar Nair smiled and talked to us. His wife Devaki had a relaxed way of doing her housework. She remained at home and tuted her children. She had the habit of comparing her daughter’s marks with that of mine. We communicated to them in Hindi, a language which they knew.
Grandmother selected a girl for Sudesh uncle. Sudu mama was educated, fair and good looking. He was the eldest son of the family, very obedient and responsible. Sudu uncle had great regard for his mother. His mother selected a not so educated village girl from a remote village in the South. The name of the village was Sethuramapuram. Although she was dark, she was pretty. My grandmother accrued a big amount of dowry from the bride’s parents because Sudu mama drew a handsome salary. I accompanied my parents, brothers and sisters to attend the marriage function in the South. We got down at Ukoor, took a bus and then a bullock cart to reach the bride’s place. There were rows of mud houses with thatched roofs. Many traditional families lived there. It was a three day marriage. While returning, lots of eateries were packed in plantain leaves. Sweet smelling ladoos and athirasams(sweet dish made out of rice and jaggery) were also packed. We took a train to Sagarpur and reached home.
During one of my trips to Sompur, I had an experience of playing alone on a mound of sand. I found white stones in it. I took two white stones and struck them together. After rubbing it, I was delighted to find sparks of fire coming out from it. I remember having watched a masked dance in Meenanagar in an open ground which was opposite to Government quarters. Masked dances were performed during Dassera (the tenth day after navaratri which is celebrated to mark victory of good over evil). Artists would put up masks of various characters. The characters would be from the great Hindu epics, the Ramayana and the Mahabharata. These plays were enacted in Hindi. I never understood them but was delighted to see the masked faces. People, staying in Government quarters, were from different parts of India. Just adjacent to my grandma’s house there was a North Indian family. A dupatta (A long piece of cloth worn around the head, neck and shoulders by women from South Asia) flew from their place into our compound. My aunt, who took care of me, asked me to lift it. I lifted it thinking that she would return it to the neighbour. When I came near her, she put her hand on my mouth and asked me to keep quiet. She took me inside the house and cautioned me not to utter a word about it. She kept the dupatta for herself. Somehow I felt it was wrong. It was theft. I thought why I was taught to pilfer things. I was expected to obey her because she was considered as an elder. I was very much confused about credibility in elders. Once I had a chance to visit a photo studio, Meenanagar, Sompur. I went with my aunt Hema. I didn’t smile easily. The photographer had to use a toy which whistled when pressed. I couldn’t control my laughter. I erupted into loud peals of laughter. I felt it was too much. So I pressed my lips to control myself. We took a photograph. I stood between my aunts and my good pet brother who sat on the top seat.
In Mogra chawl, the Kale family lived on the right hand side in the last house in our row. The last house on the left hand side in our row was Mr. Khan’s house. Mr. Kale was fair, lanky and brown eyed. His wife gave birth to a baby boy. It was a premature baby. The doctor discharged his wife and child when it was found that the mother and child were doing well. A heart rending wail was heard after the midnight hours. A sudden misfortune descended on the Kale family. The nascent babe died during midnight. People gathered around to see the dead body. Mr. Kale was all panic. He couldn’t believe that his child is dead. He was not ready to bury it. No one was ready to help the man because they believed death of the child was inauspicious. My father had his foot forward. He asked the man whether he could help him with it. My father took the body to a burial ground and buried it in the darkness of the night. Mom did not like it. Mom asked dad to have a bath and afterwards railed at him. “You have your kids alive. Why should you bury a kid which is not yours? There were others in the chawl who could have done it. Why did you do it?”
In the next row of the Mogra chawl on the right hand side there was a Rao family. The man was Raghavendra Rao. He had a son called Ashish who was my classmate. I made frequent visits to the family. I spoke in the language which they knew. The family used to praise me because they considered me good at studies. Comparison ensued between me and Ashish. My mind was disturbed but couldn’t understand that my ego was being bloated and I considered myself as a person who had an edge over others. Surprisingly, I liked Ashish being belittled and scoffed at many times. There was another family in our Mogra chawl, the Sanajirao family. The Sanajirao family had traditional business of incense sticks in Simaluru. They had their office in Sagarpur. Business was managed by his two sons. There was another south Indian family. Ramamani was Gopal Nair’s wife. They had a brilliant son called Lokesh. A new family had moved opposite to Alifiya Khan’s house. It was a south Indian family from Ukoor. The wife of Mrs. Ramanathan practised carnatic music and also taught small children. She managed her tuition classes and looked after her small girl child. Although the families were of middle class, there was sanctity, truth and a feeling of true friendship. People lived together as Indians. There was a sense of competitiveness where studies were concerned. On other hand, there were shanties which had their own culture. Both existed side by side.
Mom had conceived again. She gave birth to another babe. It was a baby boy. My grandmother from Sompur was present at Vanavli. She was happy. A note of happiness spread in the chawl. Elders in particular were very happy. A boy child was born, an asset to the family. It was an investment for the future which stood on the credit side. I was asked to distribute sugar to all people in the chawl. I told each of them, “Mummy ko ladka hua hai.” My father ultimately conceded to get himself sterilized.
