Post by Administrator-BR on Jan 6, 2012 16:02:03 GMT -5
MY HOME-TOWN ARIYALAI ~~~~~~~~ My beloved hometown, village of my birth in Tamil Eelam standing as a strong stalwart sentinel, at the portals of the peninsula Jaffna, which crowns the North of the tiny emerald isle that is war-ravaged Sri Lanka. Ah! I remember episodes like yesterday, as ever-fragrant memories of my peaceful, leisure filled life in the nineteen thirties and forties, vivid as ever flood forth in my mind. That first decade of my carefree childhood cradled in my widowed granny Sinnammah’s cozy, thatched three-piece mud house, nestling in the railway-line lane, on Ananthan Vadali Road. I recollect how a spark from the coal mail train lit a blaze, to burn down a house within minutes! Like in many families, Appah worked in Colombo, but our harmonious home was filled with love contentment and care. As was the custom then, we were well nurtured by Ammah’s extended family with four doting uncles, two aunts, helpful relatives and neighbours. Everyone knew everybody – that was the old Ariyalai! We lived well, not missing any of the modern amenities of electricity, pipe-borne water, fridge, fan, radio, TV, etc. People drew water from their wells with the well-sweep, had their own paddy fields, cows, goats and poultry too. Everybody walked! There were very few bicycles on the roads, but not a single girl rode the bicycle those days! The rickshaws, bullock carts, Austin hiring cars and the infrequent buses were soon outnumbered by truckloads of soldiers, mostly African, during The Second World War 1939 -1945. The war Ushered in the occasional airplanes to our empty skies. I remember the day when the Japanese bombed Colombo only because Ammah and all the other wives were weeping, frightened for the lives of their husbands in Colombo. The war brought blackouts, rations of food and fuel, and we included wheat flour in our staple rice only diet. We were wary of the war, but did not suffer any major calamities, though a few families cut L shaped bunkers in their gardens, where we children played house and hide and seek, along with our ‘kili-thattu’ and mango seed hopscotch. That rope swing from the mango tree for every child. Heaps of white sand from Kilakkariyalai in every home. The lovely scent of fresh cut mounds of golden hay drawn home in carts, by trotting bullocks with tinkling bells from the paddy fields, for us to tumble in and play, before being heaped for the year as fodder for cattle. The smell of the first rainfall, on the thirsty ground. The fast running flood waters we gaped at, in December. My pets, pup Top and the kid-goat always trailing me. The fun we had with playmates, all the eggs, milk and curd that we enjoyed made fresh in every home . . . Kuttimama Thurairajah’s daily ritual at dusk, lighting kerosene lamps while the lamplighter lit the tall oil lamp posts on the roads. How all of us daily sat in a circle chatting after Dinner to split the stiff fronds of fresh-cut palmyrah ‘olas’ from black palms straight and tall, so relished by our cows and goats, while listening to lilting hit-melodies on the gramophone. Trips in the hiring car to watch Films I recollect like Prahaladha & Harichandra were rare treats! I was lucky, that my skills were stimulated early at age three when I joined my teacher uncle Gunaratnam to learn Tamil at Sri Parwathy Vithyasalai near our biggest temple of Vara Sithy Vinayagar. This Pillaiyar kovil and this old school, along with all the other Ariyalai temples and schools laid the strong foundation for spirituality, piety and the love of our Tamil language among our youth. It is heartening that this passion now consumes not only me but burns bright in the hearts of every single old boy and girl living scattered over the globe, prompting them to send funds to rebuild pinnacles and chariots for temples. I recall almost every boy and girl classmate and all the kind faces of the teachers, with the exception of one Headmaster who believed that sparing the rod would definitely spoil the child! We had the usual Vani vilas, visits by school inspectors, Health care officials and the occasional silent film show too. Appah arranged Kamalakka ( Kamalasani Canagasingam – nee Clerical Muthiah) to teach the violin to Chandra and me to nurture the love of Classical Carnatic music in us. After grade five, I joined grade three at