A heart-thudding episode!!!

 

THUD!!!!!

The sound was rather unusual  - more so because it was followed by  high pitched squeaking squealing  sounds.  I was in the inner room just getting ready to start the days work. The sound had come from the dining area side which has a high tiled roof.  I often see snakes on the rafters looking for rats. 

An old pic of a snake on the rafters

My guess was that a snake must have fallen down while trying to catch its prey.

I wasn’t wrong – as I peeped out cautiously from the connecting doorway I saw a large motionless lump next to the fridge just near the other door that leads to the hall.  I just couldn’t make out what it was.  The light wasn’t too bright and it was in the shadow of the fridge. I went closer and shone the torch on it.

Prey -tell me what is it!!!!

 It was a snake that had wrapped itself tight against a helpless rat whose squeals were slowly diminishing and fading.  What was heart-stoppingly scary was that Perl was too close to the snake on the other side of it.  She had the most curious expression and looked as if she would nudge the lump with her nose.  

“Perl -NO” I yelled at her and she backed off a bit. Zuki had followed me and was within my reach and I could hold her back. But not Perl.  Thankfully my farm-hand was back from delivering the milk and I called out to him with a “Kooooieeee”

 A Kooiee  is  a standard way the locals call one another -a way of throwing your voice farther than a normal shout would go.  I think I have gotten quite good at it because unlike most time when I walk out onto the porch to ‘Kooiieee’ today I was yelling it from within the house -just hoping he would hear it.  Luckily he did and replied back.

 It wasn’t yet time for his breakfast kooiieee so I guess he realized it was something unusual – I could hear him walk towards the house. “Come carefully and try to catch Perl -There is a snake here”  I said.  He came in thru the main door and managed to catch Perl and pull her back -looking wide eyed at the immobile lump on the floor. 

 “Leave it alone”  he said  “Danger Snake”

  “No - We have to get this out of the house – Think of an idea…” I said.  He had the most doubtful look on his face. 

I looked around – there was a large plastic tub which could cover the whole lump without touching it.  As I picked it up “Aagudilla - It won’t work” he said.   I asked him to move back a bit, I did not want the snake to unleash itself from its prey – it was such a tight bundle – you could not make out the head or tail portion of the snake.  All I could see was that it did not seem to be the usual Rat snake cos it had white markings on it.  If it unleashed in my direction, I had the tub like a shield.

S...l…o…w…l…y……..step closer………… steady your hands…………….and……………. gently place the inverted tub over the lump!!!!

Whheeew-  a sigh of relief!

Perl looking curiously
- Why did you cover it up?  It would have been interesting to watch the snake devour the prey - she seems to say

 – What next now? 

  “Leave it there”  he repeated.

“Look for a sheet”  I said.  I meant a hard sheet that I could slide under the tub and then carry the whole thing out of the house.

“Aagudilla…”

I could not think of a  large enough sheet with a  flat edge.  The lids of the cow feed drums would be large enough but they have  a 2 inch high border around the circumference – impossible to slide it under the ‘thing’  without letting the inmate escape

A couple of large  plastic gunny bags caught my eye. This would be perfect if the whole tub could go into it. I picked one.

“Aagudilla”….again!

Will this sack be large enough?

Hold this edge down tight I instructed pointing towards the edge of the sack opening,  and slowly tried to slide the tub into the open sack.  A couple of failed attempts – the tub wasn’t sliding as expected, the material kept folding up   -  I realized the lad was holding down the edge of the tub tight!!!

Leave that and hold the edge of the sack flat and down I instructed.   He looked doubtful, probably the thought of the ‘thing’ being slid an inch away from his hand wasn’t a comforting thought.  Look I am holding this side down I said.  He gingerly held the other side down and this time I could successfully slide  the tub right into the sack – there was no resistance from the inmate – just a little struggle for me to not let the sack fold up and not raise the edge of the tub too much!

Finally it was all in – the snake, its prey and the tub. I lifted it and bunched up the mouth of the sack really tight and handed it over asking him to  release it a little away from the house. He was back after some time – “Danger Haavu(snake)”  he said. 

Yes it was I guess!

