As you drive down to this obscure but well-known village, you see a board that announces: “Welcome to East Village Peruvemba”.
Peruvemba… Kerala in its pristine state. Untouched; like a virgin. Kukgramam, as we Malayalees call it.
You lie down on the square under the Banyan tree which has entwined itself with a Neem tree. As the cool breeze fans your cheek, you watch a huge pond with lilies and lotuses blooming to your left. Across the pond, there is a temple dedicated to Lord Shiva. In front of you, across the lush green paddy fields, is the Lord Ganapathy temple.
Behind you, is the Ootukulungkara Bhagavathy temple. And this temple shares its compound wall with my dad’s wariam. Our ancestral home. To this day, all the temple chores except for the puja is done by the warriers of this wariam. Making paayasam for prasad, making garlands for the goddess, and lighting the oil lamps, etc.
The goddess is Sita. Yes, Lord Rama’s wife! This swayambhu idol is unique in nature. It sprung from under the Ashoka tree that shelters it till date. The goddess is still sitting with her legs spread straight in front of her… waiting for her beloved husband as she was waiting in Lanka.
As folklore and legends go, she loves chandattam, a black, acidic liquid made after boiling timber or teakwood. Truth is nobody knows what the recipe for this liquid is till date. It is supplied by a family which has passed on the secret of this liquid from one generation to the next.
The diluted form of chandattam is applied as paste to one’s forehead and remains there for three or four days. And you get a slight burning sensation there. I was amazed that it does nothing to the ashoka tree and the idol as litres of this liquid is poured onto the idol daily.
The Bhagavathy becomes stronger with each extra litre of chandattam poured on her. The idol still does not have a roof over her head. Only the tree shelters her.
Before I got married, I bowed to the goddess and asked for her forgiveness, peace, and understanding. I asked her to bless my wife and my family for a lifetime of togetherness.
As time goes by, I want to settle down in Peruvemba. Take care of the temple and do all the work there… milking the cow included.
As you leave the remote village, the same signboard says: “Thank you. Visit again.” We will.
6 comments:
Hi,
Your post brought back memories of my ancestral home too, in Kilimanoor. There are so many ancient ancestral homes like yours and mine in Kerala that are untouched and unspoilt by the ravages of time. Places that are shrouded by legendary stories and protected by various Gods and Goddesses. And many from our present generation are caught between that primordial beauty and our present day city lives. Ironically, we live most part of our lives longing to return to that blessed silence one day.....
back to your roots?
thats gud news.
Dear Gayathri,
What you said is so true. So very true.
I am longing for that life of a recluse writer in a remote village of Kerala. Maybe just like Ruskin Bond.
I want to wake up early in the morning, start my morning prayers and puja after a cold dip in the temple pond... walk drenched to the temple and do the works...
sit back in the afternoon when the temple is closed and write...
evening again light the lamps. look after the cattle and a field or two... grow vegetables; few flowers and fruits...
go to the market only to buy salt.
sleep early and peacefully at night... wow!
hi Revathi,
My parents have brought me up in such a way that i will never forget my roots.
only now, i realize the value of what they valued... and lost.
i want to regain all that glory.
dear abhi,
congratulations. I am happy for you. So, are u based in Madras now?
I should be hopefully coming down in December.
btw, I dont have ur current email id.
cheers
ranga
Did marriage kill your natural instinct to write? No posts off late?
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