Dad’s parents stayed in Shimpli. After many years, I paid a visit to Shimpli During my vacation, i. Prashant Baba hall was being inaugurated. Grandfather was an ardent disciple of Prashant Baba. Rangesh, my grandfather took me along with him. A canopy or a pandal was put up. Logs of wood supported the pandal. I sat down near one of the erected logs. I saw big black ants making a line and climbing up the log of wood. I played with the big black ants. One of the ants bit me. It stuck on to my finger. I cried loudly. Grandfather came and removed the ant which was on my finger. I stopped crying but it started raining all of a sudden. Many people ran to shelter themselves under the canopy. But I was left out with my grandfather. There was no raincoat or umbrella. I resumed crying. My shrill cry rented the air. I was not ready to stop crying till one elderly uncle covered me with his raincoat. He offered me a toffee. That night I fell sick. My grandfather bought medicines to treat my cold. My kind ajji took great care of me and I recovered. After my recovery, she saw to it that I ate well. “Rani, you must finish all the chapattis and vegetable I’ve given you.” She dressed me up for outings in the evenings. She used to comb my hair. She would put camphor in coconut oil and apply it on my hair.
During Diwali, my ajji made sweets. One such sweet was the national cake. South Indian mamis from Astha nagar would meet in my grandma’s house to make sweets. My paternal uncle used to make paper lanterns for Diwali and had it hung in front of the house. Hari was also there. He would play with Arul who lived in the neighbourhood. New dresses would be stitched for me and Hari for Diwali. My ajji used to give me hair bath. Water would get into my nose. My ajji would say, “Rani, no need to get frightened. Nothing bad will happen. You must become strong. You must get used to sun, wind and rain.” She made it compulsory for my brother and me to recite a shloka i.e. a prayer in the form of verse. ‘Gajananam bhoothaganathi sevitham, kapitha jambhuphala… etc.’ It was recited once in the morning and once in the evening. Bimala Ajji was social. She had Maharashtrian friends with whom she spoke in Marathi. Once she took me to her friend’s house and introduced me to them in Marathi. Her friend offered a typical Maharashtrian faral (snacks) i.e. ladoo, chivda and chakli. My grandmother used to say that Shimpli soil suited me and not Sagarpur. She noticed that I improved my health when I stayed in Shimpli.
Those were the times when black and white films were in vogue. I had an opportunity to watch the first film in Hindi belonging to the Mughal period in India. It idealized conjugal love. The story is of a prince in love with a beautiful woman. Her touch is akin to flowers, cool and delicate. Although the heroine is bewitched by the handsome prince, she urges him not to touch her. Mughal drapery especially of the heroine was fascinating. Songs were impressive. I didn’t understand much of the dialogues in the film. Dance and songs elated me. My mother sang with a loud sonorous vibrant voice whereas I could not open my mouth to sing or rather I was at a low confidence level since I stuttered.
My paternal uncle Seshan tried for a job in Vanita Steels. My father had put in a word for him. My uncle did not find the job suitable for him. Dad felt hurt when uncle left the job without informing him. After being quiet for many days, dad spoke to my mother. He said, ‘My brother could have informed me before leaving!’ Being convent educated, his brothers could speak English more fluently than what he could speak. Mother reacted by saying that they were uncourteous because of superiority complex. Mother understood that dad was gripped by inferiority complex. He did not have the drive and the push to move forward in life. He was comfortable with people of his kind. Seshan uncle got a job in Mactos Ltd. When dad was a child he was sent to a boarding school for education. His anger was violent and uncontrollable. He couldn’t be snubbed except by chastisement. Turning the tables upside down, emptying food from vessels, pouring liquids on the floor, hurting someone or banging his head against the wall were the ways in which he expressed his anger. He was sent to hostel in the south and hence he grew differently. He had hostel habits. He started smoking during his school days and later got addicted to it. Smoking was prohibited in school and in the premises of Vikas mission. However there were boys from rich homes who sneaked some cigarettes and smoked. Dad was one of them. He received less affection from parents. His brothers treated him differently. He lived as an ingredient of his family who did not amalgamate.
Some of the houses in the chawls had small gardens in front of their houses. My house didn’t have one. There were small gutters running close and parallel to the house. A cement concrete was laid in the space in front of the house. I wanted to sit and play whenever I wanted. I started planting some plants in front of the house but the doors of 21, Siddesh society opened the door of another phase of my life. For some time, life ran into a traumatic tour of experiences. The new house had already been a live-in for another aunt of mine who resided in Chitragaon. She was requested to look after Karnesh but the sister had smelt something bad about the motives of Janaki and her husband. She quickly shifted her abode back to Chitragaon where she had a house in the Government colony. Her husband worked for Brebett and Co. She had three kids, two sons and one daughter. They were Vivek, Rajendra and Akhila. We entered the house of Siddesh society. The link to the previous house had not been lost. The old house was locked. No one lived there. It was as though the past had vacated itself to allow the present to take on.
( Footnote: Gajananam boothaganathi….. Verse praise of Lord Ganesh who wards off all evil. All the spirits are in service of the lord.)