Epilogue 

 

 The same snake was back on the rafters a few days later.  Guess its fall did not bother him much.  This time it was the sound of a dry leaf falling a few feet away from where I was sitting at my table, that alerted me to its presence.  And no the photo is not very clear, so if anyone can still identify the snake, it would be great!

He sat motionless curled around the  rafters for more than an hour. Finally I alerted the lad.

He came back with a long pole - a slight nudge and the  sluggish snake slithered out of sight through the layers of overlapping tiles.  I tried to catch a glimpse of it from outside the house, but it had disappeared  out of sight!

Well, out of sight - out of mind!

Until the next time I hear the sound of a falling leaf!

 

 

Denim Art !

 

A picture that caught my eye…..just so….…. an incredible work of  art  using discarded denim jeans.  Two graceful horses drawing  a carriage, the typical Delft street, the detailing of the windows, the bicycle against the lamp post ……and  a replica of “The girl with the pearl earing” Johannes Vermeer’s famous painting!   Not to miss the W of the Wrangler jeans pocket on the road!  And the cat on top of the stairs! It was an incredible work of art that captivated me. The more you looked at it, the more of the detailing you start noticing!  

I read more about the artist Marrie Bel, saw photos of her fascinating creations and realized that she lives in the Netherlands.    I made up my mind to reach out and check if  I could visit her on my next trip to Amsterdam.

I messaged Marrie on Facebook a fortnight before my trip and was thrilled to see her response.  Although she conducts quite a few workshops, there wasn’t any in the week that I was there. But she offererd to give me a short 2 hour workshop at her home.  Wow!  This was wonderful!

So early one morning in the week that I was in Amsterdam, I took an intercity train to Steenwijk a small town about 150 kms away.  The train journey was lovely and I enjoyed watching the farm lands and the sheep, horses and cows on the rolling grasslands.

Marrie was kind enough to meet me at the station and drive me to her home.  The work of art that had brought me all this way stood right in front of my eyes and I took my time gazing at it!  There were other collages too, each one more beautiful than the other. 

For the workshop, Marrie offered me a choice of either a picture of a cottage or a flower vase on a table.  I selected the vase as it looked less complicated than the cottage. 

There was a neat pile of denim jeans and  cut pieces from which Marrie picked out  a few.  She explained the method of cutting a template out on paper and then cutting it to perfection out of the denim piece.  The selection of the right shade of denim is just as crucial as getting the right cut.  Under her expert guidance I was actually able to start piecing  it together.

A pleasant  two hours just whizzed past and it was time for my return train.  I carried my little canvas and the rest of the pieces to complete the work at home.  

We said our goodbyes with the hope that we meet again! 

To a wonderful artist and new friend, Thank you Marrie Bel!

You can see more of Marrie's work here https://www.facebook.com/Zandoogje

The completed project

Kai Nattie or Machine Nattie ……..?

 

It  is early June and the buzz going around among the few farmers who are still cultivating rice is – “Kai Nattie / Machine Nattie?”

Nattie means Transplant and the question is “Do you plan to get the rice transplanted manually – by hand – Kai Nattie OR  do you plan to hire a Rice Transplant Machine? The locals have mixed opinions on the Machine transplanting – but I for one was keen on doing it this way.  It saves a tremendous amount of time and money. 

The seed sowing method is different for Machine transplanting and that is how the discussions and questions start in June when seed sowing is to be done.  For those of you who have not read my earlier blog posts, the nursery preparation for manual transplanting is linked here.

So  the difference starts with preparing the soil in which the seeds are to be planted.  You have to mix the soil with the compost and then sieve the mixture.  There should be no stones or pebbles in the mixture else the machine gets jammed. 

So I decided to have the rice nursery on the terrace as it would also be safe from the cows/wild boars and peacocks!

A set of 50 plastic trays was purchased.  My farm hand Yogesh brought a few basket loads of fine soil and compost up to the upper room and a large net for sieving the mixture.  I started mixing the damp compost and the soil- it was similar to making pastry dough – you have to get it all crumbly first – no lumps.  The netting did a good job of sieving the mixture and soon the trays were all filled and levelled.  

A prayer in my heart and I started sprinkling the seeds on the trays.