Chundikuli to learn in English from 1941. I first rode in a rickshaw, barefoot Suppan racing with the other rickshaws! Later I walked the miles with the others till a school bus started plying. We shifted to our new up-stair 86 Kandy Rd. house in 1946 and walked to College, past the Kachcheri morning, noon and evening. I continued my vocal and violin music lessons under Mr & Mrs.Ananthanayagam and took part in all the college Tamil plays. Come August and as it continues now, then too it was festival time in all the temples in the North! Along with Nallur, our Pillaiyar, Natchimar, Vairavar, Uppukulam, Illanthaikulam, Katpahavinayagar and all other Ariyalai temples staggered their festivals so that every devotee could worship at all the temples. In addition, Appah, home on leave like every father, took us out on regular temple pilgrimages. These trips were like picnics for every family with the breakfast chatty of kali, pittu and mangoes! I recollect our annual, eager, early morning bullock cart ride to bathe and worship at faraway Madduvil temple, with the big drums, sweet pongal rice, white brinjal curry and fried mothahams! Oh! What a treat it was, to cross the choppy sea to adore beloved deity Nagapooshani Amman on the day of her chariot festival., spend the night with our Nainathevu island friends, and compare how lucky we were, to live so comfortably in the mainland! How Ammah hurried us to dress up quickly in our long skirts, gold jewellery, a definite must then as people would rather borrow a chain than go with a bare neck! We wore silver/gold ‘ottiyanam’ for the waist which was in fashion, and flowers in the hair, to walk to temple with the swarming crowds, as soon as we heard the special rhythmic beat of the temple drum, announcing loud and clear that Sandeswarar had started his rounds, before the poojah ritual. We met the whole village to worship together at these temple festivals, which were also like carnivals to meet people, unwind, chat, shop and enjoy the ‘kathaprasangams’and nathaswarams’ and the occasional crowd drawing ‘chinna-melam’ female dancers from India. There were very few Christian families in Ariyalai then, but Catholics from all over Jaffna flocked to the St.Anthony’s church festival at Kilakkariyalai. A Catholic church was built on A.V.Rd. in the forties and we used to gaze with wonder at the ceremonies! That church is not there now though Hindus join in church worship too. Very few women worked those days, and many had the same daily routine to shop for vegetables, fish and essentials in the market-place and shops, while the men went to buy fish from Columbuthurai, Pasaiyoor or Chinnakadai. Some gingelly oil and vegetable vendors plus fishmongers walked door to door with the baskets on their head in their specified areas. Thaipongal, New Year and Deepavali were joyfully celebrated in every home with new clothes and special sweet ‘palakarams’. I recall the popular New Year Sports Meets and Fancy Dress Parades at both Kalaimagal and Pungankulam Library Community Centre grounds with nostalgia as extra special celebrations, followed by the Kalai Vila in both open air theatres. We sat on the sand and watched programs spellbound which continued till morning. I yet remember the superb portrayal of actors I.S.Shanmuganathan and Master Iyathurai in saree in lead roles in the play Manonmaniyam in the forties. Even then as now, Ariyalai folks excelled in every field. Our people adorned every sphere of life in schools and offices. Education, academics, medicine, athletics, cricket, football, Civil & Govt. Service, business, law, fine-arts, dance and song and even the parliament, with the first ever Tamil Post and Telecommunication Minister, C. Sittampalam. Our older folks are here in the west in large numbers giving and getting help, but we all have only one wish, that we must return to Tamil-Eelam to die in Ariyalai and be cremated at Sithuppathi crematorium! It is great that Ariyalai young men and women continue to create history in all the nooks and corners of the wide world! Oh come, one and all! Let us each pledge to sponsor a needy child in Eelam! Let us combine our might and strength to uplift the standard of life of our brethren, now languishing in the coils of the catastrophe of continuous warfare, that encircles our beloved motherland, Tamil Eelam. ___________ -by: Lalitha Brodie- |