Rediff Logo Life/Style Banner Ads Find/Feedback/Site Index
HOME | LIFE/STYLE | COLUMNISTS | A GOOD LIFE
January 10, 1997

PERSONALITY
TREND
FASHION
SPECIAL
CHAT JOCKEYS
ARCHIVES

V Gangadhar

Goodbye, Tirunelveli

Dominic Xavier's illustration One of the local dailies mentioned that former Tamil Nadu chief minister and leader of the AIADMK Jayalalitha Jayaram began her political comeback at a mass party rally held in Tirunelveli, otherwise known for its delicious halwa.

I am not a great admirer of Jayalalitha, but I wish her well because she chose Tirunelveli for her comeback venture. For I have fond memories of that place. Tirunelveli, formerly known as Tinnevely, is a district town on the banks of the river, Tambiravarni. My father, who spent more than 20 years of his working life in that district, became deeply attached to it.

Tenkasi, Ambasamudram, Nanguneri, Radhapuram, Palayamkottai, Cheranmahadevi (known in the past as Chermadevi), Kalakkad… these were the places where father was posted during his long career in the civil service. Wherever he was posted, he also went on camps to the interior of the district accompanied by a coterie of peons, assistants and cooks.

We were particularly thrilled when he made preparations to visit Kalakkad, which was a dacoit-infested area. He cleaned and checked his revolver, fired a couple of practice shots and allowed me to touch it gingerly. Fortunately, he never had an opportunity to use the revolver in his official life. After retirement, father sold the revolver at a dirt cheap price to a member of the police force. Since I was only around 16 then, he felt I was too young to inherit such a legacy!

Father used to tell us there was something in the air and water of Tirunelveli, which made the people friendly, decent and law-abiding. Occasionally, there were caste clashes between the militant Thevars and the lower classes. Father, accompanied by police officials, rushed to the trouble spots and quickly controlled the situation. Sometimes, the police had to resort to firing, but as he told me in later years, his superiors always approved of his actions and there were never any enquiries into the firings.

My memory is rather vague on this issue, but there was one particular village, Alangulam, noted for its halwa. Whenever father happened to pass through Alangulam, he would buy packets of the special halwa. It was brown, sticky, full of ghee and had dry fruits sprinkled over it. Oh, how we loved that halwa!

Did Tirunelveli have some special skills in preparing sweets? My limited experience tells me so. There was this mountain temple at Cheranmahadevi which, on festival days, distributed special sakkarai pongal as prasadam. Made from the best quality rice, jaggery and ghee, this sweet was simply out of the world. The jaggery was blackish in colour and so was the colour of the pongal. I had tasted pongal at several places, but the Cheranmahadevi temple prasadam was something unforgettable.

We studied at the well-known Pattamadi High School which was about six or seven miles from Cherammahadevi, where father was posted as deputy collector. Before we bought a car, we travelled to school and back in bullock carts. In fact, there would be 10 or 12 bullock carts ferrying boys and girls to school from the near-by villages. It was wonderful seeing those carts move along the tree-lined roads. The air smelt of newly-harvested paddy.

When father was transferred from Cheranmahadevi, the people of the region were upset. Hundreds of men and women came to the our official bungalow, shedding tears and urging father to do something to have the transfer orders cancelled. They did not realise that transfers were part and parcel of a government officer's life. Yet, in this case, their prayers were answered. The higher-ups cancelled the orders and father continued in the same post for another year or so.

Sometimes, I accompanied father to the official functions. It was clear that the people loved and respected him. He spent long hours listening to their complaints and, in many cases, successfully urged them to try and solve some of their problems on their own, without waiting for the government to step in. Land, property, water and family disputes went on and on, but some of the villagers approached father unofficially and took steps to solve their problems. This was not always the solution, but father was a sympathetic listener and a fair judge.

The collector's bungalow, in those days, was like a huge palace located in an area of solitary splendour. Trees and bushes surrounded the bungalow and it was a favourite haunt of the snakes. Every 15 days or so, a snake charmer would drop in and depart with dozens of snakes, including deadly cobras.

Finally, after 20 years, we had to say goodbye to Thirunelveli. This time, the transfer orders were not cancelled. I still remember the scene at the railway station. Huge crowds surged forward, carrying garlands. Our second class compartment was full of rose and jasmine garlands. Officers and men from the police, revenue and other departments were in tears. Some of them shook father's hands or folded their hands and bowed their heads. The train slowly moved out and Tirunelveli soon became a distant memory.

Since then, I have often thought of the place. Unfortunately, I've had no chance to visit Tirunelveli or Cheranmahadevi. I do not know if Jayalalita ever campaigned in Cheranmahadevi, but the Tirunelvili conference was a good beginning. The puratchi thalaivi (revolutionary leader) could have boosted the morale of her newly found allies in the BJP by having a holy bath in the waters of Tambiravarni and worshipping at the mountain temple. With or without the famed sakkarai pongal as the prasadam!

Illustration: Dominic Xavier

Tell us what you think of this column

V Gangadhar

HOME | NEWS | BUSINESS | CRICKET | MOVIES | CHAT
INFOTECH | TRAVEL | LIFE/STYLE | FREEDOM | FEEDBACK