  Rice germinates very easily and there is no need to cover the seeds with another layer of soil.  Hay is laid evenly over the seeds and then a generous sprinkling of water.  The very next day I could see the sprouts and the third day the rice saplings had pushed the hay up by an inch.  

A week later the rice saplings were ready to be exposed to the sun and I removed the hay gently.

  A carpet of green adorned the terrace!

Just a regular watering was all that it needed.  And July first week, the plants were ready for transplanting.   

The rice transplanting machine is a fascinating one!  After the field was ploughed and muddled up with a 2 to 3 inch deep water level, the machine was brought in.  A note about where the machine comes from :

We have a local “Dharmasthal Sangha”  which has most of the modern machines required for farming.  They let out this equipment for a very reasonable hourly rate and the trained operator brings the machine to your farm. He  starts  the timer when he starts the work and charges you for the total time that the machine was used on your land!  Amazing isn’t it?   (You can read more about this here https://skdrdpindia.org/agriculture/chsc/)

We had already rolled up the ‘Mats of Paddy saplings’  out of the trays in which they were planted. 

They rolled mats were then carried out to the paddy farm.  Several  mats are unrolled and placed on an angular tilted frame and operator sets off pushing the  machine.  It trundles along and a set of hooks pulls out clumps of the saplings and plants them into the slush as it moves on. 

It briskly covers the length of the field, is turned  and then brought back to plant the next several lines of saplings.  The whole process of transplantation which would have taken 8 to 10 labourers a whole day, gets done in an hour and a half!

After one year of not planting anything and then one year of a failed crop – due to destruction by the wild boars, I hope this time things are better.

I plan on getting an electric fence to protect the crop from boars.  I hope the Jeevamruth works its magic and pray for a decent harvest. 

The Wooden Stool Seller

6 am – dark overcast skies, lashing rain all the way to Mangalore airport, rain on the tarmac…….hoping that the flights are not delayed! 

 2 pm Bombay – Bright and sunny! Hot dusty and noisy!

 I clean the house, rustle up a meal and catch up with my emails. Before I know I, it is almost 6 pm , I need to go to the market and get some fresh veggies. Just half an hour I promise myself, pick up some cloth bags and lock the house and step out. 

 The heat, the noise, the dust and the bustle that is Bombay, envelops me in a familiar warmth. The banana vendor, the other fruit vendor and the vegetable vendor call out to me “Bhabhi – Sitaphal leke jao” (Do take the Custard apples), “Bhabhi – aaj palak achcha hai –“ (The Spinach is fresh) (Bhabhi is the term for elder sister-in-law and is a respectful way to call out) I signal to them that I’ll pick up the stuff on my way back and continue walking ahead. 

 Suddenly I spot the Wooden Stool seller – or rather I spot the inverted bunch of stools moving at a very brisk pace in the opposite direction. He is walking beyond the line of cabs parked next to the pavement and the fencing prevents me from reaching out to him. I retrace my steps trying to keep him in sight and finally break into a run to find a gap in the fencing where I can step out and intercept him. He seems startled – he was probably done for the day and was walking back to his home. I told him I wanted to buy a couple of stools. He told me the price rather warily and did not seem keen on lowering the pile down. I asked him whether he would walk upto my home to deliver the stools as there was no way that I could carry 2 of them all the way back and up the stairs.

 When he realized that I was serious about buying them, he lowered the whole pile down – what an amazing way he had stacked them all up! I selected 2 of them and agreed to the price that he asked for. He stacked them back together, lifted the whole pile with ease and I led the way home. In the foyer of the building he lowered his stack of stools again and picking the 2 that I had selected walked up the stairs and dropped them off. I paid him and he went off. 

 Why am I writing about this? What moved me to write this? 

 The fact that in today’s age of Amazon home deliveries, Pepper Fry furniture and Ikea furniture, this type of Stool -seller is a vanishing tribe. As far back as I can remember I always have had these wooden stools at home. All my school and college days, it was my simple wooden stool at my study table that saw me thru my study days! When we moved to the farm, we had brought one of the extra-tall wooden stools here and I missed having it in Bombay. It was the perfect height for getting things down from the attic, cleaning the ceiling fan and of course just sitting by the window as well. 

 I was seeing a stool seller after ages and had to get a tall stool again! And a low one to keep the laptop on when you felt like sitting on the floor and working.

 Hand-crafting the stools, hauling them onto their head and then walking around the city the whole day long hoping to sell their wares! 

 That’s how they make a living! 

 Presenting here a Painting by an artist friend Amit Romani 

(Title: Migrant Labour I Medium: Watercolor on acid free paper In private collection ) 

 Do check out more of his paintings on his website https://www.amitromani.com/

Hay from Haveri

 

The number of small land holders who have given up rice cultivation in our area is  increasing  at an alarming pace.    No longer do I have my farm hand or maid asking me –“So and so…. Has a stack of hay to sell – do you want to buy it?”  This would be followed by a description:

·         Which Rice variety (Red rice is a shorter plant and the other white variety has much longer hay),

·        What type of bundle (kaat as it is locally called) – the  roughly tied bundle that has just been  tied for threshing OR a Post threshing tightly tied bundle meant for piling hay in a compact manner

·        How many bundles

·        And finally the rate per bundle – have watched this grow from Rs3.50  all the way to 10 or 12 over the past few years.

So the small land holders would have about  800 to  1000  kaats, meaning a reasonable earning of about 8k to 10k from the sale of the hay.  

Ready for sale - any takers?

We would buy from several farmers and sometimes have interesting  trips to their farm to collect  the hay.

 So like I mentioned, the decline of Rice cultivation has led to a severe shortage of hay in this region.  The stock of hay which I had purchased at the start of the season was close to getting finished with no fresh stock in sight.

A sight rarely seen in the village these days - everyone gathering to help harvest and thresh each others rice fields.  

So this morning I was pleasantly surprised to receive a call from one of the locals –‘A truck with hay has arrived in the village – do you want some hay?’

Sure! I said.

I left my half eaten breakfast aside and went out to move the car out of the drive way.  If they were willing to stack the hay in the attic of the cow shed, it would be lesser distance to cover on each trip. 

I was about to go back to my breakfast when the truck arrived.   It was not a very large one, two men inside the cabin and 2 riding atop the high pile of hay at the back.

I asked to see the size of the kaat and the rate – it  seemed very expensive.  Nothing less than 70 Rs each!  The size was definitely much larger than the local kaats yet the price did seem exorbitant.  I checked with the other people who had purchased it just before they reached here and found that they had paid the same amount but purchased only 50 kaats.

I decided to do the same – 50 kaats would help tide over the immediate need  and maybe I could get some at a reasonable rate from the interior villages.   The men looked disappointed when I said that I found it expensive and I would take only  50. One of them tried to convince me to take 100.  We have come from very far, the cost of  fuel itself is so much, we are not really making much money -  he said.  And they were in a hurry, so they would only pile it up in the driveway and not stack it up in the attic.

Where have you’ll come from? I asked.

Haveri.  Was the answer.

 Haveri!  Hay all the way from Haveri!  That is over 200 kms away – almost a 5 hour journey.  And here were these 4 men with their weather beaten faces, probably having driven through the night to have reached Chitrapur so early in the morning,  going  from farm to farm selling the hay.

I counted the kaats as they piled them  swiftly in the drive way, and when they reached 50, I said “Go ahead, make it hundred” 

“Aivat ondu, Aivat yerdu…….” Briskly the pile grew.

At 100 they all paused and wiped the sweat streaming down their faces and asked for water to drink. 

As they drank the water, one of them perched on top of the pile asked “Will you not take another 50…?” .  I did not have that much cash with me – oh no problem Google pay will do he said.  (I am still amazed by the reach of Cashless transactions!)

“Will you discount it if I do so ?” I asked jokingly.   “Oh no amma……we have to bear so many expenses “ he lamented

I thought to myself – a meal for 4 at an upmarket restaurant in Mumbai  would  probably cost  the same as what I need to spend on the hay.  4 well fed people  in the Airconditioned ambience of a nice restuarant and 4 tired looking men  having purchased the hay from probably several small struggling farmers in distant Haveri, travelling so far to make a living.  4 satiated people who would forget what they had eaten at the meal in a few days. And a huge bovine family who would gratefully munch on this hay at least  till Rice harvest time.

Go Ahead, I’ll take another 50 I said. And was rewarded with a vigorous head nod and an extra kaat at the end of the counting. 

The whole procedure took about 30 minutes and off they went busy getting the directions of the next farm on the phone.

So now I have Hay from Haveri for the cows.  I wonder whether it tastes any different from the hay from Chitrapur.  If my cows tell me I will surely let you all know!

 

Life Express’22

 

A whole calendar  year  just whizzed past and I feel like a solitary being on a dimly lit railway station watching the bogeys of Life Express’22 thunder past.  Did I miss the train…..was I supposed to be on it……well I will try and catch the next one for sure…….but a whole fortnight has already slipped past and I can barely hold on to the handle bar………….

Trying to catch my breath and wedge my foot firmer on the foothold,  let me reflect on the year gone by…..

 

January had me with an armload of pups,

All black and cuddly.

Fat and waddly,

Endless meals of eggnog and ragi porridge

Broth with chicken all creamy and rich

Methi-chicken biscuits for the new mum

Lest she have a problem with lactation for the young ones

Tch tch tch tch tch tch……tch

And they all race behind me out into the yard,

Meals done , poop and pee

A  robust game and they are ready to sleep

Six times a day this routine

Saw me all thru January

Right into feb,,,,when to their new homes they went!

Feb saw the arrival of a new hen

The previous one met a sad end

When I forgot to close the cage door one night

The mongoose seemed to have got her…. Such a sorry plight

March spun me around on work

Was the rest all leisure girrrl?

A trip to Varanasi had me all charged up,

But an  online tender process caught me in a vice like grip.

Oh… I missed all the fun things with the group on this trip.

April brought a kind of a lull,

almost akin to one before a storm

The wave of work never abated,

Keeping at bay despairing thoughts, I accepted.

May brought fresh agony

The memories - last year’s,

Tore thru and brought fresh tears

June had me in the pits

A close friends’ grief over

An estranged daughter

Had me shed more tears with her

July spun me on work trips again

Chennai and Patiala helped me escape the rain

But then it had its vengeance in August

Floods never seen before – a cloud burst

Boundary walls washed away

Collapse of the partially built bridge over the holle

Closed all access roads and had me house bound

A brave attempt to cross the holle with the 4 wheel drive

Had me struggling to get out, what a relief to get back on safe ground!

September brought some respite from the rain

But then 2 new calves saw me extra busy again

Huge cauldrons of gruel, spiced with ginger

Sweetend with jaggery, flavoured with pepper

A load of methi for the new mums too

Oh watch them slurp it up

Hopefully there will be enough milk, for some months to come!

October brought a sad event,

With the passing away of a great soul

My dear father-in-law

Just short of a century by 2

A life well lived,

Discipline, honesty and integrity

We learnt from him and much more!

November had me travelling again,

A solo trip to soothe my soul

The mountains offered a solace

With just their shadows and silence!

All too soon it is December,

The last bogey on Life Express ‘22

A long pending trip to Vellore,

When holiday rush have all websites saying – Tickets? No more!

Booked a cab and drove across

And got a taste of Bangalore traffic woes

Nice road is not so Nice any more!

The last day of the year brought a rush of memories

Barbecues with the family,

Dad’s home, resounding with laughter,

Siblings and cousins all together

Those merry days have passed away,

Learn to enjoy your solitude

Says the vast silent sky

Learn to enjoy the silence

Says the thundering Life Express’22 just gone by.

 

***************************************************************

Dear Readers, Thank you for all your likes and comments......I would really appreciate if  I could know who has posted the comments as most of the time I can only see it as Anonymous

Picking up the pieces….

 

Pick up the pieces

Try to join them again

So what if they don’t fit

…to make what it once was,

Try to join them again

And make something new

A mismatched piece is not the end

It is the whole that counts

Look at it from a distance

And see the threads running through

The seams may jumble and go askew

But don’t turn it around and look

There may still be some beauty

When it all come together

Don’t disregard this messy  Patchwork

After all, this is what we call Life!

 

My sewing machine is jammed. It is almost 4 years old, but one year of not using it and the humidity here probably led to this .

  The pile of unfinished projects is so high that even Kippi does not climb and perch on top.  I start sorting out the mess  - I really need to tidy this up.  But the jammed machine – no amount of cleaning and oiling seems to help.  Luckily I am able to get the phone number of a Sewing Machine Repair guy who can come home and repair it.  And he does!

So my machine is back in action.  The first thing I tackled was the pile of ‘To be Repaired’  stuff.  Below that I found  a quilt top which I had begun a long time back.  It was too small to make anything usable.   It also looked so dull and insipid now.  

Nevertheless, maybe I could just complete it and use it for the dogs.  So I sorted out the couple of messy boxes and pulled out all the similar coloured pieces of fabric.  It  was a ‘Random Piecing’ quilt – so any size of square or rectangular piece works. The rotary cutter was completely rusted, thankfully the scissors were not!   Did not put much effort into ironing the pieces – I just wanted it to be done fast.

But as the quilt ‘grew’ to a reasonable size, I  spread it on the floor  to take a look – and  hey, that did  not look as bad as I thought! 

I mulled over picking the right coloured border and finally settled on a white. 

  Now it looked even better.  I decided the dogs could just have something else, this quilt could turn out into something worth using.  Maybe a floor quilt – so I drove to the fabric shop and got some really thick casement material for the backing. 

I thought you said it was for us.........?

A very simple Maze pattern to quilt the layers together 

And with the help of some ‘Quilting Tutorials’ on Youtube, managed to give it  almost perfectly Mitered Corners.  

and here it is - the half  finished  project finally completed!

 

Trying to begin anew.

 

Just when you think that life couldn’t get any better, it hits you harder than you can ever imagine, leaving you broken, dazed, shattered….

And you have got to carry on….

Everything else is the same, the sun still rises and lights up the tops of the coconut trees in that brilliant morning glow, the calves still bleat out their hummaaee at the sound of the milk vessels, the hornbills still shriek out their cacophony, the flowers still bloom………

My eyes still continue to see all this and my ears still continue to hear all the sounds.  But there is a stillness in my heart -  a silence, a void – no music plays here, no sound evokes a lilting  melody….

But I must move on.. 

Probably the first few weeks are the easiest – one lives in an  unbelieving daze, surrounded by a comforting cushion of friends and relatives.  Then one has to move on and get down to the business of sorting out one’s life - As in getting down to doing the paperwork…. The legalities, the documentations – that’s when it hits you the hardest – NO you cannot live in an alternate reality – you have got to come out and face it.

You have got to learn new skills – of dealing with people the kind of whom you have never dealt with before, of doing the rounds of government offices, which you never cared to find out more before….the list is pretty endless…

But in all this, there is a force that takes you through the dark days, help comes from the least expected places, people reach out with their warmth and care even from miles across, friends and relatives turn up leaving their own busy schedules aside to assist you when you need it the most….

I have been overwhelmed by the messages I received and the love and virtual hugs sent across miles.  And one recurrent note in almost all the messages has been an encouragement to write again.  It has been hard, and but for your love and support dear readers, this blog of mine would have been silenced.

I hope to write again as I have done in the past few years, and when I feel the strength I may put up the to-be-published posts that I had written during happier times.

Gratitude to all who supported and reached out!

Bereaved

 

28th Oct 1959 - 27th May 2021

The path is sunny and bright. 

A more beautiful life couldn’t have been had. 

We walk along, enjoying every breath, every minute.

Suddenly

The ground beneath seems to give way.

Everything seems to be slipping away.

Flung into an endless abyss.

Of darkness

And despair.

Hope and a frantic foothold.

I’m confident I can pull ourselves out.

But no.

The foothold gives way

We are flung further into the depths.

Clutching at straws,

Laboured breaths,

The incessant beeps

Flashing lights of the ICU monitors

Faith and Hope

Darkness and Despair

And then

It is all over.

I am flung out

Alone

The sunlight hurts my eyes

I grope around

Shards of my broken heart all around.

The silence is deafening.

The road ahead is in darkness.

What was and Has been.

What is…What will be….

Bruised and Broken

I need to stand tall

The last words

The confidence and strength

Reposed in me

I need to carry on

A legacy, A dream.

The strength envelops me

Albeit from another Realm.